'Pirates of the Caribbean' belongs to Disney.
xxx
"It certainly wouldn't have occurred to me to lay down Turkish rugs in a play room," Elizabeth mused.
The Pirate King was standing beside the doorway of said interior, keeping vigil on her two-year-old son Willy and a dozen other children (or something around a dozen- it was nigh impossible to get an exact count.) So many fine weavings landed up in Shipwreck Cove that the residents held a different view about what constituted appropriate usage for them. Certainly that deep pile certainly afforded excellent cushioning, Liz observed, as a dark little girl picked herself up from a fall and rejoined the tag game. "No grabbing hair!" Liz called warningly to the much heftier redhead who was currently 'It'.
She had better appreciation for the room's abundant playthings, originating from as many parts of the world as the youngsters themselves. Cornhusk hobby horses, gourd rattles, roughhewn wooden blocks, fine china dolls, braided rush hoops, antelope-hide drums, carved ivory elephants and seals- all were available to whatever child wanted to play with them. None of that meting out of toys according to social rank, so familiar to Elizabeth's nursery days. She certainly envied them that. Now if only more of these kids would remember to put said toys on the shelves before starting one of their more boisterous games...
"Captain Turner?"
Elizabeth turned towards that call, saw a rather grizzled man approaching. From his age, she guessed whom he probably worked for before his words confirmed it.
"My Liege, the Keeper of the Codex 'spectfully requests immediate audience with ya, in the Great Cabin aboard 'is ship. Some matter afoot be needin' yar testimony." Noticing her glance towards Willy, the geezer added, "I ken keep an eye on the whelps 'til ya return. Do ya need directions?"
"Thanks, but that won't be necessary. The Star of Madagascar is never hard to find," Liz assured.
Indeed, even someone less familiar with Shipwreck Cove than she would have had little trouble locating said ship. Even among the motley bunch docked around the Cove's central island, Edward Teague's vessel was distinct. As she ascended the dank gangplank Liz reflected that, like many seasoned vessels, the Star reflected her longtime captain- rather dour and brooding, obviously past her prime, but clearly still a force to be reckoned with.
The long-in-the-tooth crewmen nodded respectfully as she crossed the deck to the great cabin's door. Knowing she was expected, she let herself into the underlit but well-appointed chamber.
Two faces turned towards her, Teague's and- no surprise at all- Jack Sparrow's. The pair were seated in low cushioned chairs beside a short table- a large etched-brass tray mounted on wooden legs. Enticing scents of coffee and honey mingled with the usual tar and tobacco odors, but Liz did not examine the table contents. Etiquette demanded she keep her gaze on the Keeper of the Code, though her practiced peripheral vision was also studying Jack.
"Good of you to come, Captain Turner." The older man was without his large plumed hat (which Liz privately compared to a badly-stuffed pheasant), but wore his usual gaudy red frock coat. His furrowed visage was no fiercer than usual. His son, Liz noted, was the one who looked agitated.
"I'd hoped you could confirm the veracity of a certain report." (Jack shot Liz a semi-pleading glance.) Fixing his piercing dark eyes on her, Teague quietly asked, "Did you recently order Jackie to give you an account of his family lineage?"
Elizabeth instantly understood the situation. Though she had no wish to get Sparrow in further trouble, she knew attempting to deceive the Keeper was futile. Diplomatic phrasing seemed her best option.
"I did not use the word 'Order', sir. But I suppose, as I was the one asking, it could have been construed as such."
From the way his mouth thinned, Liz knew Teague knew exactly what she was up to. She continued to meet his eye steadily none-the-less.
"Was this an inquiry you instigated?"
Here was firmer ground. "Yes. I did not intend to pry family secrets from him, Keeper Teague. It simply seemed appropriate, given our long association, that I should learn something more about Jack Sparrow's background."
"And what did you learn?"
"That you are the disowned son of a noble English family, whom neither you nor Captain Sparrow wish to have any further association with. And that your offense was making an unorthodox choice of wife. I have not learned your original surname. Jack was reluctant to reveal it, and, as I have no need to know, I did not insist he do so."
