The crew gave a great cheer when the cannon hit the water. A few men lingered to watch their last hindrance disappear into the briny depths.
Bill awoke upon impacted in time to inhale a gallon of sea water. The cannon was dragging him down. With a great effort, he managed to take a deep breath and dove to attack the thick knots binding him to the cannon. Unable to untie them he struggled out of his favorite pair of boots and swam to the surface. He took another great gulp of air and dove again to avoid being seen by the murderous crew aboard his former place of employment. He swam to a rock jutting out of the water and took shelter on a small shelf on its back side. Once the ship was out of sight, Bill began to swim for shore.
"At least I'll be dry when I die," he thought aloud as he reached the shore. Panting he fell and just lied there attempting to catch his breath. After a while he rolled over and looked around the island. It looked eerily familiar. Then it hit him, this was the island the crew of the ship he was just thrown off of had marooned the captain on. He walked around the island and found the captain face first in the sand, snoring soundly. Bill thought of waking the snoozing pirate but then thought better of himself, figuring that the captain would must likely strangle him if awakened.
Bill began to pace around a group of young palm trees. On one of his passes he stumbled. He thought it must have been a root that tripped him. "Palm tree's roots don't grow near the surface," he murmured. He looked and there, quite plainly, was a trap door in the middle of a deserted island. He opened the door praying that nothing jumped out of the hole and kill him, something thought not to be common among his kind. Nothing did. Instead Bill found something that would make both him and Jack very happy for a long while. Rum.
"It must a Rum Runner's cash," thought Bill out loud. "I've got rum, now all I need is someone to drink it with." He climbed out of the hole and kicked Jack awake.
"What the bloody hell are you doing Barbossa?" he shouted. (It was last thing he was going to say before he was thrown over board.) "Wait a tick," Jack spotted Bill. "You're not Barbossa. Bill? What, did you actually stand up to that mutinous bastard?"
"Surprisingly, I did." Bootstrap Bill Turner sat down heavily on the beach next to the former captain. "You were a good captain for the most part. If they wanted you dead they should have shot you. Apparently, they really didn't care if you died or not. I did try to kill him; he wasn't too fond of that so he tried to kill me instead. I should be sleepin' with the fishes any time now." Jack stood up and stretched the kinks that had formed in his back from sleeping on the sand. Bill followed suit; but instead of stretching, he walked over to where he found the trap door.
"You did all that for me? I didn't know you cared mate," said Jack inching closer to Bill. With a great shove, Bill threw Jack back to the ground. As Jack attempted to heave himself off the ground, Bill began to jump up and down between two pine trees. "Oi, Bill, I don't think there be any rabbits on this God forsaken spit of land, what are you jumpin' for?!"
"You'll see in a minute and you really will love me." Bill bent over and pulled at the trap door once more and disappeared inside. Jack sat there dazed and blinking. It was only when Bill came back up with two large bottles of rum did Jack's slightly befuddled mind comprehend what the significance of the island was.
"You were right Bill, I do love you," slurred Jack after he took several gulps of rum.
"And for the next threes days, Jack and I drank ourselves stupid." Elizabeth sat there; hanging on to every word Bill told her. "When the Rum Runners came, I bartered passage for us to Tortuga. Jack was intent regaining control of the Pearl, but I wanted nothing to do with it. So, after making him swear on pain of death he would never tell a soul that I was alive, I made my way back to the Isla de Muerta to see if I couldn't lift the damned curse. I just couldn't do it. I gave up all hope of being free of the damned thing. I worked my way to Port Royal. It was there that the former commodore took me on as a stable hand. Not exactly the type of work I was looking for, but at the time it was the best thing that I could get." Bill paused for a moment, wondering if he should go on. "I laid down the life of a pirate. Nothing good ever came out of it. I left my wife and son for it, and I lost them. And the only true friend I ever had is most likely half way around the world by now."
Unable to contain herself, Elizabeth wrapped her arms around the old man. He was her only comfort, the only part of her family she could see. 'Probably the last,' she thought.
Slowly, Bill returned the embrace. He knew that this woman was bait for Jack, and he hoped whole heartedly that said lush would stay where ever he was. The thought that Jack could be on his way to his destruction shook him, not as much as what Elizabeth had called him earlier. He brushed it off as a bit of confusion on her part. After all, she had just lost her only son, and her husband could be in great danger. But there was some small nagging part of him that said it was no mistake. Her embrace spoke of familiarity, like she held someone known to her.
'Could this Will Turner I've heard Norrington babbling about be my son?' thought Bill. 'William Turner is a common enough name, I know of at least two other than myself who aren't my son.'
Bill pushed his worry aside and focused on comforting the young woman in her moment of need. He felt content. More than could be said for the past couple of decades.