Much more comfortable out of his Navy uniform, Jack wandered the streets of Charleston. He had never been to the Colonies before and they were very different from London. He was expecting them to appear more like London since there were people from London living there and they did trade with London. Even the largest city in the Colonies didn't seem like London. It was too small and far more behind society. The crew had a few hours to wander at free will and that was pleasing very much to him. He wanted a few chocolates anyway.
As he walked through the market, he couldn't help but notice the odd stares and glares at him. Did he do anything wrong? No, he hadn't done anything wrong. He was just walking through the market. However, he was used to glares and stares. He was as good as any other captain in the Navy and better than some of them. Everyone knew it. The only problem was that he was ten years old and too young to be captain of a ship. He was just ten, but a lieutenant nonetheless and a ten year old lieutenant was hardly heard of. William was seventeen and a sixteen year old lieutenant was very uncommon. But, the two of them were used to the comments and remarks and simply brushed them off like they had done all their lives.
A smile widened across Jacks face as he found the confectionary. He ran to the door then composed himself and walked inside.
"Good afternoon," he greeted to the man behind the counter.
He wandered around the shop looking into all the clear jars and reading the names of the chocolates and candies to himself. It was after a few moments that he realized he was being watched unusually closely. He took a step to the right and so did the man watching him. He walked to the other side of the establishment and so did the man. He reached out for a jar of lollipops and the man took it from him before he could take hold of it.
"I just wanted one," Jack told him.
"You shouldn't be in here to begin with," the man snapped.
"Why not?" Jack asked.
The man grabbed his arm rather roughly and stuck it close to Jack's face. "Do you notice something boy? Hm? Do you?"
"Aye, you're grabbing my arm and it hurts," Jack told him.
"It's what you deserve you filthy dirt."
"What did I do to you? I've never been here," Jack told him, pulling away.
"Let me try again," the man said. He placed the jar back on the shelf and pointed at his skin color. "What color is my skin?"
"White," replied Jack slowly, not understanding the meaning of this.
"What color is your skin?"
"Darker," replied Jack.
"Do you know what darker skinned people are in Charleston?" wondered the man.
"I told you, I've never been here before," reminded Jack.
"They are property and property cannot purchase items because only people purchase items. Seeing you are darker skinned than me you are property. And because you are property you cannot purchase items," Jack was told.
"But I have money," Jack told him, presenting a gold coin from his pocket.
"Probably stole that money you filth. Please, remove yourself from my establishment before I call the authorities!"
Jack walked out of the confectionary with a creased forehead and narrow eyes. All he wanted was a piece of candy. He had the money. In London he could buy a piece of chocolate or candy. And what did the man mean about the difference in skin color? He knew he had darker skin than everyone else he knew. That never mattered before. Why were people with darker skin property? Can people really be property? People aren't property. They are people. A person is a person.
Simply confused by it all, Jack sat on a small ridge overlooking the harbor. He his legs were crossed and his elbows were supporting his arms. His head was in the palm of his hand. This wasn't fun anymore. Everyone told him he would enjoy the Colonies. He didn't see any fun in it. He didn't do anything and he got yelled at by someone. Usually these things never bothered him, but he did know the man five minutes before he was yelled at and he even greeted him when he walked in. Charleston was no fun at all. He probably would have more fun on the ship anyway. The men liked to play with him. They at least liked him.
Jack stood and brushed himself off. He turned around and was face to face with a few men who were quite nicely dressed. One of them had a fine, slate coat. He motioned to the coat.
"I like your coat," he told him.
"I'm sure you do."
"Well, good day," Jack said as he walked forward until his path was blocked by them.
"Where do you think you're going?"
"Back to the ship," replied Jack.
"Not anymore."
Two hands grabbed his upper arms and squeezed. "Huh, he has a lot of muscle on his arms this one."
"And his skin is a peculiar color. He should be easily spotted if he tries to run."
"Not to mention his appearance is not like the rest of them."
