James Norrington didn't fear death when his hand slipped off the sword hilt and dropped on the deck lifelessly. He was glad he will die at sea. He never wanted to be buried on land where his body would rot in the earth. Instead, he wished he would turn into sea foam, just like his mother did.
He still remembered.
"Step aside and let James see his mother. He is a boy. Sparing him will not steel his character."
Admiral Lawrence Norrington intended to pass this skill to his son; he always remained poised and collected no matter how violently his heart was ripped apart by the anguish.
The nurse looked down on a child no older than five. Her wrinkled, kindly face was mournful. Her black skirt was hiding his mother from view. She moved aside reluctantly, not daring to contradict the order.
James made a step towards his mother who lay neatly arranged on the deck. He didn't see anything terrible that the nurse was afraid of. His mother was asleep. Chestnut hair framed her pale, beautiful face in delicate waves. Her mouth was curved in a half startled smile, having never expected the death to arrive so early when she had so much vibrancy shine from her soul and so much affection left to gift to her family. James nearly felt that her eyelashes would tremble any moment and she'll laugh at this unfortunate joke. But, the warmth filled eyes that used to look at her son with an unconditional love remained closed.
"Say goodbye," Lawrence urged in a low voice.
James ran his fingers through her hair and leaned down to kiss a cool cheek. He clutched the grey shroud tight as it was gradually pulled over her face stitch by stitch. He wanted to ask how she will breathe when the last stitch went through her nose and then remembered that no one needed to breathe under water. Of course it was so, he was so silly.
Then, he had to let go. Her body was lifted and cast into the sea. James ran down the deck, following the spot where she disappeared. The circular ripples were melting as the ship sailed past them.
"Let him," he heard his father say.
James ran to the aft where he squished in between two thick, railing columns. The emerald water below sparkled bright like his mother's eyes. In the wake's swirling foam he saw her long hair twirling. The enchanting motion swayed back and forth like a beautiful dance. He imagined his mother was having fun, waltzing along with it. He observed it, delighted by the display, but however ethereal the view, he wanted his mother back more than anything in the world. He stretched out onto his stomach and lowered his arm, reaching with all his might for the water, just in case she might remember to look up and change her mind about staying down there. However, she was too occupied to by the game to play with her son.
Maybe if the waves found something else to play with they would allow his mommy to come back to him just for a little bit.
"Please, wait for me, mommy," James pleaded as he crawled back through the bars. He ran as fast as he could to a secret place, frequently looking back, worried that his mother might get bored following the ship and leave. Hidden underneath a lifeboat seat lay his treasure a miniature boat crafted for him by the midshipman. He returned to the aft, cradling the gift to his chest. "You can play with my boat," he informed the waves, holding a dear possession out in his hands as far as he could behind the ship before he released it.
The little toy turned in the air and landed with a quiet splash. The wind bent its only mast and the boat went chasing after the larger ship. She bounced and danced on the waves, slowly falling behind. James waited and waited as it grew into a tiny dot eventually swallowed by the distance. He kept looking into the waves, unmoving.
This is how the nurse found him two hours later, curled up in the mooring lines. She sat down beside him silently, marvelling at the child's unfathomable scrutiny of the waves.
"The cook prepared a very tasty apple pie," she ventured gently. "He said you can have the best piece. Would you like to come with me to eat it?"
James shook his head fiercely. "But, my mommy will leave," he voiced the fear, pointing at the waves.
The nurse cradled him to her side gently. "Your mother will always wait for you no matter where you go," she told the child who glanced up at her with an infinite sadness. "When a person dies and they're given to the sea, those whose souls are pure turn into sea foam. Whenever you look at the waves, your mother will always be there, giving her blessings to you."
"When I die, can I go play with her?" James inquired with an outmost seriousness.
The elderly woman kissed the top of his head. "One day."
This day. Just like for his mother, it arrived earlier than anticipated.
Davy Jones moved on, followed by his crew. One of the sailors nudged the prone body with his foot, clearing the deck. James never sensed the rudeness. He was falling into his mother's embrace where she was smiling at him from the emerald depths filled with pride that her son was so brave, so kind, so handsome… James grew up everything she wanted him to be.
It must have been the Dutchman's magic for his body touched the waves and turned into sea foam.