PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN:
THE CURSE OF THE BLACK PEARL
The old pirate sat at the tide line, the waves lapping lazily at his feet. He seemed unconcerned that dawn was approaching, and bringing with it the sounds of the nearby town starting to wake up. He had nothing better to do than sit here on the beach and remember bygone days of adventure, friends, and enemies.
The pirate was revisiting one of his oldest friends. They had both been younger when they had met, by far. His friend remained in this town with his wife, and they had prospered and had a family. The pirate had had a harder life, and was ten years older than his friend, who was just starting to feel age.
Deciding to see how is old friend was doing, he had returned, bringing with him memories of the past days of adventure that they had had together.
Footsteps pattered quickly towards the pirate. He seemed not to notice, even though he knew whom the footsteps belonged to. It was none other than his old friend's son. He was twelve years old, and positively adored his father and his "uncle." The pirate was not his uncle, but didn't mind at all that the child call him by that title.
The young boy scraped to a halt, lost his balance, and fell in the sand next to the old pirate. The boy huffed for breath, and managed to gasp out, "Good morning, Uncle." "Mornin'," said the old pirate, nodding, but not looking at the boy.
The boy watched the pirate in silence for a minute, trying to make himself look just as serious and mysterious. Then, the boy opened his mouth to speak, but the pirate spoke for him. "I s'pose you've come to hear a story?"
"You told me you'd tell me one today," replied the young boy eagerly, looking adoringly up at the pirate. "So I did," said the pirate, nodding his head again and managing a grin, "I know you probably hear this all the time, but you remind me so much of your father."
The boy sighed and said, "But I want to be a pirate," and added innocently, "Like you." The pirate nodded and said, "Sure you do." "So are you going to tell me the story?" asked the boy. "Have you heard the story of the curse of the Black Pearl?" asked the pirate.
The boy snapped into focus, his eyes growing wide. "No, I never have heard the story. Did you make it up, Uncle?" asked the boy. The pirate scoffed and said, "Of course not. Every story I tell you truly happened unless I say otherwise."
"Are you going to tell me the story?" asked the boy. "Do you believe in curses?" asked the pirate. "No," replied the boy, thoughtfully. "You will when I'm through with you," said the old pirate. "There's no such things as curses," argued the boy. "Shut your trap, and don't argue with your elders. Just listen. Listen...and learn..."
CHAPTER ONE
A PIRATE'S LIFE
It was in the middle of the Caribbean one day. There was a gray, impenetrable wall of fog. The H.M.S. Dauntless, a formidable, frightening British dreadnought with twenty-five gun ports on each side and rail guns to boot, was sailing through it all, silently.
That is, silent except for the angelic voice of a young girl singing, slow tempo, almost under her breath:
Yo, ho, yo, ho, a pirate's life for me
Yo, ho, yo, ho, it's a pirates life for me...
The voice belonged to Elizabeth Swann, a twelve-year-old girl with strawberry blond hair. She was standing at the bow railing, gazing at the seas, still singing:
Drink up me hearties, yo, ho...
Suddenly, she felt a hand on her shoulder. She spun around. It was just old Mr. Joshamee Gibbs, a man who was born old, with skin like dark leather. He had startled her, but she knew he was all right.
"Quiet, missy! Cursed pirates sail these waters. You want to call 'em down on us?" growled Gibbs. Elizabeth stared wide-eyed at him. "Mr. Gibbs," a voice said behind the old man. Elizabeth looked around Gibbs.
It was Norrington who had spoken. Norrington was a dashing young man, Royal Navy to the core. He glared sternly at Gibbs. Beside Norrington was Governor Weatherby Swann, a man of obvious high station, brass buttons on his thick blue jacket. He was Elizabeth's father.
"That will do," finished Norrington. "She was singing about pirates. Bad luck to sing about pirates, with us mired in this unnatural fog...mark my words," defended Gibbs.
"Consider them marked. On your way," replied Norrington. "Aye, Captain," said Gibbs, moving off, and he mumbled under his breath, "Bad luck to have a woman on board, too. Even a mini'ture one." He returned to his deck-swabbing duties, and surreptitiously took a quick swig from a flask.
"I think it would be rather exciting to meet a pirate," said Elizabeth. "Think again, Miss Swann. Vile and dissolute creatures the lot of them. I intend to see to it that any man who sails under a pirate flag, or wears a pirate's brand gets what he deserves: a short drop and a sudden stop," Norrington said in his usual pompous manner.
Elizabeth, not knowing what this meant, looked over at Gibbs. Gibbs helpfully mimed: a man being hung.
"Captain Norrington... I appreciate your fervor, but I am concerned about the effect this subject will have on my daughter," said Swann.
"My apologies, Governor," said Norrington, moving off. "Actually, I find it all fascinating," said Elizabeth. "And that's what concerns me. Elizabeth, dear...we will be landing in Port Royal very soon, and beginning our new lives. Wouldn't it be wonderful if we comport ourselves as befits our class and station?" Swann said.