Teague looked sharply to his boy, who smirked in a 'What did I tell you?' manner. Liz relaxed- apparently she'd said the right thing.
The fragrance of coffee was becoming quite distracting. The Keeper took note of Liz's intrigued sniffing. "Please pardon my poor manners, Mrs. Turner. You are quite welcome to join us." He indicated a third lowset chair.
"Thank you- I could use some replenishment." As she sat Liz looked over the offerings; a small brass coffee pitcher, several handleless ceramic cups, a plate generously heaped with baklava- a layered pastry-and-nut confection Teague and his son were both partial to. Elizabeth poured herself some of the thick brown brew, lifting the little cup by it's rim.
"Careful, Liz. It's Turkish- very strong!" Liz took a sip and almost grimaced. Jack hadn't been exaggerating.
Teague had an easier time draining his own cup. "As you're interested in learning more about Jackie, perhaps you'd like me to relate a few events?'
An apprehensive flash crossed Sparrow's visage. Liz cocked an eyebrow. "Keeper Teague, were you to planning to retaliate for your son's indiscretion by relating some embarrassing anecdotes about him?"
"It'd occurred to me." The fierce eyes gleamed wickedly.
"Then tell away!" Elizabeth leaned back, crossing her trousered legs. The younger man went stiff with dread.
But Teague elected to show mercy. "I only said it had occurred to me, Liege."
Liz waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, well- I don't need to know that either." As she reached to the pastry plate she noted Jack sagging with relief, and couldn't resist adding, "You may offer me a consolation by explaining another matter I'm curious about, Captain Sparrow."
"I knew there'd be a catch," Jack muttered. "What did ye want to know?"
Mmmm!" The Pirate King purred at her first bite of the baklava. This was certainly the best she'd ever tasted; crisp fillo, good balance of honey and spices, fresh-tasting nuts. Though the bitterness of the coffee might be skewing her appreciation. Small wonder the two were customarily served together.
Liz swallowed carefully before answering. "You appear to have followed your father's example of taking on a new surname. I wondered if there was a story behind that."
The two males cut eyes. "No dark secrets there, Jackie." Teague set down his empty cup, reached behind his chair and brought forth his decorated guitar.
Jack shrugged agreeably, taking a slice of pastry for himself as he settled into his narrative. "My original moniker was 'Jonathan Bharadwaj Teague'. The middle name was borrowed from my late maternal grandfather- who, unlike my paternal one, was held in high regard by his offspring. It means 'Fortunate Bird' in Hindi, me Mum's native tongue. I assume that's why all her... endearment names fer me had avian themes. I never let her use any of those in front of me mates. Nor 'Jonathan' either- they'd shortened that to 'Jack' on first hearing. But when it were jus' the two of us..."
Jack paused, recalling that long-stilled singsong voice. 'Chalo, beta uthho... My sweet little bird... Mein tumse pyar karti hoon, suparn...' His eyes shadowed.
"I was seven when Mum caught the consumption. It took five years to kill her. Relocatin' to a better part of London, away from the Thames, gave us easier livin' conditions but didn't do much to slow the wastin'. When she were in the final stage Da took her aboard this ship, so's she could spend her last days sailing with him. She looked bloody awful by then. Twice her natural age, coughin' every other minute, barely able to walk." He glanced away for a moment, as Teague played a series of mournful notes.
"Mum begged me ta come too, but I was stubborn as any twelve-year-old could be, railin' that I'd not be settin' foot on any pirate ship. At that point I'd convinced myself that Da was to blame fer it all- if he hadn't gone pirating he'd not have done prison time in Java, leaving us stuck beside that pestilential river long enough fer the stench to infect her lungs. One of the last times Mum ever saw me, I was givin' strong words to Da on the dock. Yellin' to his face that I wasn't ever going ta be the disgraceful excuse fer a man that he was, that I'd make my fortune as an honest sailor. No resortin' ta lawlessness like he'd done. An' I certainly wasn't gonna carry his name any longer!"
"It was rather similar to the parting 'conversation' I had with my own father," Teague commented grimly.
