2. And so it continues
Disclaimer: I don't own POTC, it all belongs to Disney. Don't sue and enjoy.

"Oh just look at the poor little mites, Samuel. It really breaks my heart to see them all alone like this." A large woman bustles through the long corridor, her hands clasped to her rather voluptuous bosom. Her husband, a fragile looking man with thinning black hair and a very noticeable nose, trails after her: "Yes dear, very sad." He mumbles, keeping his eyes on the tiled floor before him.

The woman barely notices the man's presence and keeps on walking, a heavy scent of perfume wafting behind her. Lined up against the entire length of the corridor are small children. None of them older than 10 years, none of them very healthy and none of them certain about what the future will bring. Apart from beatings, chores and general unpleasantness. Nobody here is singing happy songs about tomorrow and how they love tomorrow. They feel that everything that is only a day away isn't worth loving. We'd much rather have something to love today, thank you very much.

The couple are in a serious conversation with the headmaster of the orphanage now, giving us the chance to examine one little boy a bit further. He's skinny, dirty and pale. His greasy, dark hair is too long and unkempt. But despite the meager conditions in which he lives, his eyes burn bright with intelligence. An intelligence which he's displaying every day in his little "schemes", as the headmaster likes to say. Coincidence has it that he is trying to convince his friends about a profitable little plan he has. Profitable for him, that is.

"No, seriously. I can make this work. All I need from you blokes is a very small portion of your supper. It'll lure it out for sure."
"Oh come on now Mark. You don't seriously expect us to believe that the boogeyman lives underneath your bed, do you? That's simply bullocks!" Ah yes, I suppose you've all guessed by now that the little boy with the plan is our very own Mark Heron. The boy talking back to him is known as Peter Twan. Peter has been a frequent victim… sorry… customer of Mark's, and he has learned to be more than just a little suspicious when Mark says "I can make this work".

Mark scowls at the older boy; "And how do you know for sure Petey? Do you have any proof that he doesn't exist?"
Peter smirks: "Of course not, dummy. How can I have proof of something that isn't even there?"
Mark raises his finger victoriously: "Ah! But I can proof that he does exist! And like I said before, all I need for that is just about one tenth of your supper rations tonight."

Unfortunately we will never know if his little plan will succeed, because the headmaster suddenly looms over their heads. "Master Heron, come this way. These nice people have decided to take you into their home."

The boy knows better than answering or questioning the headmaster, his ears are still ringing from the last witty remark he made yesterday. He simply nods and gathers what small belongings he has in a simple bag. Looking sad and downcast he slowly walks towards the big doors of the orphanage. He can't say goodbye to his friends, he isn't allowed to take more with him then two sets of clothes and one pair of shoes. But secretly tucked away in his pocket he keeps his only treasure: a small coin that was found on him when he was only a little baby.

Apparently this is something vital for all small orphan children everywhere; a little keepsake to torment them for the rest of their life, staring at random little trinkets and dreaming about their parents. Must be some universal rule somewhere. These rules are more common than you might think.

The couple is waiting for him inside a coach in front of the orphanage. The big lady is beaming with pride and joy, and she quickly ushers him inside the coach. The man appears to be enthralled by a small book and doesn't even look up to greet the boy.

Mark sits down opposite of the wealthy pair, staring around him in amazement. He has never seen so much luxury in his life, short as it may be. The woman chuckles heartily: "Now, now dear. Don't be rude. Introduce yourself to us."
The boy's mouth opens and closes a few times, but finally he manages to squeak: "Mark Heron ma'am"
"Well, Mark Heron, we're Mister and Mrs. Porter. And I hope you don't mind, but we wanted to save a little soul and take it into our home." Her eyes are glazing over a little, as if she's looking into a fantasy nobody else can see. It probably contains rainbows, unicorns and happy little boys skipping along.

Suddenly tears spring into the eyes of the little boy and he begins bawling uncontrollably. The shocked Mrs. Porter stares at Mark, not quite sure what to do next. Even Mister Porter puts his book aside, momentarily distracted by the upset child.
"What's wrong dear?" Mrs. Porter asks, awkwardly patting Mark on the head.
Still howling, constantly wiping his runny nose on his sleeve, Mark tries to tell what upsets him so much. Finally, after much soothing and soaked handkerchiefs the big problem finally comes out.
"Oh ma'am, I'm so sorry. You'll have to bring me back!"
"Back? But why?"
"You wanted to save a little soul, but the priest said that the souls of bad boys go to hell... and I've been a bad boy last week. You see, little Jason had this ball he found somewhere and we aren't supposed to have any toys that weren't really given to us and so I went and told the headmaster but he was mad at me because I was a snitch he said and then…"

Mrs. Porter begins to laugh and shakes her head "Oh, you poor little thing. Don't worry; your soul is still intact. And now we're off to our house, where we'll give you a proper education so you'll have a chance in life!" Mark blinks. He wasn't aware up till now that he didn't have a chance in life already. How could anyone NOT have a chance? You had the chance to fall down the stairs, to find a penny on the streets. Loads of chances.

He was soon to find out that Mrs. Porter is one of those people who like to see themselves as people who can make all the evil and bad things in the world magically disappear by waving their money.
It works, up to a point. Mrs. Porter herself certainly feels better after her good deed.

Little did she know that Mark was more then she could handle when he would grow up. And I'm not just talking about puberty.