It was a small, round object. Many more like it were lying in wait as it was chosen for the maiden voyage. The selected object was hoisted up and brought to a tall cylindrical basin situated a short distance away. It seemed deep and the fluid inside was near impossible to see through, but the object would be manned by a person overhead, diligently maneuvering the fragile article. Then, slowly and smoothly, it began its descent into the opaque liquid below. The delicate object made soft ripples as it oscillated, almost completely submerged. The task was almost complete when the unthinkable happened. The lower segment of the object broke off and drifted to the bottom, unnoticed by the man in control. It was not until the now less rounded item reemerged that the loss was revealed.

"Oh dear… Me biscuit's broke…" Ragetti whined as he swirled his milk around, trying to locate the missing piece. He rubbed on his eye patch with his other hand and curled his lip downward into a mild frown, making him look just as a small child would in any similar circumstance. This was much to the amusement of Elizabeth as she watched the young man squint his pale blue eye at the milk, trying to see his half a morsel through the yellowed glass, stained with age and use. It was about time for a new set of glasses. It had been five or six years since these were brought to her by the lanky blond lad and his stocky bald companion. And still then, they'd already been through countless years of use, by the state they'd been in on arrival. They were clean enough, to be sure. Elizabeth made certain of that after every meal. It was just that she knew they looked filthy. Everything looked filthy. Everything looked unpresentable. The closer the time came, the day she'd been awaiting for almost eight years now, the more she realized that she and her son and her… extended family… were living in, in…

…in squalor!

And it was no one's fault but her own. She was the woman of this household. She was the cook, with some occasional help from the two pirates, mostly the elder of the two. She was the nurse, treating nurturing every little bump and scrape and soothing every sickness that crept its way through the fellows' skin; men are babies when they're ill, she'd decided. It never failed to be so. And lastly, she was the maid. She had always taken pride in her cleanliness and now, as she looked around her humble little wooden hut, she felt ashamed. Not so much while she was alongside her current companions; they were pirates, after all, less than hygienic themselves. Instead, she felt ashamed as she realized that her surroundings would do nothing to impress her husband. His time away was drawing to a close and, although it would still be more than two years before his arrival, she dreaded what his expression might be when he returned to see such minimal progress made to the home… his home, even if only for a day.

"Mum? What are you staring at?"

Elizabeth shook her head suddenly as the voice brought her swiftly out of thought. She looked down and saw her little William standing with his fists on his hips, looking questioningly at his mother, his hazel eyes narrowed in his attempt to look serious.

"Nothing dear," she sighed, gently brushing a wavy brown lock away from the boy's beautiful face.

"You seem troubled, Poppet," another voice commented. Pintel was the next to catch the woman's attention. She looked over to the door way, or the curtain-way, as no one seemed to know how to install a door with a knob. There stood the hefty fellow who'd spoken. He walked into the house with a bundle of long leaves in his arm, still gazing at her as he set them down on the table. "You know he's been callin' to ya?"

"I'm sorry, love," Elizabeth said. She leaned forward and focused her complete concentration on her son.

"I want to go to the shore," little Will said as if it were the twentieth time he'd said it, which it very well could've been.

"Will, I have to make supper," Elizabeth said.

She stood up and walked over to inspect the leaves that Pintel had chosen. They were very nice. She placed them closer to the rest of the ingredients she'd gathered from the pantry, a large wooden crate in the corner. Every other month, when Pintel and Ragetti would sail their tiny boat to the nearest port to collect supplies, Elizabeth was never sure what she'd find in their stash. They brought food, of course, and different types of utensils and other household objects, usally past their prime. They brought clothing, always seeming to overestimate the young boy's size, but Will would always grow into it in a matter of months. They brought rum. That was a given. And they also brought toys and games for Will along with books for Elizabeth to read during her alone time. Whatever they brought on any given trip, however, was hardly ever the same as the last. And sometimes they even brought back some less than useful items. She was still trying to forget the chocolate covered berries they'd given to her. They never left the port with berries. They did, on the other hand, have a couple of live rabbits on board…

Will scowled and crossed his arms. It only took a little over fifteen minutes to walk to the shore. There was plenty of time to play by the water and be home for supper. He knew that his mother wouldn't let him off on his own, though. And Pintel was visibly exhausted from his leaf gathering expedition. This left only one option for the desperately bored child.