Shrugging off his vague embarrassment, Jack continued. "So I were left on my onesies in London; a skinny street urchin with seafarin' ambitions an' four years worth of formal education. Plus a good chunk of coin Mum handed ta me upon leavin'- I had it set in my mind it was from her, not Da! I did make good on that last threat; never introduced meself as 'Teague' again.
"That left me with a bit of a dilemma. 'Jack Bharadwaj' was too foreign-sounding ta fit inta the society I intended to rise to. It was my preference to retain the avian theme, Mum havin' been so fond of feathered beasties. 'Jack Bird' was too short an' plain, though. I seriously considered 'Jack Falcon', 'Jack Raven' and 'Jack Gannet'. None o' them were quite right- I wanted something reminiscent of me Mum.
"'Sparrow' occurred to me only 'cause she'd liked those little blighters that'd resided in our townhouse garden. But the oftener I repeated it, the better it sounded. A sparrow's not a fancy or formidable bird, but it's a survivor. Knows how ta take advantage of opportunities, can get by almost anywhere, is nigh uncatchable. So..." Jack spread his hands with dramatic flare. "Is that a satisfactory explanation, Liege?"
Liz nodded, savoring another sweet mouthful. "Entirely satisfactory, Captain Sparrow. This account does have me wondering about something else, though. If you refused to sail with your father how did you end up going to sea?"
Jack slapped a palm to his forehead, pretending exasperation. "Another tale? Yer nigh insatiable, Lass!" But, after taking a stiff gulp of coffee, he launched into it.
"The original plan had been fer Mum's half-brother Matsendra ta find me a position aboard whatever ship he was servin', as soon as I'd turned thirteen. He'd driven it firmly into my head that if I was ta disembark so young, I should be accompanied by an older relative to afford protection from any ill-intended crewmembers. But Uncle Matt was lost at sea when I was eleven. Teague had invited me to crew aboard his Star of Madagascar- bein' the captain's son I'd be safe as I possibly could be. As mentioned, I'd refused on principle. Instead I took all the money Mum left me, and..." Jack's smile was almost whimsical. "I don't suppose you'd believe I bought my own small ship, crewed it with whelps me own age, an' spent the next several years sailin' the world in search of various legendary treasures?"
Liz tilted her head. "That's just the sort of story I loved when I was a child, but I don't think I'd buy it now."
"Ye may credit the last part at least. Hangin' around the London waterfront, I'd heard so many yarns about hidden gold I figured at least some of 'em must be true. The idea of findin' such a stash was most appealin'- that would afford me the financial wherewithal ta build a ship to my personal specifications. I'd make it bigger an' better even than me Da's!"
Teague looked up from his strumming, a challenging spark in his eye. "As if you ever had a chance of doing better than the Star!"
Jack seemed about to make a retort, but the Pirate King raised her hand. "Gentlemen, please! The Black Pearl and the Star of Madagascar are both exemplary vessels. I don't need to hear you exchange another barrage about their comparative merits."
The two men were giving each other such challenging glares Elizabeth had to stifle a most unpiratical urge to giggle. "So, like many an adventurous youngster, you wanted to try your hand at treasure hunting."
Jack resumed his story-tellers mode. "I did. As the Caribbean Islands seemed ta figure most prominently in these accounts, I decided that'd be the best place ta start looking. So I set sail on my Barnacle... or bought passage on a respectable transport vessel out o' London, if you prefer that version. Either way, that crossing was an intense learning experience. Everything I'd read about sailing, or was taught the fundamentals of by Uncle Matt, was translated into hands-on experience. I proved ta have a real knack fer it... born in the blood, as 'tis said. When I finally reached that storied New World archipelago, I fell in love at the first scent o' the palm trees. I've sailed much of the world since, but that's still the one region where I feel most at home."
"I had a similar response the first time I visited Madagascar," Teague commented, his touch soft on the guitar strings.
"And then you- Jack, I mean- set about searching for gold?"
"Aye. First thing I discovered is, it ain't a fast way ta get rich. There's far more rumors of shine than actual existing examples, an' many of the latter turn out ta be already found, or had their worth greatly exaggerated. Or they're untouched an' up to reputation, but the price fer getting at 'em is far too high. The 'Emeralds of Anubis Crag', fer one- so far as I'm concerned they can sit there until Judgment Day!