"Let me go," Jack told them.
A hand reached into his coat pocket and produced the few gold coins William gave him to buy himself some candy.
"Where did you get these?"
"My friend gave them to me," Jack replied.
"I'm sure he did."
"Let me go," Jack told them again, struggling harder.
"He has good muscle indeed."
"There is an auction coming up."
"Take him."
"Take me where?" asked Jack, suddenly frightened. "Let me go! Please let me go!"
The ten year old was gagged and his hands bound and ankles bound. He was thrown over a shoulder and continued to struggle as he was hauled away. They laughed at him and told him it was no good, but he had to get away. What was happening to him? Why were they doing this? He felt himself fall and then his head hit something hard…
Jack awoke with a scream. The boiling hot water continued to burn on his face as it dripped from him. He immediately stood on his feet and tried to make a run for it, until he was grabbed by two men.
"A runner. Well, we'll just have to solve that now won't we?"
"Who are you? Where am I?" Jack asked. Heavy, impenetrable iron manacles were secured around his bare ankles. "What are you doing?"
"It is so you do not run."
"Where am I?" Jack asked again.
A sharp slap across his cheek caused him to cry out and fall to the ground. Frightened, he couldn't help the sobs that shook his body. Behind him, a door slammed and he whipped around. The door was a barred door. Around him were bars as well. He wasn't the only one crying he noticed. There were other children huddled in the corners of their cells crying and praying and screaming for their parents. They were all darker than him, but not by much. The entire hall that never seemed to end was filled with cells and children. He was in the middle of them.
Shaking, Jack curled his knees against his chest and wrapped his arms around them. He buried his face in his arms and cried aloud with the rest of them until he cried himself to sleep.
Loud screams awoke him the next morning. Each child, one by one, was dragged out of his or her cell and taken to the door to the right of him down the hall. It didn't take him long to realize once a person went through that door the person never came back. Slowly, the cells to his right were emptied as they approached him. He crawled to the left corner and burrowed himself into it as far as possible. Inside, he was screaming, but he was too afraid to let his scream out. Instead, when his cell was opened, his eyes simply grew wide.
He was grabbed by his hair and dragged across the floor. Too weak from lack of water and food he followed, but very unwillingly. When he did struggle, his hair was pulled tighter. He was thrown to the floor in that room. A man sat at a desk with papers in front of him. He appeared highly not amused and rather bored from having done this over and over.
The weight from his ankles suddenly released, Jack took a step toward the door before both arms were grabbed again and he felt his wrist was nearly broken.
He was stripped of his clothes and stood in the sunlight exposed to all of them.
"What are you doing?" he screamed.
"Examining you," replied one of the gentlemen.
Jack soon found himself being examined. They squeezed his arms and legs. They pulled his lips apart to examine his teeth. They prodded at him. They grabbed him. They poked him. They measured every length of him. They shoved needles into his body. They pulled at him. They cut off all his hair. They made him run in place for as long as he could. They made him hold his breath. They made him lift as heavy an object as he could. They tested if he could read and write. They clothed him with a piece of cloth that barely covered him so that "the others could see how strong he was for a child". They placed his ankles and wrists in shackles. They dragged him out a different door. They threw him in another cell.
Jack curled tightly against his body, terrified as to what they did to him. He laid in the dirt and grime, curled like a tight fetus in the womb crying.
"Shh, there, there it'll be okay. My name is James. It'll be over soon. Come here."
Not knowing who the man was and not caring, Jack slowly uncurled and crawled into the teenager's body. He was held and rocked.
"It's all right. The worst of it is over. I know, I know. Once you're sold tomorrow everything will be better," James said.
"Sold?" Jack asked, lifting his head.
James nodded. "Yes, we are slaves. Slaves are sold."
"I'm not a slave! I'm a sailor. I'm a lieutenant in the Royal Navy!" Jack screamed.
"Don't say such tall tales. They will punish you for lies like that," James snapped, but in a warning manner.
