Hey everyone, I'm BZRKR GRL. This is just a little drabble on Jack Sparrow, a Cabin Boy, and the lack of rum. I hope you guys enjoy it.
R&R, and Enjoy!
Where Has All The Rum Gone?
I'm woken by the sound of orders being shouted up and down the ship. My head smacks against the cabin ceiling as I sit up. Grabbing my head in pain, I jump from my hammock to the hull.
Sailors bolt pass me in a blur. Desperate to know what's going on, I grab a passing sailor.
"What in Davy Jones's Locker is going on?" I ask sharply. "Are we under attack?"
The small, bald headed dwarf shakes his head with vigor. "Nay," he says. "Tis worse."
With a yank he dislodges his arm from my grip, then runs to an open porthole and jumps out. A splash echoes up from the sea, confirming his departure.
Shouts ring down the cabin stairs as more sailors fling themselves overboard, fleeing something I can't comprehend.
The first mate slams into me as I rise to the deck, shouting something I don't understand.
"What, Sir?" I ask.
"The rum," he shouts. "Where's the bloody rum?"
I blink, taken aback. "Why, it should be in the captain's quarters, sir," I say slowly.
"Nay," says the sailor, a grave look on his bearded face. "The captain drank it all."
"All of it? But that was over fifty gallons of rum!"
"Aye, and if we don't find more soon, we're in deep sh-"
"First Mate!" A thunderous, guttural voice sounds violently though the woodwork, making my bones quake in fear.
"And that'd be the captain," the first mate says shakily.
A tall, lean man marches from the captain's cabin, an empty bottle in his outstretched hand.
The first mate turns ever so slowly to his superior, a pained look on his face.
"Aye, Captain?"
"Where, may I ask, has the rum gone?" The captain upends the bottle at the last word as if to prove a point, the point being that the rum is gone.
"Captain, sir, we're looking for more right now."
This seems to placate the captain, for he heads back to his quarters.
When the door closes, the first mate turns to me.
I've never seen 'im this bad," he says. "I mean, it happens every time he drinks the last of the rum, but ne'er have I seen him like this." He wrings his hands. "God, we faced the world together, and to think that rum has gotten the better of him."
"So, where is the rum?" I ask tentatively.
"There is none," the first mate sighs. "Our captain drank it all, the drunken fool. Our best bet now would be to hide and wait until he passes out in a drunken stupor."
A lilted, warbled singing comes from the captain's quarters.
"We pillage, we plunder, we rifle and loot. We kidnap and ravage and don't give a hoot. So drink up me hearties, yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me."
The first mate hangs his head in his hands. "Here we go again," he says softly. Taking my hand, he leads me over to the deck railing as the captain bursts from the cabin once more.
"First Mate!" the captain slurs.
"Aye, captain?" The first mate's voice is exasperated, as if he goes through this often. (Come to think of it, he most likely does.)
"Where," the captain slurs more heavily now, "Where has all the rum gone?"
The first mate glances at me, quickly motioning for me to jump overboard. I shake my head, and in return I receive a frantic wave.
"Cabin boy," the captain addresses me now, his drunken words almost unintelligible. "Do you know where the rum is?"
I open my mouth to answer when I'm upended myself, my body going heels over head before I crash into the dark water below the ship. Waves crash over my head as the ship sails on without me, each wall of water plunging my head below the surface once more. Within minutes the ship is little more than a dot on the horizon, and just before it sails from my view, I hear one final, unanswerable question, roaring through the air.
"WHY IS ALL THE RUM GONE?"
The man sitting across from me laughs. "Good story mate, but no captain can drink fifty gallons that quick."
"This one can," I reply. "Trust me, he can."
I rise from the table and make my way to the bar, ordering another mug of ale to ease my nerves. A glass of foaming liquid is set before me, and I drink it readily.
Without warning the door to the tavern bursts open, a dark figure in its doorway.
"Where is the rum?" it asks. "Where is the bloody rum?"
I slide to the floor, my heart sinking to my feet.
It's time again for again, again, I think.
Finis