'Pirates of the Caribbean' belongs to Disney
xxx
The mounted narwhal tusk was a familiar object. James had first seen it in the den of Jack's Caribbean bungalow, hanging amidst a hodgepodge of other souvenirs. He much preferred the way it was displayed on Jack's Capri bedroom wall, accompanied only by a sheathed katana and a hand-woven African shawl. With no shinier clutter tugging the eye, a viewer could properly appreciate the understated beauty of this tapered ivory column, nearly a yard long, clamped in a simple brass hanging bracket.
"I'm sure Lysee will be delighted to get this. She's liked it since she was old enough to talk. Remember how she used to call it 'Cousin Jack's unicorn horn'?" Norrington smiled, recalling that long-gone toddler. He could hardly believe his little girl was about to turn twelve...
It took several seconds for him to notice Sparrow's alarming body language: shoulders shifting, feet scuffing the carpet. Obviously bracing to confess something.
Norrington braced himself in turn. "What's the matter?"
"Nothing's 'the matter', in the sense o' something bein' amiss, which is to say, potentially hurtful or damagin'."
"Then what has got you squirming?"
"I'm not squirmin'! Jus' need ta make a slight correction in yer understandably inaccurate perception."
James faced him squarely. "Give it to me fast."
"Well, as it happens, in actual strict accordance with the known facts..."
"WHAT?"
"... Lysee was correct."
Norrington gave Jack a very hard stare. To his disconcertment, the smaller man was sporting that innocently earnest look which generally meant he was speaking truthfully.
"Sparrow, you can't mean... surely you don't expect me to believe...!"
"Didn't have specific expectations in regards ta yer believin' it or not, James. Jus' thought I should let you know."
James controlled his rising urge to sputter. "This is too far-fetched to credit!"
The guileless brown eyes didn't waver. "Any more far-fetched than the actuality of the Flying Dutchman? Or of time-travelers?"
Oh, he would point that out! James' inner self flung up exasperated hands. Seemed like whenever he started to get a reassuring sense of where reality's boundaries actually were, a certain bothersome pirate would knock them askew again.
"You, Jack Sparrow, libertine extraordinaire, acquired this from a unicorn."
"Aye. But the particulars of my personality had naught ta do with it- I didn't say the beastie came ta me. 'Twas a chance meeting, 'least so far as I could tell. I do appear ta cross paths with more 'en my share of eldritch beings- which may not be entirely due ta happenstance- but that's a separate issue. So, did you want to hear the particulars?"
"As if I have any choice," Norrington grumbled. "It's like living with Commander McBragg."
"James! I'd no notion you were familiar with vintage cartoons!"
"I know about that one. Lysee has some eps on DVD- I could hardly help noticing the resemblance."
"Interesting you should say that. The good Commander was supposedly based on renowned tall-tale-teller Baron von Münchhausen, who weren't far removed from my Da's family tree..."
"Stop right there, Sparrow!" James' hand wave was almost frantic. "One lunacy at a time is all I can handle! Just tell me about this unicorn."
"As you wish!" Jack sat on the bed, crossing his legs in a satisfied manner. Norrington leaned back against the window frame.
"It took place during the nineteen eighties, when I was attending to a spot of business in Freiburg. That's in southwest Germany- also locale of the legendary Black Forest. Being in the near vicinity, with some spare time on me hands, I thought I'd give it a gander. So I went out early one morn ta hike one of the public trails. I stepped off it ta answer a call of nature. Having finished with that, I strayed a bit further jus' ta discover if the scenery away from the path looked any different..."
"Also to extraneously flout the park rules. I know you, Sparrow."
"It's not like this was apt ta do any harm," Jack shrugged. "'Twas then that I happened to notice somethin' unexpectedly pale, on the further side of a low-growth thicket. I worked my way around ta get a proper look an'... well, there she was. No mistakin' the species ID with that head embellishment!"
"This was a female?"
"Aye. A very old mare, lookin' like a marble sculpture settled into a moss bed. The poor beast conveyed to me, she was in her final hours of life an' preferred ta spend 'em undisturbed..."
"This animal talked to you."
"Not in the conventional way. Unicorns have at least human-level intelligence an' understanding of language but lack the vocal apparatus ta form spoken words. So when they're inclined ta communicate with us they do it mind-to-mind. Rather startling on first experience, though easy to get accustomed to."
This was obviously going to take a while. James joined Sparrow on the edge of the bed as Jack continued.
