"Forgive me Father for I have sinned. It's been three days since my last confession." John sat calmly in his seat on his side of the confessional, and waited for the familiar voice of Monsignor Patsey to reply.
"Go on," came an unfamiliar voice. Perhaps Monsignor was sick and couldn't be in church today and had hired a replacement for the time being, or maybe he had a cold, and his voice was cracking. John didn't question the matter though.
He continued. "Well yesterday, I was not myself. I had been drinking with my friends and, after some small scheming between themselves, they took me to a house of ill repute. At first I refused, but the next thing I knew, I was inside having a great time. I know it was wrong, and I am so deeply ashamed of my behavior. The only thing I can do is to ask that God forgive my actions with his whole heart."
There was a moment of silence, and John could hear the minister shift in his seat. "You jus' said ye enjoyed yerself. Did I not hear tha' part correctly?"
John paused in stunned silence, his brow furrowed. "Beg pardon?" He unclogged his ear with his pinky finger. Had he heard correctly? Surely he hadn't. An exasperated sigh came from the other side of the screen.
"God says that yer suppos' ta be happy in life, does he not?"
"Well I guess but..."
"And ye had fun?"
"But Father... sins of the flesh!? With a strange woman who's name I never even knew!? I'm no expert on the matter but I do believe that that's a sin!"
Another exasperated sigh. "Oh fine, if ye insist. Say two 'Our-Fathers' and three 'Hail-Marys' and we'll call it even. Go on, you know the drill."
"Thank you Father." John stood and made the sign of the cross over himself before he opened the door and exited the confessional.
The priest's side of the confessional opened and the resident "priest" stepped precariously through the entryway, and observed the cathedral before him through squinted eyes. But this wasn't the preist that the people of this town were accustomed to seeing. This was a stranger, with a peculiar air about him, and an unusual swagger in his mannerisms, to which the informed person would know as the unmistakable swagger of the feared pirate, Jack Sparrow, the fastest growing threat to all sailors south of the british colonies. To Jack's good fortune, however, the people here weren't the well informed ones.
Jack had only been in this position for two days, and had twice already turned the church services into a three-ringed circus. That is, not to say that he didn't have a good time with it. But he wanted to get off this island already. If only he hadn't misled that priest into thinking that he was the chief of a tribe of head hunters looking to bring his people salvation, he wouldn't be in this mess right now.
Unfortunately for the priest, it was the only way Jack could ensure that his head would still be the proper size when he woke up the next morning. But ever since he'd escaped from the natives and ended up in this position, he had been desperately trying to concoct a plan that would allow him to escape imprisonment, (which would eventually mean death, most likely from the gallows), should his cover be blown. Impersonating a Clergyman of the Church of England was definitely a major violation of the law, and not to mention Christian policy as well. But then again, Jack had little or no regard for the law most days anyway. He was only twenty, but he was quickly gaining a reputation around these parts, as a fearsome, law-evading, scoundrel. He was fast becoming known the most fearsome Pirate in the Caribbean.
The only reason Jack was even on this dried out splotch of land known as Los Rios, (a rather bland little island, with violent natives on one side and a stuffy little colonial settlement on the other), was because the captain and crew of The Lone Shark had become fed up with his constant, infuriating, and inconvenient antics. So they left him here and told him to find another crew, because they were, "sick of him screwing up their plans all the time," to quote Captain Mace. The night that they left him, he took refuge in a rather tall tree, and not ten minutes later, was shot in the arm with a head hunter's dart. After he fell heavily out of his hiding place, they took him to their village, where they dressed him in traditional head huner threads and tied him to a pole for the night to await his ceremonial death the next morning. Fortunately, he had managed to keep his knife on his person and, with some tedious and tiresome adjusting of said knife, was able to cut his bindings and escape. The dim-witted savages also forgot to post someone on guard as well, so it wasn't hard for him to make a clean getaway. It was simply a matter of keeping his actions silent. The next morning, he came to the town of Los Rios, found on the complete opposite side of the island from where the head hunters made their refuge. There, he pretended to be one of the tribesman who'd captured him, and convinced the preacher of St. Barnabus Church to come with him, and show his people the path of righteousness. Unfortunately for the priest, he was, not unlike the head-hunters before him, dim-witted and gullible, and was taken by the natives later that afternoon.
