Queenie Monologue

been her normal self. Mrs. McMasters was a tall, attractive woman, smart and self-assured. People just naturally listened to her, respected her, and followed her lead. But Mrs. McMasters and ships, not to mention oceans, did not get along. So, right from the beginning, if she wasn’t bolting for the bathroom to throw up, she was lying in bed, miserable. She’d simply told the kids to be good and go play. To Jack, Rabbit, and Queenie, “Go play” meant roaming the Upshur, a place unlike anywhere they’d ever been. Its only color seemed to be gray, and the air was filled with the sounds of clanking metal, loud bells, and blasting horns sounding for no apparent reason. The minute their mother let them leave their quarters, they knew their mission: Explore every inch of the ship. They ran along an upper deck, weaving their
We have places to go,” Queenie yelled. He’d slowed down to study the soldiers. Shake it off, man. He snapped his head from side to side to clear it. You can worry about that later. For now, just enjoy the ship—as much as you can with two girls. The three of them actually made a great team, perhaps because they were so different. Queenie and Rabbit were opposites. Queenie always looked well put together. She stood up straight and sat up straight. Her dark brown hair looked right out of a beauty salon. Her clothes repelled wrinkles and dirt. Her socks never slouched. She always said the right-and-proper thing. Well, almost always. Queenie was in training to be a lady. On the other hand, Rabbit and her socks were always slouched. Looking correct was not Rabbit’s priority. Her blond hair never stayed combed, which was why her mom put it in a ponytail most of the time. A ponytail that sprouted golden tufts within half an hour. Rabbit was the kind of kid who would walk out the front door in spanking clean clothes, and within ten minutes they’d be a wreck—wrinkled, dirty, and, all too often, growing holes. As for