The Bradfords Score Big

We were 48 days out of Plymouth bound for the New World.  The ship was slow and unwieldy, thrown off course by every wave and puff of wind.

"What I wouldn't give for a fresh biscuit," Mother said.  "These are like the stones carried for ballast."

"Now Mother," Father said, "let's not spread dissent by talking like that."

As you can tell, the journey was wearing on us all.

"Constance, sit over here so that I can brush your hair," Mother directed me.

This daily ritual seemed to make things better for her.  A small reminder of normalcy.

Our living quarters were primitive.  Just a curtain separating one family from the next.  Forget privacy.  No nighttime secrets.

That lack of secrets gave my friends and I plenty to talk about.  Not that a group of teen girls were ever at a loss for something to talk about.

"Did you hear the Bradfords last night?" Mary asked.

"Hear them?  I could feel the boat rocking," answered Priscilla.

That brought a round of chuckles.

"How about scoring the performances?" I suggested.

"Yeah," Priscilla responded.  "From 1 for boring, to 5 for maximum excitement."

"You mean like got my panties damp excitement?" joked Mary.

That got a big laugh.

The next day, we got together to do the scoring.

"One for the Rigsdales," suggested Priscilla.

"Agreed," said Mary.  "I thought he was asleep before it was over."

You could tell from our laughter that this was going to be fun.

"I'd actually give Constance's Mother and Father a three," said Mary.

"If only she'd stop giggling," I said.  "It's so embarrassing."

"And then there are the Bradfords," said Priscilla.

"Yeah," said Mary, "I'd give them a 15."

Priscilla and I had a puzzled look, then broke down laughing as we figured it out.