"As I've previously related, I acquired a certain regard fer all things equine during my gaucho years. So, bein' sympathetic to the critter's situation, I took measures ta acquiesce to her request..."
x
Jack picked his way between the remembered pine trunks, back to the brushy thicket's edge. Though he half expected the phantasmic creature to be gone, he soon spotted that distant whiteness, which once again guided him to the mossy patch and it's gracefully reclining occupant. As before, the full sight of her stole his breath.
The radiant form resembled a slender pony more than anything else, though he'd never mistake one for the other. The head was smaller and more tapered, the neck slim as a deer's, and the delicate mother-of-pearl hooves were cloven. Her tail was unlike any other he'd seen; the higher part was close-haired while the lower sprouted long curling tendrils, silken-white as milkweed down. Whoever'd sketched the designs for the Unicorn Tapestries got it pretty near right- that artist must've actually seen one of these beasties. But no weaving could've hoped to do justice to the horn; an elegant fluted spiral, long as his arm, glowing vaguely against the forest-green moss.
The depthless eyes- vivid blue as those of a siamese cat, but far wiser than any feline's- were already fixed on him. Jack halted a few feet away, addressing the animal courteously.
"'Tis done, lass. I borrowed a couple 'Geschlossen Für Reparatur' signs from the park shed an' placed 'em at either end of the trail, so nobody else'll be happenin' this way today. 'Also fetched you a bit of water."
He removed his brimmed walking hat, knelt to place it within her reach and emptied one of his canteens into it. The delicate muzzle dipped and drank, not in the manner of a horse so much as a well-bred lady sipping a glass of wine. When the hat was empty the creature politely nosed it back towards Sparrow. That queenly gaze- ancient, though not truly aged- met his again.
/ Will you remain with me now? /
Jack had already gotten used to that crystal-chime voice speaking directly inside his brain. The words were a request, not a plea; begging was diametrically opposed to this creature's nature. Having made her wish known, she would simply accept his answer either way.
The ex-pirate considered. He did have plans... but nothing that couldn't wait. Spending time in the presence a unicorn wasn't an experience to be had every day, or every lifetime. Furthermore, he felt a certain empathy with this being- he could see she'd lived a very long while. The equine body, though mesmerizingly beautiful, displayed classic signs of age; the ribs and pelvic bones protruded more than was ideal, the coat and wavy mane lacked a certain luster, the head was frankly drooping. Thankfully, the beast didn't seem to be in pain or discomfort. She was just fatally tired... dying simply because she'd had her fill of living.
Which, given enough time, might also possibly happen to him someday. If it ever did, he also might be glad for a bit of friendly companionship. So Sparrow arranged his jacket at the base of a birch truck a meter from the animal's shoulder, and sat there. "How's this?"
/ That will be quite acceptable. /
The unicorn let her head sink into the moss, emitting a peaceful sigh. Like a woman easing into bed at the close of a long day. Jack extended a tentative hand towards the smooth neck; she negated the offer with a slight head movement. The animal preferred not to be touched, she just wanted to have someone nearby.
Sparrow retracted his hand and settled back against the smooth bark, crossing arms over his knees to wait. This might be a melancholy vigil, but it shouldn't be a tedious one. He could let his eyes wander over that sculpted form for hours. So lovely, even it's final decline.
A blackbird sang overhead- to Jack's ear, more mournfully than usual. Even the nearer plants seemed to be bending forward a bit, as though with sad expectancy...
/ Would you perform one more courtesy for me? /
Sparrow started to alertness. Reflexively he checked the angle of the tree-filtered sunbeams- close to noon! Did time move at a different pace in the vicinity of unicorns?
"I might, lass. Depends on what's wanted."
/ At the moment of my passing, my horn shall detach itself and fall- it can not remain affixed to a dead carcass. I would request that you remove it from this site. /
Jack understood at once. "So's anyone findin' your bones'll think it's just the remains of an ordinary ungulate. Aye, luv; I'll do that fer you." He was already calculating how much he could get for such an item on the black market. He'd have to pass it off as a mere narwhal tusk, but those commanded a hefty price from collectors. Her horn certainly bore similarity to... in fact, looked exactly like...
/ That is no coincidence. /
"Eh?"
/ It is by our doing, via a process comparable to your 'genetic engineering', that narwhals have identical tusks. We did this long ago, so that any human gifted with a unicorn horn would have a ready explanation for it. / The mental voice conveyed amusement. / Did you never consider it improbable for a whale to have such an appendage? /
"I never gave that matter much thought, lass. 'Tis not like narwhals are the oddest-looking things in the sea. Did you ever see a vampire squid? Or a leafy sea dragon, or cuttlefish in courtship mode?"