And now, considering the type of fiasco the last two masses he'd conducted had been, Jack thought he'd be lucky to make it through another without his true identity being discovered.
-
"It is to my great and solemn displeasure, to inform you all that Monsignor Patsey has been taken by the head hunters on the other side of the island, and will not be returning. May God rest his soul. If you please, bow your heads and pray that his spirit may find peace in heaven." The parishoners bowed their heads silently. Some of them were crying. Then Michael spoke again, "I do suppose that living with head hunters comes with that risk but... we have also been blessed with a replacement for the time being. Father Jack has agreed to take Monsignor's place for a while. Those of you who attended church yesterday and the day before will already know this. And for those of you who didn't attend, may God forgive you for not being here. No matter how unorthodox Father Jack's sermons may have been..." he glanced at Jack forebodingly, and stepped down from the altar. He gave Jack a slight nod of consent, and in return, Jack placed his palms together and gave the man a small bow as they crossed paths.
"Thanks very much," he said quietly, stepping up to the altar. He raised his hands above his head. "Good afternoon my children! I pray that God has smiled on you yet again today. Yes? Well, on with what ye came here for I guess."
Jack opened the book to the page with the bookmark and began reciting the first reading. When he was done with that, he closed the book and looked out at the parishoners. So innocent and ignorant they were, with their big, admiring eyes and their small, attentive faces.
Figuring it was probably time to move on, he recited the second reading and then the gospel, then started with his sermon. Since the day's gospel had been the story about the son who'd run away from home, spent all his money, then came back looking for forgiveness to meet a rejoicing father and an angry brother, Jack thought he'd give his own take on the tale.
"Firs' of all, when someone runs away, they usually do it fer a good reason. Usually it's because ye never wan' ta see the place ye came from again. So why would ye go crawling back, jus' because ye ran outta money? There's plenty o' people who run away and don't come back. Some of them i are /i destitute, but tha's why there's always stealin' and lootin' ta turn to. If ye don' have a moral sense of decency, then who cares who gets hurt..."
There were stunned gasps from the crowd as they all looked at each other questioningly. Michael knew that he had to stop Father Jack before he went too far, which is why he leaped to his feet and rushed to the priest's side.
"Father," he said tapping Jack on the shoulder, "I think you've said enough. Just... continue with the rest of mass. Please." Michael had already been forced to cut the exuberant minister's previous two sermons short for being too unorthodox. He was beginning to wonder if the church could afford to keep this guy as its priest. But then again, St. Barnabus' Church was paying Father Jack nothing, seeing as he was volunteering out of his own free will, and the church was also grateful for his being here. Plus, there probably wasn't another priest on the island.
Jack whipped around to look at him. "A'right. Thanks." Then he turned back to the floored parishoners, "Thank you everyone! I do hope you had as much fun as I did, so stand now for the song thing!" He made an exuberant gesture for everyone to stand, and walked away from the altar in irritation.
I'm going to shoot myself in the head if I don't get away from here soon, he thought
-
After the mass was ended, Jack made his way to the front doors of the church to shake the people's hands, and bid them farewell until the next time; a routine he'd fallen into over the last few days. At one point while shaking hands, he grabbed one that would not let go of his own. Since he'd been blindly going through the motions, he shook his head and snapped out of his daze, only to look up and find himself staring blatantly into the piercing green eyes of a stunning, young, blonde woman. He was lost for words when he saw her, but he quickly resumed his charming demeanor.