"Mind you, I don't consider those wasted years. 'Twas my first taste of real freedom, Liz! I visited so many places, encountered all manner of people. An' such grand luck I had- even certain of my mishaps had favorable results. Notably the time I went off course an' ran aground on a South Pacific island I'd had no idea was there. By great good fortune, the native people perceived me as an unthreatening whelp, worthy o' their succor an' sympathy. Once I'd managed to communicate my landing on theer shore was accidental, they took it on themselves ta give me lessons on their methods of navigation, bein' well aware that another such error could have dire consequences.
"I ended up stayin' with 'em fer over a year- long after I'd repaired my boat- learnin' everything they could teach me. Never got a better return fer my time 'cause no gold or silver could've done more fer me. It's bloody uncanny what those blokes can perceive jus' from studyin' wave patterns, or feelin' the tilt of their crafts, or watchin' the tiniest cloud on the horizon! Any European would swear they were usin' witchcraft. They ain't, though. Those islanders just have a whole 'nother way of payin' attention to their surroundings, Liz- of seein' and hearin' what it has to tell." Jack sighed nolstagically. "I'm not explaining this well at all. Suffice to say: what I took away was sufficient that, on no occasion since (discounting World's End) have I ever felt truly disoriented, on any ocean at any time of day, anywhere on the face of the Earth."
There was silence of a moment, broken only by Teague's subdued guitar notes and the lap of waves on the hull.
"But to conclude me tale..." Jack grinned broadly. "It were less 'en a year later- jus' a day shy of my eighteenth birthday- that I finally located a jewel cache as large an' valuable as I'd hoped for. So, I set off for the Belfast shipyards, ta have 'em..."
Elizabeth interrupted. "Wait a moment! Are you saying your scheme actually worked?"
Jack looked affronted. "I'd not've expected such a level of incredulousness from you, Elizabeth. You've seen the like fer yerself at Isla de Muerta. It's not like every treasure chest bears a curse."
Mrs. Turner looked to Teague for confirmation. The older man shrugged. "All I can tell you is, Jackie didn't get the funds to construct the Black Pearl from me."
"Or the Wicked Wench, as I first named her. I'd drawn up ship-building plans for fer years! 'Scaled her size down to a barque, having experienced the advantages of speed an' maneuverability. But I did lavish her with all the decorative embellishments I'd originally planned- a fine Lady should have ornaments ta match her rank. I had enough swag to pay fer round-the-clock builders, so only seven months later she was launched- the most beautiful vessel on all the seas!" Jack shot another challenging look towards his Da. Fortunately Teague seemed fully occupied with his fingering.
"That was one of my happiest moments ever, Liz. Settin' sail on me own splendid rig, finally commanding the means to become the legendary seafarer I was meant to be! I did start out slow- needed ta accumulate some reliable fundage since I'd (temporarily) had my fill of 'uncertain ventures'. So fer a while I opted fer routine jobs. I took commissions to haul cargo, earned a reputation fer doin' it ably, was soon workin' regularly fer the East India Trade Company..." Jack suddenly scowled, "...under the supervision of one Cutler Beckett. I don't need to describe how that course went awry."
Elizabeth nodded gravely. "With that brand on your arm, the lawless strata of seafaring was the only one still open to you. Your life had come full circle."
Teague glanced up at that. "You wanted freedom and the seas. It turned out, the price was the piracy you were born to."
"So it would seem." Sparrow's voice conveyed neither glee nor regret, just acknowledgment.
Liz finished another bite of nut-filled pastry. "I know the next few events in your saga. You struck a devil's bargain to raise your scorched-but-seaworthy ship, and renamed her to reflect the price you'd paid. You engaged in piracy for two years, culminating with a venture to find the treasure of Isla de Muerta. You survived a mutiny and a marooning, though not unscathed. But you've never told me much about what you did between then and the day you pulled me out of Port Royal Harbor."
"Insatiable, indeed." But the upbeat accompanying melody indicated Teague was more amused than anything else.
