By Rose de Sharon
SUMMARY: missing scene: what happened to Bootstrap Bill after Jones found out the Dead Man's Chest's key has been stolen from him?
DISCLAIMER: the recognizable characters belong to Mickey Mouse.
AUTHOR'S NOTES:
- English isn't my native language, all mistakes are mine.
- Some details come from the "Pirates of the Caribbean visual guide", published by Dorling Kindersley Ltd., others from Wikipedia the free on-line encyclopedia.
Feedback: Flames will be used to reduce my heating bills.
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The men on night watch were still asleep when the bo'sun, Jimmy Legs, came on the main deck for his tour of duty. The first rays of sunshine were illuminating the horizon, giving the Flying Dutchman a warm look with red and golden colors which were completely uncalled for on this ghost ship. This sight was already irritating the bo'sun who hated daylight with a passion, but seeing his crew sleeping among empty bottles of rum dangerously increased his anger. He grabbed his whip and slashed it mercilessly on the unsuspecting monsters.
"Bunch of sea-rats! Having your beauty sleep, are you? I'll teach ya! Drunkards! Good-for-nothing idiots!" yelled Jimmy Legs, punctuating every insult with a strike of his whip.
Alternately howling and begging, the sailors scrambled on their feet while trying to avoid the lashes, but to no avail. Jimmy Legs had a special enjoyment inflicting pain to the sailors – some crewmembers suspected the bo'sun had a pretty rough time with it on his "normal" days, giving him a rage to hurt people on a daily basis with the whip.
"Back to ya posts, ya slugs!" ordered Jimmy Legs. "Double share o' work, plus ten lashes each to remind ya ta stay awake!"
The guilty party distanced themselves quickly from the bo'sun and his whip. The day crewmen were rushing to the main deck to obey the call of "First watch! All hands on deck!"; even though there was a moment of indecision when their comrades didn't go downstairs to sleep. But a few whiplashes and curses from the bo'sun gave them all the needed information: the night watch members were going to be punished for neglecting their duties.
Bootstrap Bill Turner was standing among the day crew's ranks, but he paid no notice to Jimmy Legs and his diatribe against his future victims. His attention was focused on the horizon and, to his great relief, he could see for himself that the Edinburgh Trader had disappeared. He was certain Will had made it to the boat, thus escaping Jones' clutches.
"AAAAAAAAAARRRHH!" thundered a voice from beneath the deck, and all the crewmen jumped in terror, including the bo'sun.
Jones' peg leg thumped in approach, and Bill Turner noticed the sea creatures encrusted to the boat's planks didn't retract into their shells as usual: this time, they were fleeing as fast as they could from the main deck, having felt the Dutchman'smaster incandescent anger.
"WHERE IS THE BOY?" yelled Davy Jones as he charged at his crew, his tentacles swishing in all directions like a deranged octopus.
Instantly, blowfish-face Kaloniko and jellyfish-alike Peterson immobilized Bootstrap Bill's arms. Jones grabbed the elder Turner by the neck with the lobster claw replacing his left hand, screaming at the top of his lungs: "WHERE IS YOUR SON?"
Bill couldn't have answered even if he'd wanted to; the pressure from the claw was strangling him. He was aware that Jones' favorite way to force his victims to speak was to cut off their air until they passed out, and when they came around, tighten the grip again. Within minutes, the victims would beg the Captain to stop, to ask them whatever he wanted to know. But Bootstrap Bill was resolute to face Jones' anger as long as it took to buy Will some extra time to flee. Nothing mattered to the former pirate but his son's safety, even at the cost of his own life and damned soul.
"Answer me now!" roared Davy Jones again. "WHERE IS YOUR SON?"
The pressure around his neck was unbearable and Bootstrap could feel himself falling into unconsciousness. Dark black circles were muddling in front of his eyes and Bill thought it was the end of his torments. Strangely, he wasn't afraid; he didn't mind dying after he'd been reunited briefly with his son. Will has stolen both the Dead Man's Chest's key and his father's heart last night.