"But I am!" Jack told him. "My best friend, William Turner, he's a lieutenant too. We came here from London to deliver supplies. The ship is called Victoria. Victor Wheal is the captain. My name is Jack Sparrow."
"Not anymore," James told him. "We don't have proper names. We are slaves. Slaves don't have proper names."
"I'm not a slave," Jack tried reasoning.
"I'm afraid you are," said James.
"Why?" Jack pleaded.
"Because you are dark skinned and dark skinned folk are property," James told him.
"I'm not property! I'm not a slave!" Jack shrieked.
James pulled Jack's head into his chest to shut him up as one of the guards passed by the cell and eyed Jack. He silently hushed him. "Don't scream. They'll punish you for it. You have to stay quiet. I know you're scared. I was too my first time. It gets better I promise. Everything will be okay when you are settled. Okay. It'll be okay."
"I wanna go home. I wanna go home. I want my father," Jack sobbed, giving in.
Sighing, James wrapped his arms around the child. He shut his eyes and tucked Jack's head under his jaw. He hummed and rocked back and forth, holding the little boy tightly against his body as if Jack was his own child or brother. Protecting him, he did not let him go for anything. Even long after Jack cried himself to sleep again, he did not release the child from his arms. He had to protect him from what was to come. He knew Jack was going to be worked hard because of his strong body and young age. All he could pray for was the sleeping child in his arms to have an owner that gave him a job suitable for a child, but, in his heart, he knew Jack would be out there with the grown men picking and cutting and would be treated and punished like one of them.
Little Jack awoke the next morning to a scream of fright. He turned his head and watched as the cell doors were opened and the people inside dragged out. Not bearing to watch them come closer, he buried his face in James's chest.
"Don't say anything. Keep as calm as possible. Listen to them. Do as they say," James softly told him. "Stay calm, try not to cry, don't say anything, listen, and you will find someone good to keep watch of you."
Jack nodded his little head. He was scared to death and trembling, but he trusted James. Their cell door was opened and the two of them walked out. He made sure James stayed close to him, and James did. As he was led out, he noticed the people, white people in their fancy noble clothes pointing and observing him. Uncomfortable, he leaned closer into James and kept his head down. He didn't understand anything. There were other children near his age also shackled and barely clothed. He wasn't the only one who was frightened.
Each one of them was put in a line and he was forced away from James. Being dragged away from someone he trusted at the moment, he wanted to scream. The moment he thought about running back to him, James looked at him and pressed a finger to his lips as he shook his head. Right. Don't talk. Jack was stood in a line of other children. All of them were looking out with huge eyes and most of them were crying.
In the midst of it all, a smile widened across Jack's face as he suddenly realized something. William! Of course. William would find him. He had been gone for a day and William would make everyone go out and look for him. Besides, everyone said they loved his company, There was probably mass hysteria on the ship because he wasn't there. It was Charleston and from the looks of it, this was a busy place in Charleston. People were lined up and crowded around them. William had to be in one of them. He just had to be.
But, as time went on, little Jack began to see something. The men were screaming and yelling at the other men and shouting out numbers. The numbers were getting higher and higher each scream. It was an auction. He remembered seeing an auction of carpentry in London. The more valuable an object was the higher the price was. Wait a moment. He looked at the people around him. They were the objects worth the great value. He wasn't an object. He was a human being. William wasn't anywhere.
All he saw surrounding him were faces of greed and delight. They looked like starving wolves ready to hunt and kill. They looked hungry for something. A lot of them were pointing at him and looking at him with question and desire. He slowly lowered his head into his body and twiddled his thumbs. He was going to get out of this. He always got out of a lot of things. This was going to be one of them.
James. No! James was being led away. He turned and looked back at him with a smile and a nod. Where were they taking him? This wasn't fair. He was only a teenager. He was a good person.
