The Fountain of Life
Introduction
A pair of boots could be heard clumping along the deck. Fluttering through the tattered, ruffled plumes on a hat, the breeze went on its way. The Black Pearl was framing the tall rough figure of Captain Barbossa. He halted, looking around him for any sober witnesses. Nothing but a bunch of worthless winebibbers, he thought scornfully. As he drew his studded dagger out of his belt, Barbossa took a side-long glance and stepped into an insignificant, little dingy. Once he reached the seat, he bent down and carved a hole in the bottom of the boat; making sure that the shavings were pushed through into the black water below. Satisfied with his work, Barbossa strolled back to board the Black Pearl. Barbossa almost cracked a smile at the thought of Jack Sparrow being left behind with a leaking dingy.
Chapter One
The wind was blowing steadily and the ocean was calm. It was a beautiful day to sail… or sleep. The dingy that cradled Captain Jack Sparrow and half his worldly belongings bobbed lazily on the waves. Empty bottles of rum clinked together as they rolled around in the hull. Other than that, no sound could be heard save the sea. Jack had his hat down; covering his face from the brilliant sun. For a moment, the wind picked up and the waves rolled into the boat and onto its dosing captain. The ocean water was adding to the collection of water already in the bottom of the dingy.
Grunting, Jack sat up and hauled himself to his fee. "Blast these waves!" he cursed as he sloshed around for a bucket to scoop the water out. He hadn't make port yet, and was running extremely low on supplies. Worst of all, there was no rum left. Also, the only map he possessed was the chart to the World's End. Isn't of any use NOW! Fuming, Jack vented his stress. He had no loyal crew left except Gibbs whom he had left at Tortuga with Giselle and Scarlett. Jack squinted, scanning the horizon. Tortuga was in sight once more. It had been three days since Barbossa had stolen the Pearl and Jack was in a bit of a spot. Jack's mind was flooded with thoughts of vengeance as he headed back to Tortuga.
Before, as he was trying to chase the Black Pearl down, Jack had noticed that there was a leak in the bottom of the dingy. In the beginning, it was small enough to plug with a cork from a rum bottle. Now, however, it was much bigger; about the size of a child's hand. Jack had stuffed it as well as he could with some canvas, but it wasn't working too well. Thus he was forced to return to Tortuga for a change of plans.
~ * ~
At the moment, Barbossa was setting sail from Port Royal. Jack had stolen his map, and he wasn't about to let Jack get away with it. He would find Sparrow and maroon him once and for all on some God-forsaken island with no rum before Jack could shoot him again. Barbossa was going to do all he could to get rid of Captain Jack Sparrow. Jack had been a thorn in his side for far too long.
~ * ~
Only another three years… Elizabeth Turner sighed drearily as she filled up a tankard, resting her other hand on the counter. Her thoughts drifted off into old dreams and memories.
"Well?" a relatively drunk sailor asked impatiently, interrupting Elizabeth's day dreaming. "Are you going to give it to me or not?"
Elizabeth turned condescendingly to her patron, "I'll give it to ye when I'm good and ready!" The man withdrew a little from the bar astounded at the outburst. Remembering soon, however, that his rum wasn't in his hand, the drunk glanced hinting from Elizabeth to the tankard. Breaking her moody stare, Elizabeth thumbed it down in front of the man; making sure that it splashed a little over the top and onto his breeches. The sailor, too glad with his drink, didn't notice (half to Elizabeth's disappointment), downed it immediately and, with a thump, he fell off his seat.
Shaking her head at the poor, intoxicated man's plight, Elizabeth grabbed a stack of dishes that needed to be washed. As she began her work once more, it was soon interrupted by the tugging of a small hand at her skirt. A boy of about seven years of age looked up at her and held up a small, worn leather bag.
"William!" Elizabeth whispered in a reproving tone as she snatched the pouch from Will's up-raised hand. "Where did to get this?"