Suddenly, the grip was released but the elder Turner didn't have time to gasp for air: Jones' claw slapped him across the face so hard he could have sworn his jaw had broken under the impact. Groggily, Bill heard Jones' orders to "Find the whelp! Search all the ship, from top to bottom!" and his knees buckled beneath him. Only Kaloniko and Peterson's iron grip on his arms prevented him from falling down.
After a short while, the dizziness passed. Bill's vision cleared and he saw Jones staring at him while holding out a piece of dirty cloth in his nearly-tentacle hand.
"My key is missing. All I found in stead is this rag! Your son stole the key and I want it back!"
Baker, the sailor who looked like a shrimp, came bouncing on the main deck.
"We searched everywhere, Captain!" he said in his high-pitched voice. "The boy's not aboard. And one of the longboats is missing!"
Jones hated listening to bad news bearers. One swing of the crab claw sent Baker smashing against the mainmast, almost breaking the crewman in two. Baker fell in a crumpled heap on the deck, his antennas barely twitching in agony. Jimmy Legs kicked the body downstairs through a hatch.
The Flying Dutchman's captain turned his attention back to William Turner Sr.: "You helped your son escape from my ship! Do you know the punishment for such a traitorous deed?"
"Let 'im ta us, Captain!" interrupted Jimmy Legs. "'e'll pay for his crime!"
"Silence!" roared Jones. "You'll explain later how the boy has managed to pass unnoticed from the night watch, bo'sun!"
Jimmy Legs retreated in the background, suddenly afraid for his own safety. Almost inaudible snickers could be heard among the crewmembers but one deadly look from Legs stopped any kind of amused thought.
"What do you have to say for your defense, Mister Turner?" asked Jones with a now deceptively amicable voice, the one he used to "persuade" doomed sailors to serve for a hundred years before the mast of the ghost ship.
Bill Turner's eyes shone briefly above the seashells adorning his face. They were as blue as the cloudless morning sky.
"My son was free to go ashore, you said so yourself, Captain! After the game of Liar's Dice last night, remember?"
Did you honestly think I would leave my son… my angel aboard that horror you call a ship, Captain? You'll have to content yourself with my life and my soul, but never William's!
Jones looked like he was going to strike Bootstrap Bill again, but then he turned back to face his crew. The cursed sailors all looked down in fear, but their silence spoke for themselves. The captain has indeed said, in front of everyone, that Will was free to leave the Flying Dutchman after his father has gambled his own soul at the game of Liar's Dice – and lost the bet so clumsily no one have realized it was deliberate.
Davy Jones grabbed the elder Turner by the throat again: "So, your son sneaked into my cabin, stole the key and a longboat while I was gaining your worthless soul for an eternity. Is that correct, Mister Turner?"
Bootstrap Bill kept quiet. He was ready to suffer any kind of chastisement Jones could ever imagine. A small price to pay for loving his angel!
"And I suppose that you've planned I would waste my time torturing you while your issue would put many leagues behind him, and deliver the key to Jack Sparrow. You seem to have a knack for sacrificing yourself, Mister Turner! Now, tell me..." added Jones in susurration as his lobster claw released Bill's throat, "don't you fear pain from torments worse than those given in Hell?"
"I DON'T CARE!" yelled Bootstrap Bill in his Captain's face.
For the second time this morning, the Flying Dutchman's crew was startled: no one has ever dared to openly defy Davy Jones' authority! And who would have guessed this act of courage would come from the silent and obedient "Bootstrap" Bill Turner?
"Oh, you don't?" snarled the Captain through gritted teeth. "Well, let me tell you this…"
A call from the crow's nest interrupted Jones' tirade: "Ship a quarter stem!"
Bill's eyes flashed in alarm: could the lookout have spotted the Edinburgh Trader already? That wouldn't give Will enough time to distance himself from the Flying Dutchman! But before the elder Turner could think of something, Jones' claw hit him across the face again, sending him into oblivion.