"What if Uncle Rags took me?"

This suggestion resulted in a simultaneous eruption of laughter from both his mother and his older "uncle."

"That's a good one, lad!" Pintel hooted. "If ya take that idiot along with ya, you'll be endin' up draggin' his sorry, cryin' behind back when he gets himself lost!"

Ragetti looked up from his losing battle with the glass of milk. The biscuit was most likely a soggy, unpalatable glob on the bottom of the glass by now, but finding it had become a matter of principle for the gawky lad. He'd drunk most of it in his efforts, but to no avail.

"Wot?" he sputtered, milk dripping from his sparse blond moustache into his equally fair beard.

"Well, that's not fair, Pint," Elizabeth said, barely stifling her own laughter.

"I knows the way to shore 'n back!" Ragetti said, sounding not a bit angry, but mildly hurt by the older man's comment.

"Yeah, he knows!" Will shouted, eager to convince his mother to allow the outing.

"It's alright with me," his mother said, smiling at both Ragetti and her son as they excitedly pulled on their tattered shoes. Shoes… Another thing they needed a new set of.

"Rags, I trust you know what time to be home for supper," Elizabeth added as the two gathered their ocean fun materials.

"Yes, 'Liz'beth, I know exactly what time!" Ragetti said, picking up a tin pail from off the shelf. Elizabeth couldn't stop smiling as she observed the display. Once her kidnapper, the gangly young man had become quite dear to her, as did his uncle and best mate, Pintel. It was clear that these two were much different from the other pirates she'd had the displeasure of meeting during her first visit on the Black Pearl. And although he was about six years her senior, there were times when she regarded him as a son more than a friend. He was a child at heart and she was happy to have him and Pintel with her where they would both feel loved and wanted.

Ragetti and Will finally had all of their effects ready and were out the door and off to their nautical adventure. Pintel lay on his cot facing the wall, hoping to get a few winks in before supper. Elizabeth was finally in a nice quiet home and she immediately took advantage of it. After setting the cooking fire outside, she prepared a bowl of hot water and began soaking the leaves Pintel had brought. While they soaked, she mashed up some plantains and salted meat and added a variety of different spices to it. She then removed the leaves and wrapped them around carefully shaped logs of the meaty mixture. Then she tied them up individually in some twine to keep the bundles intact. When the tiny packages were all assembled, she proceeded to take them outside drop them into a pot of boiling water that hung just above the fire. As she watched the meal cook, she took a piece of paper and a pen and began to scribble on it something she'd been thinking about all day…

The fifteen minute walk took Ragetti and Will a grand total of six minutes and twelve seconds. When they reached the shore, they both collapsed in the sand and tried desperately to catch their breath. Between sprinting like they were trying to outrun a gazelle and laughing hysterically at a seemingly choreographed and amazingly acrobatic tumble Ragetti had taken when he got his ankle caught on a root, the two were lucky they hadn't suffocated.

Will was the first to recover.

"Let's… let's catch some sharks!" he shouted, still gasping for air.

Ragetti, still sprawled out on the beach, nodded and pushed himself up, swallowing drily as he tried hard to get his breath back. He was not alarmed by the seemingly treacherous suggestion because he knew exactly what the young boy was referring to as "sharks." He picked up the pail and joined Will in hurrying to the water. There, they waded in to about knee height, mid-thigh height for the younger lad, and waited, stalking their prey.

"I see one," Ragetti whispered. "It's by your foot."

Seeing that the small silver fish was closer to him, Will reached out for Ragetti to hand him the pail and the giggling pirate did so. Shushing the older man, Will carefully lowered the pail over their prize, slowly inching closer and closer, and…

SPLASH!