More time went on and more people were surrounding them. Once the word "sold!" rang through the crowd, a man dressed in pristine clothes came up and dragged the dark African away. Once he saw them being led through the crowd, he never saw them again. There were times the women and children pleaded on their knees and begged. He understood that it was a family being torn apart. Even though he had no family, he wasn't going to be torn apart from William. He would be saved. Nothing was going to happen to him, but the people looked at him hungry and coldly. Why were they looking at him like that? Where was William? He just had to come save him. He wasn't an African. His skin wasn't that dark. Why was this happening?
NO! Now, it was his arm being dragged. He didn't want to go up there. He wasn't a slave; he was a sailor. No, he wasn't going to stand on that box like some piece of wood. He felt himself being lifted into the air and set on the box. His mouth opened agape and forehead wrinkled and eyes filled with tears. There were so many of them. The people went on and on and on. He couldn't count that high. Everywhere he turned he only saw heads.
"Twenty five!"
Twenty five? What was that supposed to mean. He wasn't worth twenty five. He wasn't worth anything at all.
"Thirty eight!"
"Fifty seven!"
"Sixty two!"
The numbers. They were using those numbers to bid on him. There was no William around. William wasn't coming. No one was. He was going to be a slave. He was never going to see his father or best friend again. He once asked William what it meant to be a slave and he was told that it meant being forced to do whatever the master wanted and the master always got his way. How did he always get his way? What was happening? Why was this happening.
"Seventy!"
That wasn't good. That was the price where the men were sold and no children were that high priced just yet. He was a child. He was only ten years old. So that's what they meant when they said they wanted everyone to see how strong he was for a child. They were going to work him hard because he had muscle. There was no getting out of this.
"One hundred pounds!"
Jack shut his eyes as he felt the tears rolling down his cheeks. Only two had sold for that high. One was a young teenage girl and the other was a grown man who bore a lot of muscle. No one was saying anything. They all had their heads turned to the right. Jack didn't want to look that direction. One hundred pounds was a lot of money and he was smart enough to know that someone really, really, really wanted him for a reason and he knew that reason wasn't good. He was going to die a slave when he was born a sailor. There was nothing he could do.
"Sold!"
His arm was pulled and he didn't fight. All he could do was cry. He wanted his father. All he wanted to do was tell his father goodbye. He was never going to see anyone again.
"Jack!"
Could it be? No.
"Jack!"
Jack Sparrow lifted his head. The second the shackles were removed from his ankles, he ran as quickly as he could to William.
Seventeen year old William Turner knelt to a knee to pull Jack into his arms. He was most likely squeezing Jack, but he knew Jack didn't care. The poor child was trembling in his arms and he felt the tears against his neck. Only for a moment did he release Jack from his arms to wrap his coat around him. After, he set one arm under Jack's knees and the other around his back and hoisted him into the air.
Jack's arms did not release from his neck. They stayed tight, as did his face to his best friend's tunic. He felt sick to his stomach and he couldn't stop crying or trembling. He still didn't understand what just happened. All he understood was that he was about to be sold and he was sold. His best friend bought him to save his life. That was a lot of money. Even though he was noble, that was still a lot of money to spend. The fact of it was that his best friend had to buy him to save his life. He wanted to forget this day. This never happened. He would forever tell himself this never happened.
"Do you have him?"
"Yes and he's sleeping."
Beginning to wake, Jack heard those voices and felt himself being moved from one set of arms to the other. There was something about the second set of arms that was more comfortable than William's. William was like his father and he practically was his older brother. These arms were firm, yet gentle and there was something fatherly about them more than William's arms. The person holding him sat down and began rocking back and forth, gently humming and squeezing.
"You're squishing me," Jack softly said sleepily.
"I'm sorry Jackie."
"Athair?" wondered Jack, lifting his head from the man's chest to see his face.
Edward Teague smiled down at his son. The tears in his eyes slowly fell from his cheeks. The last time they saw each other was two years ago when he left Jack to give him a better life. He left Jack with a high noble family for a reason and the reason completely backfired on him. The last thing he wanted was to see Jack in a slave market and here he was, nearly sold a slave. He wasn't there watching it happen. He couldn't watch it happen.