Her son shrugged, "I found it over there." Little Will pointed to a corner in which a brawl was taking place.
Elizabeth, worried at what trouble it might bring, opened the bag as she inquired further, "Do you happen to know who it belongs to?" Even though it was a dirty old bag found on the floor in a bar in Tortuga, doesn't mean that it wasn't something important to the owner. And generally, when owners are missing something, they can blow their cap over it.
After Elizabeth had opened it, he peeped inside with wide sparkling brown eyes, and pointed at it.
"Isn't it be-u-ti-ful?" the young boy asked as he tried to form the word. Now it was Elizabeth's turn to peer in.
Elizabeth gasped at what she saw inside the little pouch. A diamond, about the size of a small prune and intricately cut, glimmered at her with a strange, luminous light. Besides the diamond, there was a worn piece of cloth with black markings all over it and a couple silver coins. Silently, Elizabeth gazed enchanted at the precious stone. Blinking her amber eyes, she carefully drew the drawstrings of the bag closed. Elizabeth sensed that trouble was in the air.
A man sitting at the bar farther down saw her surprised and worried expression. Wondering what the problem could be, his eyes soon latched on to the bag. With in it, he saw the glow emanating from the bag right before Elizabeth tied it up tight. His eyes lit up.
"William, darling, go put it back right away," Elizabeth sternly ordered her son, bending down and gently smoothing his plump cheek. Little Will nodded obediently and was sent on his way with a tender little push from his mother.
This was Tortuga, a pirate haven. All it took to spark an enormous brawl in which someone could be killed was a little boy of seven years to accidentally find a dusty old bag with a rare diamond in it. In past years of running the tavern, Elizabeth had seen enough of them. And ended them.
Her tavern, the Medallion, was smack dab in the middle of Tortuga's busiest port. Also, it was known for its excellent rum and the owner's steady, iron-handed control. Though most of the populous of her patrons didn't know who Elizabeth really was, a few pirates and Corsairs did. They were the ones who had been on adventures with her and fought beside her. Some of them were Will, her husband; Jack Sparrow, Barbossa and the other pirate lords. (She had met the pirate lords when they had stood up against Lord Beckett's fleet and The Flying Dutchman's terrible captain, David Jones.) Only they knew the she, Elizabeth, was married to the man who had stabbed the still beating heart of Davy Jones, and that she had been responsible for the first successful attempt for Captain Jack Sparrow's death. However, many people did know that, if in a bad mood or in a protective state, she could be a deadly enemy.
William trotted off to replace that which he had taken. As he went, Elizabeth watched him for a little bit; thinking of how much like his father he was and would become. With a wan smile, Elizabeth returned to scrubbing her dishes and counter tops, and refilling wanting tumblers.
Just as Elizabeth pocketed another coin, a booming roar filled the room followed by a small scuffle.
Remembering her son's errand, Elizabeth whipped around to see William being held up by the collar of his shirt by a brawny pirate. The pirate was trying to grab the leather bag from William's grasp. Anxiously, Elizabeth slid over the counter and drew her two pistols; cocked and ready. Elizabeth shoved sailors, drunk and sober alike, aside; heading straight for her boy.
"Leave 'em alone!" she yelled, her eyes aflame with motherly protectiveness. She aimed both of her pistols at the pirate's heart. She would do anything to insure her son's safety; he was practically all she had left, her husband was just about as good as dead.
With his dagger at the child's neck, the half drunk man looked from Elizabeth to the boy. "What's this?" he scoffed with a hiccup. "The mother comin' for her young?" He laughed tauntingly. "Perhaps this lassie taught her son how to pick a pocket clean!" Then knife drew closer to William's neck. William's eyes started to well as he watched his mother trustingly.
Elizabeth didn't waver an inch. "Put him down or these bullets will leave my possession and pierce your Black heart!" The tavern, by now, had become as quiet as a graveyard on Sunday and several pirates had already moved away from the disturber.