"Did ya get it? Did ya get it?" Ragetti yelled.

Will snatched up the pail and peered inside.

"No," he said.

"Awwww…"

"I got two!"

"Wot? Lemme see!"

Will proudly showed off his catch and beamed up at his tall scruffy friend.

"C'mon, Uncle Rags!" the boy shouted. He started jogging up to the sand followed by an eager Ragetti.

The two knew exactly what to do next. They worked hard to scrape up a massive castle, complete with scallop shell ornamentation and a driftwood drawbridge. Then came the important part. The mote. They dug a disproportionately large ring around the structure and filled it to the top with the contents of the pail. Now with a castle and an invading army made up of wooden clothespins painted to look like soldiers, a rainy day activity that turned into a weeklong project hat even Elizabeth and Pintel got into, they were set for the next three hours. Then they'd make the long uphill trek back home. That is, if nothing were to sidetrack the pair...

"Gee, Poppet, that smells great."

Elizabeth had been so caught up in her little note that she hadn't heard the clomping footsteps come up behind her. Pintel looked over her shoulder and frowned inquisitively.

"What're you writing?" he asked.

"A list," she replied, a little startled. She took a second to glance into the pot and prod at one of the bundles with a wooden spoon. They were nearly ready.

"A list of what?" Pintel asked, clearly not satisfied with her vague response. He reached over to grab the paper, but Elizabeth shoved his husky arm away.

"No, no. I'm not finished with it. Don't worry, though. This list is meant for you so you'll see it soon enough."

This reassurance didn't have the desired effect on the pirate as this revelation only made him even more curious.

"Meant for me? What is it? Just tell me, Poppet!"

"It's a list of things I need," Elizabeth told him. She glanced up at him and the reaction she saw put a smirk on her face.

"A list of things you need? Well, don't Rags 'n me bring you everything you need?"

"Oh, Pint. Don't get me wrong, please. I really do appreciate everything you've brought… like that lovely statue you got last time… of a man… with an eagle's head… It's brilliant! Very exotic. But there are some things that are lacking in our home that I just cannot ignore any longer."

"Like what?"

"Like… new eating utensils. New cups and glasses. New furniture, even. I'm tired of sitting on wooden crates and eating off of a big plank of wood."

"…But ain't that what a table actually is?"

"Yes, but I want to eat off of a table that was designed and built to be a table with the proper table-making tools! Not some makeshift wooden… monstrosity."

Pintel winced at that comment and, even without seeing this reaction, Elizabeth realized that that was probably not the ideal way to put it. The table had been a gift, a labor of love that that the two pirates had worked almost an entire day to produce, and they'd presented it to her on her third wedding anniversary. She covered her mouth and looked up at Pintel.

"I'm so sorry… Oh, god, I'm so sorry. I'm just… I need everything to look right."

"What do you mean?"

"For William."

"William? But he's not coming for…" Pintel counted on his pudgy fingers. "…two and a half years or sommat."

"I know… But it will have been ten years. Ten years, and this is all I've got to show for it."

Elizabeth gestured to the humble little wooden shack beside them. As they both looked at it, a gull landed on the roof. As it departed, a big chunk of thatch slid down and hit the ground with a miniature explosion of dry bristles.

"I see…"

"So… this is what I need… to start with. And I'll keep the table. I don't know what came over me."

"We'll do our best, love."

Pintel read over the list and saw that most of the items were actually pretty obtainable. And everything else was at least plausible. New leather shoes, shiny new cutlery, nice new furniture, door and instructions on how to mount it, wooden shingles… this item was added post-gull…

It was two hours into their game when Ragetti decided that they should let the little fish out of the mote. The last time they'd played this game, they'd forgotten to keep refilling the mote after the sand absorbed the water and one of the tiny creatures died. Ragetti, being the animal-lover he was, felt guilty for days. When Ragetti picked up the pail to gather the fish in, Will hopped up and grabbed it away from him.

"Let's see if they can find their own way back!" the boy shouted.

"How d'ya mean?" Ragetti asked.