"You're some priest," the woman gushed in a syrupy sweet voice. "A bit unorthodox, I'll admit, but you really have a way with words."
"Yes, well... I am a man of God ye know," he smiled slyly.
"And you're pretty good looking too. If you weren't already devoted to Him, I'd have liked to talk to you again sometime." She batted her eyelashes and turned to leave, but Jack grabbed her by the shoulder, and prevented her from leaving.
"Now, now, come. What would be so wrong with a word between friends ey?" he said quickly, revealing his missing teeth. He took her off to the side. "This is only a day job luv. If ye wanna talk later, I'm sure I could work somethin' out with The Big Guy," he whispered into her ear, pointing toward the sky with his thumb and winking. "Wha's yer name?"
"It's Josephine," she replied, beaming. "I'll be in the courtyard at eight."
"Lovely!" Jack squinted in delight. He hoped that maybe, just maybe, this would finally be his chance to get away from his "day job." He watched Josephine's figure snake it's way down the front steps of the church. After shaking off his daze, he returned to his place at the door to shake people's hands.
-
Later that night, Jack, now back in his everyday pirate garb, (Which was not the same as it was in the movies, all he had was the white shirt, pants, sash, bandana and boots), made his way to the courtyard to meet Josephine like he'd promised. He felt like a slimy murderer or something, what with the way he was skulking down the street in the middle of the night. But he wasn't Jack the Ripper, he was Jack Sparrow, so he continued without a second thought on the matter.
He made it to the courtyard in the center of town, only to find that Josephine hadn't arrived yet. He was early anyway.
Bugger.
He sat down on one of the benches, and stared up at the starless, night sky, and sighed. She'd better get here soon he thought, or I'll come find her, and she'll be wishin' she'd shown in the firs' place...
At that moment, he heard Josephine's sugary sweet voice call his name from across the square, and she came running toward him. "Jack! Come on! Why are you just sitting there!? People are gonna start showing up at the tavern if we don't hurry."
Jack stood, and interlaced his arm with hers; a gesture of a true gentleman. But Jack wasn't a gentleman, and before they even made it to the tavern, he was asking her what she drank.
"Whatever. You know, I work in this tavern, so we can get whatever we want."
"You're a barmaid right?" he asked curiously.
"Please Father. Do you seriously think a prostitute would be trying to seduce a man of God? I don't think so." She smiled coyly, and jerked him by the hand as she bustled forward, with him hanging on loosely.
They made it to the bar, and sat down at the only open booth before some homeless beggar could get there first. He scowled at them with his toothless mouth, and exited the bar with slumped shoulders. Oh well, back to the streets for him I suppose.
"Wait here, I'll be right back." Josephine left and a few moments later came back with two pints of rum. "Did I assume correctly?" She asked setting the glass down in front of Jack. "You are a pirate, are you not?"
He hesitated. "Aye." He picked up the glass and chugged about half of its contents before he noticed that she was staring at him, and he set it down. "What?" he asked awkwardly.
"God, you're attractive. You're rugged and a bit frightening at first glance, but you're not completely unpleasant to be around. Are you sure you're a pirate?"
"I'm not too sure about anything luv. I guess that's what makes me so dangerous." He leaned over the table and got threateningly close to her face. "Does that scare you?"
She gave a light chuckle and raised her glass to her lips, taking a small sip before setting it back down again. "Hardly. If one can be a preacher, there's hardly anything to be afraid of."
"Oh, really? Because I would think, that someone as refined as yerself, would be cowering in fear after just realizing that the priest you were with was really a pirate."
"Oh I knew from the moment I saw you, that you were a pirate. That was no secret."
Jack cocked an eyebrow at her. "Oh. Well do ye know jus' exactly who I am?"
"Of course," she replied after stealing another sip of rum. "You're Jack Sparrow. One of the most fearsome pirates of the Caribbean." She took another sip. Apparently, there was at least one informed person on this island.