"Yes father," said Elizabeth. Chastised, she turned away to look over the bow rail. "I still think it would be exciting to meet a pirate," said Elizabeth to herself.
The fog still hemmed the ship, and very little of the sea was visible. Suddenly, a figure floated into view. A young boy was floating on his back in the otherwise empty water. There was nothing to show where he came from, or how he came to be there.
"Look! A boy! In the water!" shouted Elizabeth. Norrington and Swann spotted him. "Man overboard!" shouted Norrington. "Boy overboard!" shouted Elizabeth.
"Fetch a hook! Haul him out of there!" ordered Norrington. There was quick movement and activity on the deck. The sailors used a boathook to snag the boy as he passed. Norrington and Swann hauled him aboard, and laid him on the deck. Elizabeth sidled in for a closer look.
"He's still breathing," said Norrington. "Where did he come from?" asked Swann. Then, they heard Gibbs mumble, "Mary mother of God..."
Everyone turned from the boy to look at the ocean. The sea was no longer empty. Wreckage from a ship littered the water...along with the bodies of its crew. What was left of the ship's hull was burning, and a ragged British flag was hanging limply from the stern.
The Dauntless slipped silently through it all. It was quiet. "What happened here?" asked Swann, breaking through the silence. "An explosion in the powder magazine. Merchant vessels run heavily armed," replied Norrington promptly.
"Lot of good it did them...," said Gibbs, and after a look from Swann, commented, "Everyone's thinking it! I'm just saying it! Pirates!" "There is no proof of that. It could have been an accident. Captain, these men were protection. If there is even the slightest chance one of those poor devils is still alive, we cannot abandon them!" said Swann.
"Of course not, Governor," said Norrington, turning the crew said, "Come about and strike the sails! Unlash the boats! Gunnery crew...jackets off the cannons!" then, he turned to Swann and said, "Hope for the best...prepare for the worst," and lastly he turned to two sailors and said, "Move the boy aft. We'll need the deck clear."
The two sailors lifted the boy. Swann pulled Elizabeth away from the rail, away from the hideous scene in the water. "Elizabeth, I want you to accompany the boy. He's in your charge now. You'll watch over him?" said Swann.
Elizabeth nodded gravely. Swann hurried away to help unstow the longboat. The sailors laid the boy gently on the poop deck, behind the wheel, and then hurried off. Elizabeth kneeled down beside the boy.
The boy's good looks were not lost on her. She reached out, and gently brushed the blond hair from his eyes.
Suddenly, he grabbed her wrist, wide-awake. Elizabeth was startled, but their eyes locked. She took his hand in hers. "My name is Elizabeth Swann," said Elizabeth. "Will Turner," gasped the boy. "I'm watching over you, Will," said Elizabeth.
He clutched her hand, and then slipped back into unconsciousness. His movement had opened the collar of his shirt. Elizabeth saw that he was wearing a chain around his neck. She tugged it free, revealing a gold medallion.
The side facing her was blank. She turned it over. A skull gazed up at her. Vaguely Aztec in design, but to her eyes, it meant one thing only.
"You're a pirate," said Elizabeth. She glanced back at the crew, and saw Norrington, giving orders, moving towards her. She looked back at Will...and came to a quick decision. She took the medallion from around his neck, and hid it under her coat.
Norrington arrived. "Did he speak?" asked Norrington. "His name is Will Turner...that's all I found out," said Elizabeth. "Very good," said Norrington. He hurried off.
Elizabeth stole away to the stern of the ship. She examined her prize...the gold medallion. A wisp of wind caught a strand of her loose hair, and she looked up.
Out over the sea, moving through the fog, silent as a ghost, was a large sailing ship, a schooner. It had black sails. Elizabeth stared, too frightened to move, or cry out.
The ship was obscured by the fog as it passed...but not the mizzen-top...and there hung the frightening skull and crossbones of the Jolly Roger.
Elizabeth looked from the flag to the medallion...the skull on the flag was the same as the one on the medallion.
Fog surrounded and closed in on all of the black ship except for the black flag. As Elizabeth watched, the skull appeared to turn and grin at her. Elizabeth shut her eyes tight...
...And then snapped them open again, startled wide with fear.
Then she remembered that she was no longer twelve-years-old and standing on the stern of the Dauntless. She was twenty-years-old, and lying in bed in the dark.
She remained motionless. Had it been a nightmare, or a jumbled childhood memory?
Elizabeth slowly looked as far out of the corner of her eyes as possible without moving. Might there be someone in the room with her, looming over her?
She turned, ready for anything. She was alone.
Elizabeth sat up, turned up the flame on an oil lamp beside her canopied bed. She carried the lamp across the room to her dressing table, and sat down.
Elizabeth pulled one of the small drawers all the way out, and reached into a space beneath it. She removed the medallion.