Ignoring all said, the pirate proceeded to press the dagger harder to the boy's neck when two shot resounded in the room. The man's weapons clattered to the floor along with William who was released from the departed pirate's grasp. The man slumped to the floor; two red splotches spread rapidly across his shirt from the left of his chest. Elizabeth had aimed well.
She shoved her pistols into her belt and hurried over to comfort her frightened son. As she knelt down by her son, she grabbed the bag in a fold of her skirt to escape notice. Then, holding on to Will's hand, she hurried him up stairs to their living quarters, but before ascending, Elizabeth briefly announced to the still curious patrons. "The pub is closing! Refills are no longer available for the rest of the night! Out!"
As Elizabeth ushered her son up the stairs, the patrons slowly filed out. Some of them remembered the body of the troublesome pirate and decided to heave him out and bury him. Other than that, they all left, none wanted to risk the wrath of Elizabeth Turner who was already warmed up.
~ * ~
Meanwhile, a pirate by the name of Jessie Thomas Vaugahan, the very same who had seen the leather bag when he was sitting at the bar, waited patiently outside the pub. He had watched the whole thing transpire, soaking up every detail: the little boy going to his mother, Elizabeth's surprised expression, her sending her son to put it back where he found it, the pirate trying to take the bag from William, the death of the unfortunate scalawag …everything. The only reason why he wasn't searching the body for the bag was because he had seen what no one else and taken notice of: Elizabeth's slender hand sliding along the floor quickly as if to straighten her skirts, but instead to carefully enfold the wanted bag. Jessie had silently watched it all. He knew what was in the sack ever since he saw the glimmer of light coming from the bag. He also knew that the contents of that bag were his ticket to the good life. Jessie swore that he wouldn't leave that port unless he had that bag.
Jessie was better known by his dead twin's name, Jessie's own middle name, Thomas. Thomas D. Vaugahan was rich, famous and successful. Jessie, even though he was even more successful, was always dim in his brother's glow. He became jealous and killed Thomas and took his place saying that the body was Jessie's and that he had been killed during some private dispute. No one ever questioned the matter.
Now Jessie hid in the shadows. Elizabeth had immerged from the back door of the pub with a basket of broken dishes and food scraps. She briskly walked down the alley to a large hole in which she dumped the garbage and then took a shovel that was leaning against the wall and pushed in a layer of dirt. Then Elizabeth crept off to the bay to think once again of her beloved.
As she walked away, Jessie stealthily moved over to the door. When Elizabeth was out of sight, he pushed the creaky door open. As his eyes adjusted to the even darker room, the intruder found his way up the stairs. The kid will probably be in bed, he presumed. And when I got the kid, I got her.
At the top of the stairs there were three doors. From underneath one of the doors, brimmed candle light, the others were dark. Jessie stepped silently nearer to the lighted door and listened for any sounds coming from within. The child was still awake.
Blow high! Blow low! And so sailed we!
I see a wreck to windward and a lofty ship to lee!
A sailin' down on all the coasts of High Barbary…
The song was carried on a perfect tune by a pure, sweet child's voice. The chosen door flew open and immediately William stopped singing. Standing there, the pirate drew his sword. The little boy let out a gasp.
"Yer comin' with me, boy!" Jessie commanded menacingly.
"No!" shouted William defiantly. "I'm not a-scared of you! Mum taught me how to…"
William was cut short. Jessie had hauled him up by his arm, "You're coming with me 'cause I need something from yer mother, and you'll be a good way to ensure her good behavior!" William stuck his tongue out at the abductor and then pulled something from around his neck. It was a whistle.
Fweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
Jessie soon hears the rapid footsteps and the creaky door swing open. Elizabeth had heard the whistle strains from the beach. William needed her.
"William!" she cried as she ran up the stairs. She burst through the door to find the room empty. As she searched the room desperately, she heard the door shut behind her.