Jack was at a loss. He had nothing else left to stump this woman with. "Fine then. If ye know so much, you mus' know that I'm a complete scoundrel when it comes to the female creature." He smiled broadly.
"Yes."
"So ye knew all that, and decided ta pick me up so ye could 'ave a good time? Is that what I'm to assume here?"
"Precisely."
"My dear Josephine, you are way too forward."
"That may be, but I saw the look in your eye when you saw me. You were hooked from the moment I shook your hand." She paused for a moment, staring off into the distance before she turned again to him. "So, you wanna get outa here?"
Jack was taken aback. This woman was insane. "You're a whore aren't you." It was more of a statement than a question.
"I'm forbidden to say."
"Is that so," he said casting his gaze toward his lap as he searched his pockets. "Well, how will I know if I'm ta pay ye fer yer services then?" He held a shilling out to her and grinned.
She smiled, taking the money and grabbing him by the hand before sweeping him out the door.
-
The two of them came rushing out of the bar and nearly stepped on the homeless guy who's booth they'd taken earlier. Not to mention, there was a big angry mob that was waiting for them with torches and pitchforks. Jack and Josephine stopped in their tracks.
"Did you know abou' this?" Jack asked quietly leaning toward her ear. Josephine just shook her head in fright.
"What're we going to do?" she said through clenched teeth. Jack felt her grip on his hand tighten.
"I don' know!" he said in a harsh whisper, "I haven' gotten tha' far yet!"
"You, there! Father! You're not a priest at all are you!?" said a large, burly man from the front of the mob.
"You doubt the legitimacy of your priest?" Jack replied, "what faith in the Lord can you say you have if ye can' even trus' yer own minister?"
"You see?! He's deceiving you even now!" said the man turning now to face the mob, "I heard it from his own mouth! He's a not a priest at all! He's a pirate, and he intends to lead you all along the path to Hell, which is exactly where he's going to go!" There was a great cheer from the crowd as the man waved his torch in the air. Obviously, Jack hadn't been eloquent enough to talk himself out of the situation like he had hoped. "I say... we burn him at the stake!" he said as more cheering erupted behind him, and the mob began to move forward.
Jack's eyes widened. "Bugger. Well this can't be good." At those, words he bolted and left Josephine standing in the tavern doorway behind him.
"What am I supposed to do!? You can't just leave me here!"
"Yes I can, and I am!" he shouted over his shoulder, "you can keep the change though!"
As Jack dashed through the town, he heard the mob gaining on him, shouting and cursing the entire time. He had to think fast, otherwise they were going to catch him.
As he rounded the corner of a large grey-bricked building, he saw a horse-drawn cart, piled high with straw that was just sitting in the middle of the alleyway and, seeing that the alleyway ended shortly beyond it, decided to utilize this cart for his own concealment purposes. He dove into the cart and quickly buried himself in the straw, leaving a small peep hole so he could keep watch for the angry mob that was chasing him.
A moment after he'd made himself comfortable, his pursuers raced past the alleyway, knowing nothing about his current whereabouts. He smiled deviously at his own cleverness, but his self-assurance plummeted again when the cart started to move.
Bugger.
The cart traveled out of the town and into the small countryside. To Jack, it seemed like they traveled for hours, and eventually, the lull of the wheels on the road put him to sleep.
When he awoke later the next morning, the cart was sitting outside a barn, and the odor of pigs and cattle was evident. Jack woke with a start and, pulling straw from his mouth and nose, looked frantically through his peep-hole at his unfamiliar surroundings. He could hear the sound of waves in the nearby distance, so he poked his head through the top of the pile of straw to get a better look. He pulled the stubborn straws from his tangled wavy hair. (No he did not have the dreds yet either.)
Sure enough, the shore was not far away, and there just happened to be a small private dock with a fishing boat tied to it. Jack checked to make sure the coast was clear, then leaped out of his hiding place and toward the dock. In no time, he was back at sea.