Elizabeth grasped the knotty hand of Mr. Cotton, and stepped onto the deck of the Pearl. Its familiar patched sails hung in the humid air above and its old stained deck rolled below. Cotton gave Elizabeth a friendly leer, and his parrot, standing on his shoulder with one foot, squawked, "There be wind in 'er sails!" delightedly.
A few of the other sailors paused in their work to greet Gibbs and Alania, and to nod and smile at Elizabeth, before continuing to prepare the ship for their next voyage.
Elizabeth looked up toward the forecastle and spotted a dark, well-known figure at the wheel. She glanced at Gibbs, who nodded and took Little James by the hand, leading him away towards the main mast, pointing out and explaining everything from prow to stern with pride. Elizabeth turned and mounted the stairs. Coming out atop the forecastle, she walked over to the wheel, where the dark man stood, consulting his compass. She stood at his side for a moment, one brow raised and a little scowl fighting to become a smile on her face.
"Jack."
"Elizabeth." He looked up from the compass, but only stared out at the sea before consulting the direction of the compass again. "Or as it were, Mrs. Turner now, ey? What brings you here to me humble abode?"
Elizabeth frowned. "I was hoping you would tell me."
"I'm afraid I know little more than you do, love. Believe it or not, this wasn't my idea. My concept of thrilling adventure doesn't usually involve distressing damsels, death, or any combination of the two, whether subsequential or independent or infuriating. But it seems that my feelings, along with my ship and crew, have been subordinated to the inescapable needs and feelings of a power greater than that of our own, savvy?" He clapped his compass closed and gazed coldly at the sea.
Elizabeth stared at him a moment, then snapped,
"No, I don't 'savvy'! What on earth are you talking about?"
Jack turned his head and leveled a long look at her from his black, burning eyes.
"Don't you have her token?"
Elizabeth threw up her hands and stamped one of her small, slipper-bound feet on the deck, crying,
"Whose token?"
Jack grunted and turned back to the wheel, but Elizabeth saw as he unconsciously rubbed his right palm on the side of his dirty breeches, as if to wipe off an unpleasant moisture. The image of a putrid black spot flashed through Elizabeth's mind, and she shuddered. She reached into a pocket within the folds of her skirt, and felt for the gold coin from Gibbs. It struck against her fingers and she lifted it out, glittering in the sunlight.
Jack did not move his head, but his eyes slid sideways -- and then snapped away. He stared into the distance as though suddenly chilled, every limb stiff with cold. His voice echoed, hollow, as he answered,
"That token."
Elizabeth turned the coin over in her hand. The crab symbol caught the light and Elizabeth, looking at it, thought that it seemed to move. She whispered, "Calypso," and clenched her hand. She stared at her fist, lost in thought, until she felt a slight shift in the deck. She looked up.
"Jack!"
The ship was moving. The town of Port Royal faded further every moment into the blue distance. The Pearl flew forward like a ship possessed, gliding on the glassy sea.
"Jack, take us back! Turn the ship around!" Elizabeth ran to the forecastle railing and searched the deck desperately. She spotted Gibbs leading Little James below decks.
"No! Gibbs!"
She started down the stairs, then spun back, her skirts whirling about her, and ran back to Jack Sparrow. She grabbed his arm and tried to shake it, but it remained iron hard on the wheel, and Jack did not turn, did not move his eyes from the empty horizon.
"Jack! You're the captain, make them bring the ship around! I'll go with you -- I will! -- just take my son back to shore! Jack, please!"
"I'm sorry, love." Jack grasped her hand and pried it from his arm. "I'm afraid the Pearl is no longer under my command. She answers only to the sea."
Elizabeth stepped backwards, staring at him with wet, angry eyes, uncomprehending, and then spun around to grip the rail. She looked toward where Gibbs and her son had disappeared into the bowels of the ship, and she whispered into the still air, "Gibbs -- how could you?"
A tear dropped down her cheek. She looked over her shoulder at a hazy spot in the sea, all that she could see of Port Royal before it vanished entirely.
"Hurts, doesn't it?"
Jack still stood at the wheel, regarding the distance, but softer lines framed his eyes. He spared a glance at Elizabeth.
"I'm not saying as you haven't had your share of pirates and turncoats and lying and what-have-you, but it still hurts, doesn't it, love?"
Elizabeth wiped her eyes with her sleeve and grasped the rail harder.
"And don't worry about the lad. Little --" He paused.
"James."
"-- Little James." He cocked his head and shot a bemused eye toward Elizabeth. "James. Hm. Sounds familiar. Does dear William approve or did you pick that one all by your one-sy?"
Elizabeth raised her chin and glared frigidly at Jack.
"Will and I picked it together. He thought it was very appropriate. And James is not my son's full name. It's -- William James --" She faltered, and looked back out at the sea.
"But no Jack?" Jack frowned and raised his eyebrows in disappointment. "And how about Hector? And now that I think of it, Joshamee has a lovely ring. Gibbs would be very pleased. But I suppose that you only use the names of your fiancés to christen your progeny, ey?"
"Shut up," Elizabeth growled.
Jack smiled wryly, and pulled the wheel of the ship a little to the right. He dug into a deep coat pocket where he had placed his compass and drew it out again. He flipped it open and stared at it. His stare turned hard and he grunted disgustedly, slapping it closed again.
Elizabeth turned. Her face changed, and she moved nearer to Jack, one hand trailing languidly on the rail, and asked, "What is our heading, Captain?" in a sultry voice.
"D--d if I know! Bloody, worthless, spinning compass! Pro'bly broken. Got water in the casing. Flamin' bloody heading."
A dark green glass bottle sat at the rail by Jack's side, and he snatched it up, ripped out the stop with his teeth, and pulled at the contents fiercely. He swallowed with a satisfied gasp, smacked his lips, and wiped them with his sleeve.
"Rum?" asked Elizabeth, eyeing the bottle hopefully.
Jack paused, his arm still at his mouth, and regarded Elizabeth. She looked up at him with large eyes and a quivering lip, as pitiful as possible. He narrowed his eyes and peered at her, up and down, and then he slowly extended his arm and offered her the bottle. She took it carefully. A wicked smile appeared on her face, and before Jack could snatch back the bottle, she threw it over the side of the ship. She listened to it splash into the water with closed eyes, a beatific smile on her upturned face. She then looked back at Jack complacently.
Jack, however, just smiled in return, his teeth dazzling white and gold beneath his beard, and murmured,
"So we're back to that, are we, love?"
He reached into his other pocket and drew out a little flask. He put it to his lips and tipped it up on its end. When it came down, it was empty, and Jack sighed, happily. He put it back in his pocket and returned his attention to the wheel.
"Good thing I came prepared, savvy?"
