Singapore. Means "City of Lions", or so Mister Phillips says. Pathetic little fishing village that wouldn't be of any interest to anyone exceptin' for the tea trade, says I. And here am I, Jack Sparrow, on shore leave without so much as a guinea to me name, and all thanks to Mister Phillips.
"Ye ought to hold back Jackie's pay for him, Cap'n," says he. "So he don't run off like the other cabin boy did." Aye, well, Danny wouldn't have run off if it weren't for Mister Phillips, who'd made our lives hell ever since he came aboard six months ago. Mister Phillips, with his endless lessons in navigation and mathematics. And readin' and writin', even – as if a sailor had any use for that ! Cap'n never bothered none about that 'til he came aboard. Me and Danny, we knew the ropes and the points of the compass, and Cap'n left us alone, long as we did our work. Which was plenty enough to keep us busy.
But now, since Danny jumped ship at the last port, here's poor Jack with twice the work to do. And here's Phillips goin' twice as hard with the lessons, even beatin' me with a rope when I don't learn 'em fast enough to suit him. Laughin' all careless-like, tellin' me it's for me own good. I hate Phillips.
But enough about him. I've got a full day ashore. There's bound to be somethin' of interest in Singapore, if I look hard enough. First, somethin' to eat. I'm always hungry. Cap'n says it ain't that they don't feed me enough; it's just that I'm growin' so fast. I wish I would grow faster. I'd like to stop bein' so scrawny and get some muscles. Well, I have muscles, but I'd like the kind that show. And a beard. I'd like to grow a beard, not just these few paltry whiskers – I'd braid it and look fierce.
Anyway, I avoid the stalls sellin' dog meat or monkey brains, and get meself some food that looks and smells as though it won't kill me too quick. And that takes care of most of me money, thanks to Mister Phillips. It really isn't fair.
I meet up with a couple of sailors from the Bristol Maid and we all wind up in a little tavern tucked away on a side alley. Sure enough old loud-mouth Phillips is there, holdin' forth about the crown givin' out letters of marque and how profitable it would be to raid and plunder the Spanish and the Dutch. None of the other sailors pay him much mind, and after a while Mister Phillips stows it.
Soon, I'm bored. I haven't got enough money to get drunk like the rest of the crew is. And they're all flirtin' with some local strumpets. None of said wenches bein' the least bit interested in a scrawny cabin boy, even if there was a single one not old enough to be me mother. Then I notice Mister Phillips slippin' out the back, all furtive and sneaky-like. This could be interestin'. I slips out too and follows him through the darkened streets.
Headin' away from the harbor, me and Phillips get to a better part of town. Here there are lanterns lit along the way, and the houses are set back behind high walls. I have to hang back and slip from tree to tree, keepin' out of sight. Soon Phillips leaves the broad, tree-lined street, and keeps to the narrow alleyways between houses. He ducks around a corner. I wait a few seconds and duck after him. It's dark as the hold of the Bristol Maid at midnight. I feel my way along the wall to another corner.
Sneakin' a look around, I see light leakin' out from behind a curtained doorway. There's no sign of Phillips. I tiptoe up to the door and take a peek inside. Before I can even get a good look, a big hand comes down and grabs the scruff of me neck. I start to kick and yell, but another hand clamps over me mouth. "What are ye up to, ye little bastard ?" growls a voice in me ear. It's me old friend Phillips.
"Keep quiet," says he, removing his hand from me mouth before I can bite him, but still holdin' tight to me neck with his other hand. "What do ye mean by followin' me ?"
"Well, sir, I was worried for yer safety," I lie, thinkin' quick. "Singapore is a dangerous place, ye know." A woman has come to the door, alerted by the sound of our brief scuffle. She doesn't seem at all surprised to see two sailors on her doorstep. She's pretty, about Phillips age, I'd guess.
Speakin' of the big ape, he gives a loud snort. "Worried about me, were ye ? I doubt it. Ye were just bein' nosy." The woman giggles. "Jackie me lad, meet Murni. My, ahem, lady friend." He coughs. She giggles. I squirm. His big paw is hurtin' me neck. Abruptly, he lets go, shovin' me away. "Get out of here, boy." I oblige all hasty-like, backin' away down the alley. "And Jackie ?" Phillips calls, "Stay out of trouble."
Well, I would, but like I said, the alleys are as dark as pitch. Soon I'm lost, blunderin' around in the dark. After a while, the moon comes up. I find meself in yet another narrow little back lane, this one with a big pile of straw in it, under a little spindly tree. I can hear goats bleatin' in a courtyard off to me left somewhere. That would explain the straw. It bein' unoccupied, and me bein' tired, I lay down and make meself comfortable for the night.
From this vantage point, I can see into the second story window of the house over the wall to me right. There's a light there, and I can see somebody movin' around. Suddenly I'm not tired anymore. I watch for a long time, until the light goes out.
Now just as I'm driftin' off to sleep, I hears a noise. And what do ye suppose, here's that same somebody climbin' up on top of the wall. I can tell it's a girl, because she's smaller than me and all covered up in a long veil like the local women wear, savvy ? She climbs up and crouches there, lookin' right down at me. I lie still in me pile of staw, me heart beatin' like a drum. Then I understand. Up there in the moonlight, she shows up plain as can be. But down in the darkness of the alley, I'm invisible. I relax and wait to see what she'll do.
She crouches on the wall for a long time, motionless. Then she stands up a bit and braces herself to jump. The wall is only about eight feet high, but she doesn't jump. She crouches back down, then stands up and balances again. Will she jump this time ? No, and not the next time either. I realize she's afraid. Watchin' the girl in the moonlight, I imagine that she's a caged bird, wantin' desperately to escape. But even though the door to the cage has been left wide open, the bird's wings have been clipped and it can't fly away.
I start to feel sorry for the girl, but while I'm tryin' to decide what to do, she comes up with a new plan. She lays down on her belly on the wall and hangs her legs over the side. She squirms around until she is hangin' from the top of the wall, holdin' on with her arms. Even then, she's afraid to let go. I watch her dangle there for a while. I can hear her breath, sort of gaspin'. She won't be able to hold on for much longer. I wonder if I should try to catch her, but I reckon she'll be frightened and scream. Finally her arms give out and she drops to the ground.
Pitter-patter, she's gone, run away down the alley. I just have to laugh then. The little caged bird has managed to fly away after all. I snuggle down in me pile of straw and go to sleep.
