Hey, everyone. I'm new to the POTC category, but I've always loved Ragetti and Pintel! There's a bunch of good stories about them now, so I decided to throw mine in!
I always thought the name Ragetti sounded Italian, so I'm making the Ragetti's half-italian. Also, I needed a first name for Ragetti because we couldn't have his sister going around calling him by his last name, so I picked Adriano. He sorta looks like Adriano. Yes? No?
Okay! Enough about names!
I was only thirteen years old and living near a port town in England when my mother, Carmella, died. I sat by her side as I watched her take her last breath, both my hands curled around her pale, cold one. My seventeen-year-old brother, Adriano, sat on her other side doing the same. She said her last words in a mix of English and Italian, looking lovingly at the both of us as her strength lessened more and more.
"Adriano…Concetta…mio bambini. Look after each other. I want you to…vivere. Prosper. Do not take the path I took. Liberare…Live free."
Finally, she closed her eyes and became still and silent, settling farther into her pillows. I let her cold hand fall gently to the blanket and Adriano kissed her cheek and looked at me to do the same. Trembling, I pressed my lips against my mother's temple and drew back quickly. She was cold. I sat back and let out a choked sob, bringing my fingers up to my lips.
"Mama," I cried out weakly. "Mama!" She couldn't hear me. She didn't wake up. Adriano crossed to where I was sitting and gathered me up in his arms and let me cry into his chest. He whispered soothingly into my ear as he stroked my hair and before I knew it I had drifted off to sleep.
I was woken abruptly when the door to the room I slept in was thrown open unceremoniously. I was in my own bedroom. Adriano must have carried me. I sat up to see Adriano and a strange man standing in the doorway. The man was dressed in tattered clothing and looked like he had been neglecting personal hygiene. There was a bald patch on the top of his head, and his hair was long and greasy. Along with his unpleasant appearance came an unpleasant aroma, like filth mixed with salt and sea. It was like he had a permanent scowl on his face and he looked at me with yellowed eyes, which made me cower.
"Chetta," said Adriano slowly. He gestured timidly to the man beside him. "This is our Uncle. 'E says…'e's gonna take care of us."
"Aye," said the man. "But there'll be none o' that 'Uncle' business. Call me Pintel." And so life with Pintel began. He was a very strange man. He took to calling my brother "Ragetti," and me "Kid." He severely lacked in manners and taste. After every meal he would belch loudly and laugh at us when we cringed. He would send Adriano off to do errands around the house while he just sat drinking. He had learned on the first night where our liquor cabinet was and proceeded to empty it as soon as he could. He always passed out in the armchair every night. It seemed like I was invisible to him except when he needed me to cook. It didn't matter to me. He smelled and had horrid manners. On the contrary, Adriano was quite fascinated with him. While listening to one of their conversations, I learned that Pintel was a sailor. He talked of going to sail to the Caribbean where there was sand and sun and crystal clear water.
"'Ave you ever been there?" asked Adriano.
"Naw," said Pintel. "But there's a ship headin' down there in a few weeks."
"Then what's goin' ter 'appen to me an' Chetta?" asked Adriano, sounding a bit thwarted.
"Well, you'll be goin' with, o' course," said Pintel. "'Cept I dunno if the kid can go."
"What d'you mean?"
"Women are bad luck on ships," Pintel said. "The whole lot of them."
"Bad luck? B-But she's not even a full-sized one!" Adriano protested.
"Hmmm…you're right, that might not count," said Pintel. "We'll 'ave ter think on it." He took a swig from his liquor bottle and then hollered into the kitchen. "Oy, kid! Hurry up with supper!"
We only stayed long enough to bury our mother. Her grave was marked by a tombstone that read "Carmella Alise Pintel-Ragetti. Loving wife and mother." It was paid for by selling nearly everything our family owned. Pintel sold all of my dresses and made me dress in Adriano's old trousers and a shirt that hung off my small frame. His grimy hands pulled at my hair as he gathered it all at the nape of my neck and sloppily tied a ribbon. I looked at myself in the mirror.
"I look like a bloke!" I said, horrified.
"Aye," said Pintel, circling me and admiring his handiwork. He looked from me to Adriano and snorted. "You look like brothers." I was confused as was Adriano, but Pintel explained that I could not be revealed as female where we were headed to next.
"Wuss goin' on?" asked Adriano.
"You know dat ship goin' to the Caribbean? We're goin' ter be on it, and little Chet here," Pintel cuffed me on the shoulder. "is goin' ter be the cabin boy."
"Cabin boy? But Chetta's a girl, she can't be--" Pintel cut across my brother's words harshly.
"Chet's a boy as far as anyone else can tell! No one's goin' ta be checkin' under our trousers, aren't they?"
"Oh," was all Adriano had to say. I fretted over myself in the mirror during this whole exchange. Pintel grabbed me and smeared his grimy hands all over my face. I squealed and tried to pull away, but he kept on.
"Oy! You're gettin' me filthy!" I shrieked.
"Too clean fer a boy," he growled. That night he led us away from the only home that we had known with only the clothes on our backs and a few small trinkets that we could carry on our person.
Pintel brought us into town and went to a tavern to sign us up into crewing a ship. He had bought himself a bottle of rum and eventually got so drunk that he ended up starting a bar brawl. He was losing badly so Adriano jumped in to help. I had never been this scared in my life as I watched my brother and Pintel fighting off drunks. Since they had no swords, they were using practically everything in reach to fight. The brawl ended when Adriano took an empty rum bottle and smashed it over a man's head. Everyone froze. Some men yelled in rage and started to run at him with their swords, but a gang of rough-looking men stepped in front of Adriano and stopped them from charging at him by pointing pistols at them. I ran to Adriano and threw my arms about him, thankful he was safe. He put an arm around me protectively and drew me away from the armed ruffians who had their backs to us. Pintel came to stand behind us, looking warily at the armed men.
"'Ey, wot's the big idea?" demanded one of the men, glaring at the ones with pistols.
"Gents, lower your weapons." The men slowly lowered their guns and swords and a man with a scraggly beard and feathered hat stepped in between them.
"Bloody hell, that's Hector Barbossa!" one of the swordsmen said, and he turned abruptly on his heel and left. His companions did the same, yelling "Barbossa!" and running in the opposite direction. The man called Barbossa turned towards his men and let out a hearty laugh, and several other people joined in. Even Pintel let out a few snorts behind us. Barbossa's laughter stopped abruptly and he turned to us, as did his men. I felt Adriano tense at my side and Pintel pushed us apart to face Barbossa. I suddenly became aware that several gazes were upon us.
"That was quite a fight you two put up," said Barbossa. "What'd be your names?" His gaze flickered over me and I unconsciously grabbed Pintel's sleeve. He snatched his arm away and glared at me.
"I'm Pintel and these two're my nephews. The tall one's Ragetti an' the whelp is Chet."
"How would you gents be interested in joining me crew? Our voyage is to Tortuga in the Caribbean," said Barbossa.
"Aye, we'd be honored, sir!" said Pintel, putting on a higher pitch than normal. Barbossa nodded and looked over each of us one more time.
"We set sail at dawn."
All words in Italian were translated at the Free Translation website.