Will bent down and scooped away a long trail of sand leading away from the mote. Some of the water followed the path and so did one of the fish. He kept moving along backward, watching as the fish followed him every step, or swish, in the fish's case, of the way. Ragetti grinned and he, too, bent down and started on his own fish. Naturally, this became a race and the two were neck and neck until they finally reached the water. The tide was coming in and the surge of water that came from behind them favored Ragetti's fish, as his side was swept away a few seconds before Will's.

"No fair!" Will shouted.

"No, guess it ain't…" Ragetti said, looking out to see the two fish swim away into the sea. "…Still won, though!"

"What? No!" Will shrieked as he sloshed toward Ragetti. Ragetti, being only shin deep in the water, wasn't nearly as inhibited by the shallows as the child and he got himself a good running start. By the time Will was out of the water, His older comrade was giddily scampering across the sand.

The sun was beginning to set and the long shadows cast by the two cavorting pals were beginning to fade into the darkness around them. Ragetti was taking a time out beside the collection of their belongings when he finally noticed.

"We should be getting back now, huh?" he asked looking up at the sky. "Supper's pro'ly ready."

"Yeah, okay," Will mumbled, reluctantly.

The pair gathered up their things and started trudging wearily back home. There would be no race this time.

"Wot ya s'pose she's makin'?" Ragetti asked as they made their way uphill.

"Dunno. Something good, I hope. I'm starving!"

"I want somethin' hot."

"It'll probably be hot. Why else would she need so much time to make it?"

Ragetti smiled and licked his lips. Elizabeth was the best cook he knew. He didn't really know too many of them, but he had a feeling she was one of the best anyway. He just couldn't imagine a tastier meal than Elizabeth's chicken soup. The very thought of it made his stomach feel decidedly empty. Whatever it was that she was cooking, it was going to be magnificent.

Ragetti kept on walking and pondering what his delectable meal might be. In doing this, however, he didn't seem to notice that the tapping of the small boy's feet had ceased. It wasn't until he heard a loud rustling sound that he spun around and saw the lad halfway up a tall tree.

"Will!" The gangling fellow hurried toward the child and anxiously watched as he scaled the branches, littering the ground with leaves as they spiralled down to the ground.

"Uncle Rags! Come on!" Will shouted, gesturing for the pirate to follow.

"Why ya climbin' up there for?" Ragetti whined, circling the trunk, trying to get a better view of the boy. "I thought we was goin' home!"

"We are! Just c'mon first! It won't take that long. This is the only time I can climb this tree 'cuz Mum never lets me!"

"Well, if your Mum doesn't want ya to..."

"Uncle Rags!' Will demanded.

Ragetti flinched. He really didn't want to disappoint the young lad. He was always as submissive to the boy as he was to everyone else around him, making him more of an equal to Will than a proper guardian. The older man felt a subtle tug at his conscience, but he obeyed. Before climbing up the first tree limb, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his pocket watch. They had ten minuts to get home...

"Alright."

He began his ascent. Ragetti's curious nature had, soon enough, gotten the best of him and before long he'd forgotten about the time completely. This really was the tallest tree he'd seen on the island, and he'd seen a good portion of it. With the tree situated on midway up the hill, the two were bound to see the entire island and then some from high up in its branches.

"It's a long way up!" Will shouted from up ahead.

"Cor, it is!" Ragetti replied, stretching his long limbs and gaining on the boy.

They both reached the top at almost the same time and gazed at their moonlit surroundings. It was breathtaking. Everything, even the island that Ragetti had once gotten lost for hours on, seemed so small. It took a very long time to climb up so high and Ragetti was now beginning to get a heavy sinking feeling in his stomach as he thought of what Elizabeth might say when they arrived home so late. As much as the small child inside of him urged him to stay and swing on the branches for just a while longer, he decided that they shouldn't risk making Elizabeth worry any more. Who knew what she was thinking now?

"Will, I really think we should be goin' home now," Ragetti said, making a move to start his descent.

"No! I just got up here! Ten more minutes!"

