Disclaimer:Pirates belongs to the mouse.
A Change in the Wind
Joshamee Gibbs' early life was a simple enough story to tell. He'd taken to the sea the same as his father, his grandfather, and if the family's version of history was true, his great-grandmother, Mary. He swabbed, knotted, hauled and spied St. Elmo's blue fire atop the masts aboard many ships, and when he found himself unexpectedly a navy man he decided to stay and see if he might gain some glory.
He married Anne who enjoyed the tales he spun. She was capable of terrifying straying thoughts out of his head no matter the number of miles between them and could hold her own during the months he was away. He worked harder when he learned she was with child.
And drank harder when he learned of their death— three months too late.
The years passed, the ships changed, the captains changed, but he didn't take notice until one despicable enough to loathe was questioned at the end of a pirate's sword.
"How do you treat your men?"
"Well enough, they fought for me," growled the captain. The defeated Navy crew raised their heads and stiffened stances, their silent, affronted, stares seeping with repulsion. Joshamee spoke, "We never fought for you."
They locked the offending former captain up in darkness. He could not distinguish day from night with his eyes, but with his ears. At night, his former crew surrounded his cell hissing, whispering, retelling, every cruelty he had caused and so he grew to dread the sunsets he could not see. The nightly whispers ceased only when they reached a pirate port called Tortuga and allowed him to stumble down the gangplank into the more merciful noises of the crowd.
It was there the crew divided up their loot and said adieu. Some swore an oath to the Pirate Code and the pirate captain, others searched for ships bound home, and some headed towards the taverns unsure as to where else they could turn.
Joshamee Gibbs was among the latter. He chose one with a sign of a woman smiling and happy with a bouquet of flowers on her wedding day--The Faithful Bride.
***
Joshamee stared into the murky bottom of his drink fascinated by how similar it was to the countless others he had consumed. A voice nearby caught his ear, the voice itself was unfamiliar, but the unmistakable tone of a storyteller enjoying the effect his words caused was not. Joshamee turned around. He couldn't tell if it was the drink or the strange spell words could cast when used by a practiced voice, but the storyteller's oddly dreadlocked and trinket ornamented hair seemed inconsequential and unimportant.
"…and it is said if one were to brave such waters and reach that certain splash of foam, salt, and liquid they shall learn the most favorable course to pursue on their jour--"
"Alright, what you'll have, love?"
The storyteller looked up at the young woman and frowned. "I don't believe I--"
"I don't care wot you believe. Ye've been squawking for hours and haven't ordered anything since the first one."
"I'm fine."
The woman smiled. "Yes you are, dear, but looks ain't no excuse fer not buying anything." She called over her shoulder, "Red!"
An oafish, large, red-headed man appeared, grabbed the storyteller, swung him over his shoulder and headed towards the door. Gibbs shouted from the counter over the protests of the listeners and the storyteller's struggle. "I'll pay for his next one!"
Red looked to the woman. She shrugged, "I don't care who's doing the paying."
The woman collected her coins and the large man dropped the storyteller. The storyteller picked himself up, plopped his leather tri-corned hat on, slipped into a seat next to Gibbs and extended a hand.
"Captain Jack Sparrow." Sparrow grinned recognizing a flicker of recognition in Gibbs' widening eyes.
"Joshamee Gibbs."
"Mr. Gibbs," Sparrow hoisted his new drink, nodded, and took a sip. "How may I repay my rescuer?"
"I wanted to hear the end."
Sparrow leaned in closer, candlelight glinting off a coin in his hair, "How would you like to be a part of it?"
"You're certain it's true?"
"That's the trick, isn't it? Discovering what will give you the run around and what you should run after. I am."
***
The sky was blank, moonless, and eerily starless. Gibbs could hear the water slapping the hull below them, but the feeble light of the lantern he held only illuminated inches of air and space. The crew was huddled close together on deck trying to pool their sources of light together.
" 'Most favorable course'! All I see is us lost." growled a lanky, brown-haired crewman. Sparrow shushed him and held up a hand. "It's not time yet."
"When will it be—" A shrill hiss strained the air, the lanterns trembled in their hands, the feeble light formed into harsh streaks radiating further and further out until every eye was blinded by white. Gibbs raised a hand to shield his eyes, but a soft touch stopped him. He raised his head.
"Joshamee?" It was Anne.
"Yes?" She reached her hand towards his face and—
"You slapped me…"said Gibbs stunned, rubbing his cheek. Anne folded her arms and glowered.
"You used to listen to me. Why'd you stop listening to me?"
"B-but- you're dead."
" All the more reason to listen. I've been trying to tell you for years—"
"Tell me what?"
Anne sighed, "Don't interrupt, love. Stop staring into your cups. Stop moping about. Talk to people. And why'd you stop telling stories?"
" I couldn't."
Anne smiled, "You'd think about me, wouldn't you? Next time, think of the good things." Anne paused, "I think you should stick with Jack-even if it's just for a while."
"Jack Sparrow?"
"Yes. Watch him. He doesn't have anyone. Not really, all those smiles…they're hiding sadness, but he does love this life. You need to remember how. He'll give you stories to tell. And I'll want to hear them when we see each other next. You won't forget?"
Gibbs shook his head, "Never."
Anne kissed his blinked and she was gone and the moon, stars and light were returned to their proper place in the air and sky.