"Well, what I knows about Cap'n Sparrow," The man swayed forward, causing me to pitch back,thinking he was going to fall on me, but he regained his balance. "What I knows, is that he…" The man stopped talking, and his eyes took on a glazed look.
"Yes? Yes!" I grabbed the man's beefy shoulders, shaking him, urging him to go on, but he just passed out. I sighed with exasperation and let him fall to the soiled ground.
I wrinkled my nose and began to walk away, when I felt a hand grab my ankle. I didn't have to look down to know that it was the drunk.
"I might knows where he be," The man chuckled leisurely, still wavering in between unconscious and aware.
"Where? Where is he?" My heart was racing, my eyes wildly scanning the crowds that filled Tortuga's streets. This was the closest I'd gotten to an indication of Jack Sparrow's whereabouts within months of searching for this elusive Captain. And the fact that this man was actually validating the existence of Jack Sparrow, validating that I was in fact not insane… well, that was beyond description. If I ignored the possibility that this man was drunk beyond rational thinking, and the chance that he might just be trying to take advantage of me, it was a sign of fortuity, without a doubt.
The man didn't say anything, only pointed ahead of me with one grubby finger. My eyes shot to where he was pointing, and sure enough, there he was, strolling into a pub. Mind you, it was just the back of him, but I knew instantly who he was, I could tell by his eccentric way of walking. I freed myself from the intoxicated man's grip and made a mad dash towards Jack Sparrow.
I was only a few feet away from the bar that he was entering, which was called some silly name like The Blue Parrot, or The Gunfight. Suddenly, I found myself hesitating. What would make him believe my story? I didn't doubt for a moment that he would assume I was a few birds shy of a flock, or whatever other cliché he could think of. After all, I was about to go up to this man, who I've never really met before, and tell him that I had been having visions of him and his crew being killed while out at sea.
What were the chances of him believing me? Slim to none, I'd say. Only a hopeless little girl desperate for adventure would attempt such a blatantly stupid thing. Quite lucky that I was hopeless, desperate and blatantly stupid, or else I wouldn't have done it. But now, how was I supposed to approach Jack and tell him? I very well couldn't just scuttle up to him and blurt everything out. He'd never believe that. I would have to be careful not to scare him away when approaching him, and be even more careful when telling him about my prophetic dreams.
I took a deep breath, adjusted my posture, and clutched onto my bag like it was my life force before entering the crowded, smoky tavern. The heavy scent of alcohol hit me immediately and I nearly gagged. And not even minutes before entering the bar, I was shoved aside by a burly man with a woman on his arm, but I shouldn't have been so stunned by this. I was in Tortuga, after all. And it was nighttime, too, the busiest time in the pirate town. That was when the harlots came out to play, and so with them came the vulgar pirates and sailors, and with them came the brandy, gin, mescal, rum, tequila, vodka, whiskey, whatever you please. Suddenly I felt myself longing for a cold, mouth-watering Kirschwasser.
Shaking a loose piece of hair out of my face, and ignoring my tempting thoughts on liquor, I made my way through the throng of leering men and women with crimson lips, fairly used to the sight by now, trying to find the ever-evasive man once again. I scanned the crowds, but there were so many people, so many men wearing the same damned tricorne. I rolled my eyes at my own incompetence to keep up with this one man. How hard can it be to keep tabs on one solitary man?
My question was quickly answered as my target sauntered right in front of me, catching me completely off guard, causing me to throw everything I had just planned to the wind. Not wanting to lose him again, I yelled out, "Jack!"
Due to my naturally quiet voice, I was afraid that he hadn't heard me. But he stopped dead in his tracks, seemed confused for a moment, before turning and looking around with a look of puzzlement written on his face, searching for the one who called out his name. It was him, no doubt about it. Every detail down to the number of charms in his hair was the same. No matter how much I had prepared myself before, this caused me to take in a quick breath of astonishment. I brushed the feeling aside just as I had brushed away that free wisp of hair.
"Er, Sir… Mister… Captain Sparrow?" I waved my hand tentatively. He strode toward me with a slow and rather awkward gait, but I figured it was probably because he was drunk, and somehow it didn't surprise me.
After invading my personal space, he studied at me with a cryptic look before simply saying, "Yes?" I took a timid step back.
'…Blast!' I could feel my innards cringing. 'Blast, blast, blast, blast, blast! What do I say? Alright, quickly, introduce yourself,' I cleared my throat.
"Um, alright, my name is Mildred, or, Mil, and I, um, I have been… how should I put this? I have been…" Lord, I felt like such an imbecile. Jack grimaced and looked me up and down. 'Oh, wonderful, now he thinks I'm crazy.'
"I-I have been searching, um, for you?" It came out as more of a question then a statement. I no longer knew what I was saying and suddenly began to think that perhaps I was better off staying in St. Jago de la Vega then wasting my time here.
He tilted his head to the side before a wicked grin lit up his kohl-lined eyes. "Have you, now?" His voice was teeming with amusement. It was either that, or he was trying to be suggestive. I was never good at playing games.
I frowned and shook my head. "Oh, no," I laughed uneasily. "See, I-" I laughed again, probably making myself sound even more insane. "I've been having these dreams about you," His smile grew broader.
"Ah! No!" I realized how much that sounded like an innuendo. "About you, and your crew!"
"My crew?" He quirked a brow, his smile disappearing.
I gave an inward sigh of relief and a small smile. "Yes, you and your crew," I nodded.
"I'm not sure if they are that type of crew…" He paused, and then shrugged dramatically. "I could ask-"
"No!" I shook my head. "No, not that kind of dream," I looked around for an empty table. "Um, perhaps we should sit," I gestured for him to follow me as I seated myself at a table situated in the corner of the pub. He sat across from me, the impish smirk still imprinted on his face.
