CHAPTER 4...Ruby
EIGHT YEARS LATER
I sat on the docks, feeling the ocean breeze whip my hair away from my face. I loved to come down to the docks in my free time, when I wasn't making swords with Mr. Brown and my brother, Will Turner.
Upon thinking about my brother, I realized that it was about time to head back to the shop. Will had gone up to Governor Swann's house to give him the sword for James Norrington, who would become Commodore today. In my opinion, that sword was the finest we had created yet, a true beauty.
I pulled myself up and began walking back towards the shop when a ship caught my eye. It wasn't a ship, more like a boat, but ship, boat, who cares. The point was that this boat was sinking. Fast. I saw the only man on the boat, a tall, tan man with his dark black hair in dreadlocks and a bunch of trinkets hanging in his hair. A tri point hat sat on his head, and a red bandana stuck out from under the hat. His beard was braided into two, and he had a mustache. I though he looked very amusing, compared to the other sailors on the dock. As he passes the arch of rock where three pirate skeletons hung, along with a sigh saying "Pirates, Ye Be Warned" he took off his hat, placed it on his heart, and saluted the long-deceased pirates.
As he neared the dock, the boat sunk to the point that only the tip of the mast was above the water. Calmly, the man stepped of the boat and onto the dock, only to be stormed to by the harbormaster.
"What...hey! Hold up there, you. It's a shilling to tie up your boat at the dock. And I shall need to know your name."
The man smiled, revealing a few golden teeth, and answered, "What d'ye say to three shillings, and we forget the name?"
Taking the three shillings, he nodded happily. "Welcome to Port Royal, Mr. Smith."
I rolled my eyes. Stupid harbormaster, being bribed by people like...well, like that guy right there. Peculiar man, I thought. I took back my thoughts as I saw the peculiar man take the money pouch off the harbormaster's desk.
The man now walked up to where the Navy's ship, The Dauntless, was docked. He tried to walk past the two guards there, but to no avail. The fat one spoke up: "This dock is off limits to civilians."
The dreadlock man smiled cheekily. "I'm terribly sorry. I didn't know. If I see one, I shall inform you immediately." He tried to slip past the guards, but they blocked his path once again. "Apparently there's some sort of high toned and fancy to do up at the fort, eh? How could it be that two upstanding gentlemen such as yourselves did not merit an invitation?" he started, trying to get on the guard's good side, maybe even make them leave.
"Someone has to make sure this dock stays off limits to civilians!" the skinny one piped up.
"It's a fine goal to be sure, but it seems to me that a ship like that," dreadlocks said, pointing to The Dauntless, "makes this one here a bit superfluous, really."
Skinny said, "Oh, the Dauntless is the power in these waters, true enough, but there's no ship as can match the Interceptor for speed."
"I've heard of one, supposed to be very fast, nigh un-catchable! The Black Pearl," said the man, as if he knew. I got closer listening intently.
"Well, there's no REAL ship as can match the Interceptor," the fat one said.
"The Black Pearl is a real ship," skinny argued.
"No, no it's not," fatty said, shaking hid head.
"Yes, it is, I've seen it."
"You've seen it?"
"Yes."
"You haven't seen it."
"Yes, I have."
"You've seen a ship with black sails, that's crewed by the damned and captained by a man so evil that Hell itself spat him back out?"
"...No."
"No."
"But I have seen a ship with black sails!"
As the two men argue, the mysterious man slips away, and boards The Interceptor, heading towards the helm. I almost burst out laughing at how stupid the two guards were.
"Oh, and no ship that's not crewed by the damned and captained by a man so evil that Hell itself spat him back out could possibly have black sails therefore couldn't possibly be any other ship than the Black Pearl. Is that what you're saying?"
"No."
"Like I said, there's no real ship as can match the Interceptor." As he finishes, he (finally, its about time) spots the man on The Interceptor.
"Hey! You! Get away from there!"
"You don't have permission to be aboard there, mate!"
"I'm sorry, it's just - it's such a pretty boat." Puts his hand up, correcting himself. "Ship."
"What's your name?"
"Smith. Or Smithy, if you like."
I rolled my eyes. Yeah...sure. And my name is Santa Clause.
"What's your purpose in Port Royal, Mr. Smith?"
"Yeah, and no lies!"
"Well, then, I confess, it is my intention to commandeer one of these ships, pick up a crew in Tortuga, raid, pillage, plunder and otherwise pilfer my weasely black guts out!" He smiled happily at the guards.
"I said no lies!"
"I think he's telling the truth."
"If he were telling the truth, he wouldn't have told us!"
"Unless, of course, he knew you wouldn't believe the truth even if he told it to you." That line confused us all.
"Now, I'll tell you about my time when I became chief..." 'Smithy' began, the conversation getting interesting as 'Smithy told about his adventure. "And then they made me their chief," he finished. Just then, a woman fell from the battlements from above and into the water. I watched with eyes as wide as dinner plates as she fell to what seemed like certain death.