The unicorn's laugh tickled his cortex like tiny feathers. / That's why our strategy worked. /
"Seems it did. So, unicorns constitute yet another society of beings strivin' ta keep theer existence secret. Even Hamlet never suspected how many of those inhabit heaven and earth," Jack mused. "I hope you've no objections to my makin' a bit of shine from my contribution to this effort?"
The pale body stirred, the sapphire orbs meeting his squarely. / I have already ceded possession of my horn to you. You may dispose of it however you wish. But know this: if you exchange it for money, you will squander it's most valuable potential. That will be achieved only if you give it, free of charge, to the right person. /
Jack's mustache twitched. Giving things away- particularly items with a high resell value- was rarely his first impulse. But he was curious about this 'valuable potential'. "An' who might the appropriate recipient be?"
/ A young girl just coming into her womanhood. /
That sounded familiar. "So it's true that yer kind has special liking fer maidenly types."
The unicorn laughed again, to Sparrow's enjoyment. / Yes. That part of the legend is accurate. /
"Fer any particular reason?"
/ It has to do with mutually-reinforcing life-energies. You can perceive a shadow of it in the affinity so many young women have for horses. /
"Aye, I've noted such."
/ It is through the fluting of our horns that the beneficial energies are gathered, and through which they can rebound. None more so than a horn from such as I, who has lived a full span of years and died peacefully. A maiden in possession of it shall incur one of several blessings, depending on her nature. If she has any infirmity, physical or mental, she shall be healed of it, and acquire ability to aid those similarly afflicted. /
Jack spared a regretful thought for his poor Dikeledi, now far beyond the reach of any such succor. "What if she's a healthy lass?"
/ If she is family oriented, she will attract a worthy husband- a good provider who shall never stray or abuse her- and all her children shall be born sound and strong. If she has an adventurous spirit, she will arrive safely from every journey- even her worst mishaps shall leave no serious scars on her flesh or mind. If she is business-minded, her judgment will be sharpened so she will never make a truly bad investment, nor be fooled by even the cleverest swindler. But these benefits will be bestowed only if you present the horn freely, out of regard for the girl's welfare. / This last included a slight rebuke, as though the beast could see the dollar signs dancing in Jack's head.
Sparrow frowned as said dollar signs popped. "An' what's the profit fer me?"
/ The gratification of knowing you have bestowed a matchless gift on a youngster you care about. /
"I was afraid of that. Thing is, luv, my lifestyle is such that I rarely have occasion ta make the acquaintanceship of chits in that age bracket, an' even less occasion ta hang around long enough ta develop much attachment to 'em." He hesitated before making an admission he'd almost never made before. "Furthermore, I'm not able to sire any of me own."
The azure gaze was unperturbed. / You still have very many years ahead of you. Your life situation could change, in ways you cannot now imagine. It may take decades, or centuries, but you will find the right maiden. When you do you will have no doubts about it. /
Sparrow just pursed his lips. It had been his experience that eldritch beings were best not argued with.
The animal sighed again, sagging deeper into the moss. / There is no cause to hurry- my horn's potential will not diminish over the years. Knowing it shall someday be fulfilled will lighten my heart, as you would say, through these last few hours. /
The ex-pirate turned his face, least his annoyance show. Why did so many people- even bloody animals, now- have to appeal to his honest streak in the least-opportune situations?
Schooling his expression, Jack faced the creature again. "Lass, I can't swear ta do as you wish, for it may happen I'll be in dire need of financial resources prior to locatin' this theoretical chit. But I will give it a try."
/ That is all I can ask. / The vivid eyes slowly closed- it seemed this exchange had drained the last of her energy. / Please stay by me, now. For just a little while longer. /
"I will definitely do that fer you, beastie."
So Jack remained by the old unicorn's side as the afternoon hours passed. She did not speak again, nor make any further movement, other than the slight rise and fall of her ribs.
Sparrow nibbled on trail mix, sipped from his smaller canteen, and pondered this extraordinary claim. If unicorn horns really possessed such powers, he wondered whether Elizabeth Swann might have been presented with one during her pubescent years. He'd never heard her mention such a thing... but of course he'd never thought to ask. Such a gift would explain how the wench'd gotten past so many hazardous shoals and reefs (himself not the least formidable) with just a few scrapes to her hull. She'd even managed to keep her maidenly 'treasure' intact, to present to the whelp on their wedding night. Nothing much short of supernatural intervention could account for that!
In fact, the longer he thought on it, the more probable this explanation seemed. Obviously if he did give this charmed object away he'd have to be inordinately careful choosing a recipient.