Of all days, it had to be that day when he decided to visit an old friend and William came running on the ship before he set foot off with the words "Jack's being sold in the slave market today." He never, never would tell Jack he provided William with the money to buy him before someone else could. He didn't want to know how much Jack was worth. Not one item of food passed through his stomach that day and every other hour he spent vomiting his insides into the bucket. He couldn't recall the last time his nerves felt like that. Every time he heard someone or something that sounded like someone walking on deck, he held his breath and ran for the doors.
Jack was so beautiful. He had grown up so much in the past two years and looked more and more like his mother every day, yet there was quite and amount of his father in him too.
"Here," William said softly, presenting a small tunic and breeches. "I'll let you two be."
Edward nodded his head as he took the clothes from William. He unwrapped his little boy from the blanket and felt he was going to be sick again seeing how little Jack was clothed and if clothed was even the right word of choice to use. The tunic was slipped on his arms and buttoned and the trousers were slipped up his legs and buttoned. Knowing it comforted him more, Edward wrapped the blanket around his body again, keeping him tight and close to his body.
"Are you better?" he asked.
Jack shook his head. "I want to be with you. I don't want you to leave me again. Why did you leave me?"
"I had to. I can't raise you Jack. It's not in my blood to be a father. William is a much better father than I am, and I hear he and the twins are close. You have a better life with them," replied Edward.
"But you're my Athair, not Billy or Alex or Lottie or Gabe. I need you," said Jack, nuzzling his face in his father's chest.
"I have to let you go Jackie. You know this," Edward told him. "I let you go once for a reason and that reason was what happened today. If you and I are together, what happened today will happen again. That I guarantee."
"Not if we don't come back here to Charleston. I'm never coming back here ever. I don't care if I have to choose between dying and coming here I'll never come back," said Jack. "Never, never, never."
"Well, as you could imagine, I held and rocked Jack until he fell asleep in my arms then gave him back to Bill. I left him again and returned to Madagascar. This is the first time in twenty eight years that Jack has been here. He avoided Charleston and the Colonies altogether for twenty eight years. What happened to him long ago changed him forever. If he has the slightest speculation that a place is white man dominated, he'll avoid it or send someone for him to get what he requires. He kept away from it for as long as possible and then one day he was given a crew of slaves to deliver and you know the rest of the story," Edward finished.
Anamaria was not looking at him. She was curled against the arm of the sofa with her knees hugged tightly into her chest. Her head was in her palm that was resting on the arm of the sofa. The other hand was wiping the tears from her face. Acknowledging that she understood him, she nodded gently.
"Ana," said Edward, moving from the chair to the sofa. "What brought this question up?"
"Jack's here," replied Anamaria.
"I know," said Edward.
"That man Lily called Jack-Jack, is Jack. Jack cut his hair and pulled it apart and took away everything. He went back to his old life of working for someone else just to get close to me, to Lily. He wants Lily. He knows exactly who that little girl is and I know she knows it's her father," said Anamaria.
"Couldn't have been. He's not Jack without looking like Jack. It didn't look anything like him," noted Edward. He turned his head and lowered his eyes as he thought back to a few hours ago. "It was the right hair and skin color. He was the right height." His eyes turned to Anamaria twice as wide as they were before. "His wrist. Has he always had that cloth wrapped around his right wrist that covered the brand and tattoo?"
"It was there since he walked into the tavern," said Anamaria.
"It is Jack," said Edward to himself. He shook his head. "I think it's time Jack and I had a little talk. He's grown up. He's facing his past and letting go by returning here. Coming back here for you and Lily proves enough to me that he's ready to be a father. He's changed."
"If he's changed so much then why do I still not trust him with her?" Anamaria asked him frustrated.
