TIME IN A BOTTLE

Prologue – Ten Years Is An Awful Long Time

"Honestly, who comes up with such silly rules," I complain as we step onto the little island that will serve as our home for the day. "If you do your job well ferrying about the dead, shouldn't you get time off for good behavior? Ten years in an awful long time, Will."

"It's a price I shall pay if it means returning to you, Elizabeth," he says, sticking his sword into the sand next to mine. "We won't be needing these for a time." Will looks up, brushing the hair from his eyes, and gives me a smile that reminds me so much of the half-drowned boy he once was that my knees go weak with longing for the past. It just is not fair. After all we've been through, now that we've finally got our bit of happiness, how can fate separate us?

"Life is not fair," I mutter under my breath. "This last year has amply proven so."

"Are you well, Elizabeth?" Will asks, stepping forward to take both my hands in his.

"It is unfair," I say, ducking my head lower in an attempt to hide my tears. "How can it be that things are finally where they are meant to be yet I am losing you after today?"

"You shall never loose me," Will promises, resting his forehead against mine. "Fate is just delaying our happiness for a time, that is all."

"'For a time'?" I repeat. "For a time? Will, ten years is not a trifling bit of time!"

"I am sorry," he sighs. "I only meant to look on the bright side."

"There is no bright side," I say. "I can't clearly remember a time when I've been without you. You fill my memories, Will. I don't know how to get on without you."

"You shall learn," Will says. "Believe me, Elizabeth, the thought of parting from you sits uneasy in my being as well, but if this is what we must endure, so be it."

"We shouldn't waste time," I say, taking a step back. "We have so little as it is."

Will nods agreement. "Best to make the most of what remains."

---------------------------

I am alone.

Even now, it seems like too cruel a trick for fate to play. I expect to see the flash of green, witness the Dutchman rise again, and have someone tell me all is well. We love and – because we love – the curse is broken before it begins. That is what I hope for yet, after what seems like endless hours of hoping, I have only the sand and water swirling around me and Will's heart in a box to show for it. A strange thing indeed, but I gave my word to keep it safe and that I shall. I lay my hand against the Dead Man's Chest, comforted by the steady thump-thump I hear inside. The temptation is too great, and I lay my head against it, closing my eyes and imagining it is Will's chest my cheek is pillowed against instead of damp wood.

"Can yah be true?"

I sit up with a jolt, clutching the Dead Man's Chest against me. "This is mine and no one else's!"

"Can yah be true, Elizabeth Turner?" the voice repeats as a water spout appears, swirling into the shape of a woman.

"Tia Dalma?"

"Dat is jus da shell yah knew meh as," she says. "Ah am Calypso, Goddess of dah sea. Can yah be true, Elizabeth Turner?" she asks again.

"To Will?" I ask. "He has always had my heart as I his. There has never been anyone for me but him."

"If yah can remain true to your boy wit his touch o destiny, ah shall grant yah a favor."

"What sort of favor?"

"Dah sort yah shall like," she promises, crouching down beside me and swirling her hand in the water. The water turns a strange shade of green and, when she lifts her hand, an empty bottle is balanced on her open palm. "Communication wit yah sweet William."

I take the bottle, cradling it against my chest. "How does it work?"

"For tree months yah fill da bottle wit letters. Any'ting yah heart desires. At dah end o dah tree months, place da bottle inta the sea an' say 'Calypso, deliver mah letters.'" She grins at me. "An' so ah shall."

"And Will?" I ask.

"Dah same. Tree months ta respond – ta fill da bottle -- den ah deliver dem tah yah."

"And we will be able to communicate in this fashion for as long as I remain faithful?"

She nods. "As long as yah are true."

"Do you expect anything in return?"

Tia Dalma – no, Calypso – shakes her head. "Dare may come ah time, ah will require yah ta return da favor. Till den, be true an' love one anutter."

"Yes. Yes, we shall."

The words have barely left my mouth before her body dissolves and returns to the sea. I watch the horizon for a time, wondering what to do next. I have been given this gift, this precious gift, to help me through the lonely months ahead.

"Thank you, Calypso," I whisper, standing and going to retrieve my sword. There really is only one thing to do.

Return home to Port Royal.