"That be too many tales fer one sittin', luv. Particularly in the absence of rum." Jack eyed his coffee cup discontentedly. "This stuff's fine fer hoistin' the eyelids first thing in the mornin', but the tongue prefers other lubricants."
"Could you at least tell when you next encountered your father?" Liz wheedled.
"You could just as well ask me." Apparently Teague was in a talkative mood. "It was about a year after the mutiny when my boy paid a visit to the Star..."
"'Visit'?" Jack interrupted indignantly. "You bloody kidnapped me!"
"Would you rather I hadn't?"
"Not really, seein' as I'd be dead otherwise. But yer procedure could've stood some refinement. That was one o' the worst scares of me life!"
"There wasn't time for negotiations, Jackie. I had to snake you on board and get underway before the Star was recognized."
Elizabeth, whose intrigued gaze had been bouncing between the two, managed to cut in. "Keeper, Captain; this sounds like a fascinating yarn, but could you be so good as to start at the beginning?"
"It happened in Lisbon. A, regrettable incident occurred." Jack dramatically clapped a palm against his upper right chest. Recalling the scars there, Liz's eyes widened a bit.
"That's when you got shot?"
"Twice, as ye may recall."
"I've always wondered how you survived that."
"If those bullets had gone straight in I probably wouldn't have. But they were fired from a low angle, by a blaggard hidin' under a bed. The details don't matter now," Sparrow insisted haughtily. "As I were an indigent in that fair city, I ended up bein' shoved into a hospice fer such. They provided me with a hard little bed plus an occasional swallow of gruel, an' left me to take me chances... to recover or die on me own. Hardly the finish I'd envisioned fer myself.
"I'd no inkling Da had been trackin' me fer some while, or that he'd recently got word about where I was laid up. Least of all did I suspect he'd send two uncommonly large an' ugly crewmen ta snatch me out of that place. So I'd no clue what was happenin' when I was jostled awake to find myself bein' hauled through the streets to a ship I didn't recognize- not from that angle- by a pair of ruffians I'd never seen. An' me too weak an' sore ta do a thing about it. Nasty explanations kept occurring ta me all the while they were settlin' me into a cabin bed an' gettin' the ship cast off. Not a pleasant way to pass the time!
"Finally my Da came in ta tell me I was aboard the Star of Madagascar. He promised I'd get proper care from the ship's physician, plus food fit fer human consumption, an' we'd talk when I were up to it." Jack thoughtfully fingered the scars through his shirt. "I don't deny that sawbones knew his business... what was the bounder's name?"
"Doctor Verbinski."
"That's the one. That git was cranky as an old walrus with toothache, an' some of his treatments hurt worse'en forced penance, but they got the wounds clean. After three days it were evident I was on the mend, for which I was profoundly gratified. 'Did worry a bit, though, about that impending discussion with Da. It seemed likely he'd be doin' plenty o' gloatin'. I'd boasted loud about how I'd win riches an' renown fer meself without fallin' ta thievery like him... an' instead I'd wound up a penniless vagabond with a pirate brand.
"But when our talk came, it weren't like that. He started out describin' how he'd first become a pirate- I'd never heard the full tale before. Turns out it hadn't been his first choice any more'en it'd been mine. He also revealed it were a sore regret ta him, to've left Mum an' me in tight straits fer so long. He'd gotten caught in Batavia whilst doin' rearguard duty fer some o' his mates. When he fell behind, they'd kept to the code."
"I couldn't have expected anything else of them." Teague was now playing a sorrowful folk ballad.
"Da said he hadn't tried to explain before 'cause when I was twelve I'd not have understood that life sometimes gives you choices that aren't simple, or pleasant. But he figured I'd comprehend that now." Jack glanced ruefully at his branded wrist. "I could hardly refute that."
Captain Turner nodded gravely. "So you two were reconciled."
"Not a hundred percent," Teague responded. "But we were back on speaking terms. Enough for Jack to ask if I'd buried his Mum ashore- if so, he wanted to visit the grave. I told him I hadn't, but she had received another commemoration." The two men shared a look which told Liz this was a matter best left between them.
Jack didn't seem comfortable with the subject either. "Da also repeated his invitation fer me to join his crew. I turned it down again, fer different reasons..."