"You're afraid of love. He hurt you once and it broke your heart. You're afraid he'll do the same thing to Lily or you again. What you need to do is give him a chance. Perhaps not you personally give him a chance. Let Lily have time with him—"
"If I can't trust him with Lily when I'm around then I'm certainly not trusting him with her alone!" Anamaria told him.
Edward stood and rolled his eyes. He grabbed his guitar. "Anamaria, you think about what I just told you and then you tell me what city Jack Sparrow is in. I'm going to bed now because I'm tired and I've had a long day."
Anamaria nodded as she set her head in her palm again. She looked at the dying fire letting Edward's words sink into her head. Jack was here when he was ten years old and he was nearly bought. That seemed a bit farfetched from Jack Sparrow though. Even as a ten year old he must have been smart. Knowing Jack, he probably owed someone money so he avoided Charleston. She knew Jack hated the Colonies anyway; there were too many politics involved not to mention far too many taxes and he wasn't a resident.
Thoughtful, she went to the kitchen to bake a rum cake like she always did while thinking. Yes, it was quite late at night, but she wasn't tired and she needed to do something to make herself tired. Edward enjoyed her rum cakes very much so she knew he would be pleased to discover a fresh cake in the morning.
Jack Sparrow nearly a slave. She shook her head at that thought. Jack's skin wasn't that dark really. He was a little darker than a tanned sailor but not as dark as she had seen. The entire Teague family liked to tell stories and over exaggerate to make a grander tale; it was a simple Teague trait. Even Edward enjoyed telling the tale more than it was.
Tipping the rum bottle in the cake mix, she suddenly set it back on the table. Edward would not make up a tale that he provided money to buy Jack. No father would talk of purchasing his own son. She saw the look of pain and wonder on his face when she asked him.
And Joshamee Gibbs. He was not a man easily upset by something. The anger and frustration in his voice as he hinted toward Jack's near enslavement was fair and true.
Why would Jack be so afraid? Nearly a slave meant he was nearly a slave and nearly meant he wasn't there. She was the one that had to sit in the barracks of the ship in filth and waste shackled to a row of slaves. He just sat in a cell with someone who was looking after him and only his ankles were shackled.
Jack was sitting in a cell shackled. That would explain his discomfort with shackles. When they were together, Jack did avoid the Colonies like the plague had struck. He turned no sailor down. The ports they did travel to were free ports. Come to think of it, any white skinned dominated city he stayed far from.
She always wondered why he gave up everything for the slaves year ago. He gave up his life to free all of them. She did notice that every day the slaves were enslaved he walked up and down the decks looking at them until one day joining. It was more than curiosity. Perhaps he was trying to imagine himself that he was a slave like he nearly was. 'Nearly' was a strong world. 'Nearly' was close to is and 'is' is what a person is.
Jack never liked working for someone and if things did not go his way, he always got quiet and thoughtful. She knew him enough to know that when he was quiet and kept to himself, something deeply disturbed him. Charleston was where he was nearly made a slave.
He changed his appearance and removed everything of the person who was not the slave. He was working for another man on his own free will. He was in Charleston.
Edward Teague was shaken awake from a deep sleep. Seeing it was Anamaria and the tears on her face, he immediately sat up believing something was wrong with Lily. He turned the oil lamp beside his bed to full flames.
"What is it?" he quickly asked.
"Jack's in Charleston," Anamaria replied so softly he barely heard her.
Opening an arm for her, Edward pulled her tightly into his body allowing her to sob into his chest. "I know and this time I'm not leaving him until he has."
"I don't know what to do," Anamaria told him.
"All I can tell you is to listen to your heart. It may hurt more than you think, but it will answer your question," replied Edward.
Anamaria nodded again. A surge of tears and emotion coming over her again, she pressed both palms against her face. Jack was living his fear for her and Lily and she was treating him horribly. She realized she needed forgiveness, not Jack.
Will he forgive me? Can he forgive me?
A note from TurtleHeart: well, that answers a question of Jack Sparrow's dark past and more questions are to be solved soon...
happy readings!