"But Will... Your mum..."

"Later, Rags. Let's pretend we're spies! Look! There come the enemies now!"

"Wot?"

It was true. Glancing to where Will was squinting through his curled fingers like a looking glass, Ragetti saw the glow of a lantern hovering along in the darkness. When he slowly realized the only possibility for who was carrying the light, he panicked.

"Will, we can't let them see you up here! 'Liz'beth will murder me!" he whispered frantically.

"No she won't," Will said, but began to climb down anyway, wary of his own impending punishment, would his mother catch him.

"Faster, faster!" Ragetti wimpered as Elizabeth and Pintel drew closer. It was definitely them. He knew it must've been them, but now that the light revealed their faces more clearly, he became frightfully aware that they were not happy. Supper most likely had gotten cold while they were playfully monkeying about in the tree, and he'd assured Elizabeth that they'd be home before then. It was all he could do not to break down at the thought of losing Elizabeth's trust, the trust he'd only just figured out he had this afternoon. This was the first time he was asked to take the boy with him and be in charge and now it would probably the last. He gave one last whimper before dropping the last few feet to the earth. Will swung down next to him, still giggling at the fun he was having. But before they could distance themselves from the scene of the crime, the light of the lantern was now in Ragetti's face, glaring accusingly into his eye.

"What in the world were you two doing?" Elizabeth asked, stepping past Pintel and almost knocking the lamp out of his hand.

"Nothing. We were walking home from the beach, right Uncle Rags?" Will said, glancing at Ragetti with a warning look.

"...Err, I... Yeah, we... walkin' home... just now," The shaking pirate managed to stutter.

Elizabeth could smell the lie. Ragetti hadn't looked into her face since she'd first opened her mouth. She hadn't seen them hop out of the tree, but she knew what happened and she was surprised that the usually honest man was trying to hide it from her.

"Ragetti?" she said.

"Yes?"

"You wouldn't lie to me, would you?"

"N-n-no."

"I didn't think so. Very well, let's go home."

Will gave a silent sigh of relief and an approving nod to Ragetti. The older man winced and hung his head, feeling aweful for what he was doing. Just as they were all getting ready to leave, Elizabeth turned around and smirked.

"And don't forget your sash, Rags," she added.

Ragetti looked down and gasped when he saw that his red sash was missing. He looked all over the ground for it until Elizabeth pointed to tree. There, in the lower branches, it hung draping a few feet over the grass. Will and Ragetti froze, wide-eyed and glanced at each other. The jig was up...

"Haven't I washed enough dishes?"

"Rags, you mind the Poppet," Pintel reminded his tired sweaty nephew.

"He made me do it..."

"Did not!"

"Ya did so!"

Will tossed one of the wet rags he was using to scrub the table at Ragetti's face, giving rise to a barrage of retaliation splashes from the wash basin.

"You ever gonna let those lot out on there own again, Poppet?" Pintel asked, rolling his eyes.

"Maybe," Elizabeth said, turning a page in her latest book, The Wonders of the Horseshoe Crab; Pintel and Ragetti weren't very selective in the books they brought home to her.

"Really?"

"Well, I think they've learned their lesson."

"POPPET! Will snapped me eyepatch in me face!"

"Shut it, ya lummox!" Pintel growled at his nephew.

"Will, you get back to work!" Elizabeth hollered at her son.

The morning's chores were going by anything but smoothly, but they were getting done none the less. And when the day was through once again, the two troublemakers were in bed before the first stars had a chance to show themselves. Pintel finished off his after-supper rum and was soon fast asleep as well. Elizabeth extinguished the lamps and lay down in her sectioned off room, separated by curtains. She finished her book and set it down next to Choosing a Winning Mule and A Study in Tarring a Boat. Drifting to sleep to the sound of the rain hitting the thatch roof above, she felt happy, satisfied with her new life. A sudden pat of a raindrop hitting her square on the nose jolted her out of this pleasant thought, however.

"Shingles."

Perhaps she would have to rearrange the order of her list...