Teague clarified. "Because being under your father's command would've made you feel like a small whelp again. Not a situation any adult wants to relive. Least of all one who's been ruler of their own vessel." All three pirate captains exchanged knowing looks. "Jackie made it clear he intended to regain his Black Pearl- that he could never regard any other ship as more than a temporary substitute for her. I could understand that too, having a similar attachment to my own fine lass." The Keeper reached to lay a unexpectedly tender hand on the Star's bulkhead. "But he did stay long enough to earn some swag from our next two raids. He wasn't hale enough to participate in the boardings, but did hold our wheel steady for 'em. That entitled him to a share.
"Our third prize, the Whimbrel, was a brig out of Dublin. Essentially sound, though in a sad state of upkeep. As was the crew. Showing the first symptoms of scurvy, they were. It seems they'd run short on citrus and the captain was keeping the remainder in reserve for himself and his officers." Teague struck an angry chord, eyes flashing. "Even a merchant captain should've known better than to treat his tars that way. This one paid the price; his deck crew put up no resistence at all. When we boarded, the first thing they did was inform us exactly where their captain was hiding. Second thing they did was offer me his position, in trade for any citrus fruits we could spare.
"I explained I wasn't in the market for a new command but had a fine navigator who was. They could have him, plus a crate of limes, in exchange for half their wool cargo and their most unworthy captain. That rotter demonstrated such a strong sense of entitlement, I deduced he was probably of a caste that would fetch a hefty ransom." Teague grinned wolfishly. "We struck an immediate accord."
Jack was also smirking. "The Whimbrel was no Pearl but she kept me mobile fer the next few years. Our first stop was Singapore, where I finally heard a full accounting of the Curse on me poor ship. I weren't sure I believed it, but that was when I started laying groundwork fer the plan which eventually restored my Lady to me."
"Don't forget you had some help from Will," Liz reminded.
"Aye. And yer fair self. An' the late lamented Mr. Norrington."
Teague nodded. "A fine adventure. One which set a few more events into motion." That was something else they could all agree on.
"As to yer probable next question, Liege: the next place Da and I crossed paths was Shipwreck Cove..."
Jack got no further before someone started pounding on the cabin door. It turned out to be one of the younger officers from the Empress. "A thousand pardons, but we have a situation in the play room..."
Elizabeth was already in motion. "Jack, Keeper; many thanks. I'd love to talk longer but you know how it is with kids!" The last was hurriedly called over her shoulder. Both men watched as the door slowly swing shut behind her.
Jack turned a bewildered look on his father. "What makes her think we'd know about that?"
"Parents frequently assume their position is understood. I've done that myself." Teague's tone was as close to apologetic as it ever got.
Jack waved briefly. "That's bilge out the scuppers, Da."
The Keeper regarded his son with uncharacteristic mildness. "Is it, Jackie?"
Sparrow fingered his chin braids as he considered this. His eye fell on the last few baklava slices, gleaming mischievously.
"I'll tell you what. You supply enough o' this delightful confection to treat me entire crew- with maybe a bit extra fer the captain's use- an' I'll consider us square."
"We have an accord, Captain Sparrow." Teague spoke solemnly, but his fingers played a lighthearted air.
xxx
FINIS
xxx
Credits:
"You wanted freedom and the seas. It turned out, the price was the piracy you were born to."
This line is a variation on one from peladonww's fanfic, 'Voyages of the Dawn Chaser.'
Jack learning navigational skills from the Polynesians is an idea borrowed from p0wdermonkey's 'Tall Ship Tales'.
I highly recommend both stories.
x
Historical Notes:
Jakarta, the capital city of Java (the Indonesian island, not the programming language), was called 'Batavia' whilst under Dutch occupation, from 1619 to 1942.
Consumption (aka tuberculosis) was once suspected to be caused, or at least aggravated, by inhaling the impure 'vapors' emitted by polluted rivers and lakes. It was observed that people living near such noxious waters frequently developed the deadly disease.
It's now known the illness is caused by a bacterium, which can spread readily in the impoverished conditions that tended to prevail in these undesirably odorous neighborhoods.