As afternoon lapsed into dusk the pristine form seeming to fade, like a gradually dimming light. It was half an hour 'til sunset when the unicorn emitted a last easy exhalation and became completely still. The seashell spire's inner glow went off as it toppled, soft as a dropped flower. It rolled a couple meters away, coming to rest against a fern clump.
The blackbird sang a few more poignant notes, then flapped off into the trees. Jack pressed his hat to his chest, murmuring a few long-ago words his Mum had taught him.
Though the animal hadn't requested any burial, Sparrow didn't feel right leaving that beautiful form to the flies. He arose- surprisingly unstiff- and set about covering her with leaves and other clean debris from the forest floor. He completed the job just as the sun touched the half-hidden horizon.
Only then did he retrieve the horn, examining it closely in the last light of day. It felt warm as ivory, smooth as the inner spiral of a volute shell... somehow conveying the impression of being asleep rather than lifeless. Possibly the late owner's words were coloring his perception- but maybe not. Sparrow resolved then and there: whether for love or money, he'd not part with this object casually.
Jack carefully wrapped his jacket around the delicate-looking spire, tucking the bundle close against his side. He gave the mound a last respectful bow, then started making his way around the thicket, never glancing back- not wanting to see the absence of that glowing beacon. Soon he reached the pines, and from there made his way to the trail, hurrying through the darkening forest to the parking lot...
x
"... an' as you can see, I did retain possession. The late beastie's already been vindicated on one point: theer's no doubt I've found the right maiden. Lysander Anne Norrington's the one chit I'd most like ta see comin' through every storm with her sails unshredded."
"That would be the benefit, since she undoubtedly qualifies as the adventurous type." Norrington's tone and expression were thoughtful. "Well, Jack, whether it works or not I appreciate your making this gesture on behalf of my daughter. It's rather... Don't take this the wrong way, but it seems uncharacteristically altruistic of you to refrain from selling a valuable object so someone else can possibly reap the rewards."
"I'm mildly astounded myself. 'Guess I'm overridingly curious ta discover whether it'll do what the critter said."
James grinned. "You'll soon get a chance to find out. I'll be pleased for you to give this to Lysee at the party tomorrow. But with one stipulation: please don't inform her about it's alleged protective properties. At least not anytime soon. She might be tempted to test the limits and we've both read enough Shakespeare know what can come of that."
"Aye. 'MacDuff was from his mother's womb/ Untimely ripp'd.' I won't breath a word." Sparrow's dead-somber tone reminded Norrington that, whatever his other shortcomings, the ex-pirate was not prone to taking chances with Lysander's welfare. "How about her Mum?"
"Maybe you should let me choose the time and place to inform Meredith. Though, in her case I doubt it'll make any difference."
"Of course not. No umbrella's going to discourage a hen from gathering her chicks beneath her when the rain begins."
"True. Just don't put it that way around Mare. She doesn't mind being compared with a horse- a chicken's another matter." James stood and stretched a bit. "Thank you for this consultation. And now, I do have a few other things to do today."
Norrington gave the horn a last bemused glance as he left the room. Jack moved to his bedroom window, where he bestowed a wry grin on the view of land and sea.
"Better brace yerself, luv. 'Could be theer's another Lizzie on her way!"
xxx
FINIS
xxx
'Geschlossen Für Reparatur' - 'Closed For Repair'
x
Commander McBragg is a 1960s cartoon character; a short, bald, self-aggrandizing old windbag, prone to relating obviously impossible stories about his daring international exploits.
"He can do anything, / In his world he's a king! / Or so says the brag of McBragg!"
As mentioned, McBragg was probably inspired by the real-life German soldier and adventurer Freiherr Hieronymous von Münchhausen, aka Baron Munchausen (1720 - 1797), who possessed a notable talent for tall tales. An embellished collection of his yarns, 'The Surprising Adventures of Baron Munchhausen', was first published in English in 1785. Terry Gilliam adapted this into the 1988 film, 'The Adventures of Baron Munchausen', starring John Neville.
x
"MacDuff was from his mother's womb/ Untimely ripp'd" is from Shakespeare's tragedy Macbeth. Spoilers ahead:
The titular character had been assured by three evil witches that "None of woman born shall harm Macbeth", prompting the ambitious nobleman to pursue a murderous rise to the kingship of Scotland. But this course runs aground when he encounters the wronged and vengeful MacDuff, who reveals he was born via a cesarian-section. Macbeth angrily declares, "Be these juggling fiends no more believed, / That palter with us in a double sense; / That keep the word of promise to our ear / And break it to our hope!"
Shortly afterwards, MacDuff lops his head off.
Beware of those supernatural loopholes!