I folded my hands in front of me and set them onto the table, leaning in closer so that no one else would eavesdrop on what I was about to say. It wasn't that it was privileged information, but I didn't want anyone else hearing me talk about visions and supernatural powers.
I cleared my throat again, a nervous habit. "Alright, um… alright. When…" I licked my lips. "When I say that I've been having dreams, I mean that I've been having, um, visions, if you will," I paused, trying to interpret his expression, but his face was obscure, his narrowed eyes and crooked smile showing me nothing. I wasn't sure whether I should be reassured or worried by this. Deciding to fret about it later, I carried on. "In these visions, you and your crew were out at sea, on your ship, which is called the Black Pearl, if I'm not mistaken," I paused to see if he was going to say anything, but he didn't.
I shuffled in my seat and pulled at my cloak, which seemed uncomfortably tight around my neck. "That was the only thing that stayed the same. In each dream," I swallowed, trying to put this delicately. "In each dream, you… died," I choked on the word, inelegantly sounding like a duck.
Jack leaned back in his chair and raised his brows. "Well… that would be a problem, now, wouldn't it?" He didn't look even somewhat uneasy, as he muttered, never losing eye contact with me, "Give me a reason as to why I should believe you, niblet," He maintainedan unnerving cool.
Luckily, so did I. Actually, I was fairly eager to prove everything to him, and by now, I was anticipating for him to be shocked and awed by me, and to instantly offer me a place on his ship. Just the thought caused my stomach to flutter.
"Not a problem at all," I sounded nauseatingly enthusiastic, and leaned in even closer so that I was nearly standing up off of my chair. "During these dreams, I would gather small fragments of information about you and the party with which you sail. Tell me if this is true," I paused for effect. "When you were younger, you aspired to be a cartographer. Your favorite drink is rum, and one of the men on your crew is exceptionally short. What was his name? Oh yes, Marty," I leaned back, just as Jack did, feeling pleased with myself.
"Anyone could've told you that, after all, I am rather well-known in these parts," He gave me a tight-lipped smile.
"Alright, so that is rather general information. But what about this: I know that you are planning on locating Atlantis, and, I know that-"
"Who told you that?" He interrupted me. He still didn't seem troubled, as I wanted him to be, but he seemed curious.
"Who told me what?" I wrinkled my nose, another habit. "Oh, right, about Atlantis. Well, did I not just say that these dreams revealed information to me?"
His gaze was so concentrated that it made me uneasy. "What else do you know?" he retained that composed, indifferent tone of voice.
"I know that a member of your crew had his tongue cut out and has a parrot who, albeit inaccurately, communicates for him," I paused, trying to recall the name. "The name was something strange, like a type of cloth?"
"Cotton," Jack said as-a-matter-of-factly. "Mr. Cotton. Alright niblet, you have my attention," I was sure I could sense some sarcasm. "So you're having these dreams. What is it that you want me to do about them?"
I sighed. This was going to be more difficult then I expected. "Please, please don't go searching for Atlantis. It's on that journey, I think, that you are going to meet your end, at least if you're not careful," An idea struck me. "Or you could take me with you…"
"If those are my choices, I suppose I'll be extra careful then, aye?" He flashed gold-capped teeth at me.
"I don't think you understand just what you'll be up against," I began to get annoyed by his teasing. "Do you even take this seriously?"
"Suppose I think you're lying," He tilted his head slightly, reminding me of a bird that a friend of mine had owned. It was always twitching and screeching, it was bloody infuriating. "Suppose I think that someone told you I was searching for treasure, and you, wanting the treasure all for yourself, want me to take you with me, so that you'd be in on the plunder,"
Right when he said that, I felt three things. I felt embaressment that heknew my not-all-that-secret wish to join him. I feltdisappoinment from not being able to convince Jack Sparrow of his impending doom. But most of all, I felt indignation that this self-possessed man was so… well, self-possessed. More often than not, I had a calm, almost non-existent temper. I hated confrontation, and arguments were my weak point. But this man struck a nerve.
"Suppose you're regretting those words while you're out at sea, being consumed by a whirlpool. Or suppose that while having your entrails devoured by some monster, you wish you'd heeded my warning," I jeered before getting up to leave. What a waste of time this was. Why was I even trying to help this boorish pirate in the first place? I didn't know him; he was neither a friend nor relative nor even acquaintance. And yet, as I was walking away from him, I felt a sharp pang of guilt, and I knew that I didn't want to leave so soon. That, and the fact that going back to St. Jago de la Vega would mean a life of boredom and monotony. Boredom and monotony, versus pirates and treasure. I made the obvious choice a long time ago.
I sighed at my own lack of common sense, and then turned around, to find him still sitting there, his arms crossed, looking extremely arrogant. He looked arrogant. Unbelievable. "Please," I tried once more. "Just let me prove it to you. Take me to your crew. I'll tell you things about them that even you don't know," I paused, hoping he wouldn't catch my next bluff. "You don't have to take me along to Atlantis, but I could give you some invaluable advice along with a few trinkets that you might find useful on your journey," I felt nervous about lying to a pirate, but it was my last hope.
Jack studied me with those inscrutable eyes. "You're rather scrappy," He said as he stood from the chair and walked up to me. "I like scrappy," he snaked his arm around my neck, having to hunch over slightly due to my diminutive height. "But that doesn't mean that you have a welcome spot on my crew, niblet," he began to walk out of thepub and I really had no choice but to follow.
Questions were floating in my mind like pesky little bugs. What did he mean by that? Was he taking me to his ship? And just what was a 'niblet'?
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A/N: Did anyone catch the Casablanca reference? No? …Well… review… and remember I welcome any sort of constructive criticism!