She had kept it all this time. It had not lost its luster...or its sense of menace. She gazed at it as she absently returned the drawer to its place.
Suddenly, there was a booming knock on the door. Elizabeth jumped up, startled, and knocked over her chair. "Elizabeth? Is everything all right? Are you decent?" It was just her father. "Yes...yes," replied Elizabeth.
She put the medallion on, and threw on a dressing gown as Swann entered, carrying a large box. Estrella, a maid, followed after Swann. "Still abed at this hour? It's a beautiful day!" said Swann.
Estrella pulled back the heavy curtains. Elizabeth moved over to them, and looked out of the window at the bucolic town of Port Royal, built on a natural harbor. On a bluff at the mouth of the harbor stood Fort Charles, its stone parapets lined with cannons.
"I have a gift for you," said Swann. He opened the box, displaying for Elizabeth a gorgeous velvet dress. She let out an admiring gasp.
"It's...beautiful. May I inquire as to the occasion?" said Elizabeth. "Is an occasion necessary for a father to dote upon his daughter with gifts?" asked Swann. Elizabeth happily took the dress, and disappeared behind the screened-off dressing area. Estrella followed, carrying the box.
"Although...did think you could wear it to the ceremony today," said Swann. "Ceremony?" asked Elizabeth from behind the screen. "Captain Norrington's promotion ceremony," said Swann.
Elizabeth peeked around the screen. "I knew it," she said. "Or, rather, Commodore Norrington...a fine gentleman, don't you think?" said Swann. Elizabeth disappeared again behind the screen. "He fancies you, you know," said Swann.
Behind the screen, Elizabeth gasped. "Elizabeth? How's it coming?" said Swann. Elizabeth was holding her hair and the medallion out of the way as Estrella cinched her into a corset over her slip. Estrella had her foot in Elizabeth's back as she pulled the laces tight.
"Difficult...to say," gasped Elizabeth. "I'm told that dress is the very latest fashion in London," said Swann. Holding her breath, Elizabeth replied, "Women in London must have learned to not breathe." Estrella was finished. Elisabeth took a breath...and winced.
A butler appeared in the doorway of the room. "Governor? A caller is here for you," said the butler.
The caller, dressed in rough clothing, stood in the foyer, looking very out of place, and knowing it. He held a long presentation case. He polished the toes of his boots on the back of his calves, but it didn't help.
"Ah, Mr. Turner! It's good to see you again!" said Swann. The caller turned. It was none other than Will Turner, the boy who they had found floating in the sea eight years ago. He was now handsome, with a watchful demeanor that gave him weight beyond his years.
"Good day, sir," said Will, holding out the case, "I have your order." Swann hurried to him, and opened the case. Inside was a beautiful dress sword and scabbard. Swann took it out reverently. "The blade is folded steel. That's gold filigree laid into the handle. If I may..."
Will took the sword from Swann, and balanced it on one finger at the point where the blade met the guard. "Perfectly balanced. The tang is nearly the full width of the blade," said Will. "Impressive...very impressive. Commodore Norrington will be pleased, I'm sure. Do pass my compliments on to your master," said Swann.
Will's face fell. Clearly, the work was his, and he was proud of it. With practiced ease, he flipped the sword around, caught it by the hilt, and returned it to the case. Bowing slightly, Will said, "I shall. A craftsman is always pleased to hear his work is appreciated."
Then, Will stopped speaking abruptly, staring past Swann. Elizabeth was standing on the stairs. "Elizabeth! You look stunning!" said Swann. Will tried to speak, but couldn't. He gave up, smiling to himself, and simply nodded emphatically.
"Will! It's so good to see you!" said Elizabeth. Her hand automatically went to the chain a round her throat. The medallion was hidden in the bodice of her dress. "I dreamt about you last night," said Elizabeth. "Really?" Will reacted with surprise.
"Elizabeth, this is hardly appropriate," said Swann. Ignoring her father, Elizabeth continued, "About the day we met. Do you remember?" "I could never forget it, Miss Swann," said Will. "Will, how many times must I ask you to call me 'Elizabeth?'" said Elizabeth. "At least once more, Miss Swann. As always," said Will.
Elizabeth was disappointed and a little hurt by his response. "Well said! There's a boy who understands propriety. Now, we must be going," said Swann. Swann took the case from Will, and opened the door for Elizabeth.
Elizabeth straightened her back, gathered her skirts, and strode past Will. "Good day, Mr. Turner," said Elizabeth. Swann followed Elizabeth out the door. "Good day," said Will.
Will watched as Elizabeth was helped aboard the carriage by the driver. Then, to himself, he mumbled, "Elizabeth." In the carriage, Swann glowered at his daughter. "Dear, I do hope you demonstrate a bit more decorum in front of Commodore Norrington. After all, it is only through his efforts that Port Royal has become at all civilized," said Swann.