AUTHOR'S NOTE Sorry I've been gone for so long! Here is the chapter for JACK!
DISCLAIMER To my utter sadness, I do not own our dear Captain Jack. However, I do own this interpretation of how he got his beginnings.
If anyone wants to read another take on how Captain Jack began, read "Aftermath" by L'Morgan. It's a great story!
So yeah…everyone was so looking forward to Ragetti's chapter and then no one reviewed! Come on people…
The lights of Tortuga glittered obscenely onshore. Aboard a grand ship, crewmen eyed the island lustfully, eager to spend their money on all manner of sinful pleasures. Only one on the pirate vessel was uninterested.
A lad of 15 sat glowering on deck, his wrists tied to the rail. It was his own fault that he'd gotten caught and even more his own fault that he'd chosen to stow away on a pirate ship. But at 15, John Wellington never backed down from a fight.
The bruises on his ribs had taught him to be more careful about fighting with pirates, especially on their ship. They seemed awfully territorial about it.
The Captain called out to his crew. "We be approaching shore! Take in sail!" At his word, the crew immediately climbed the rigging, retracting the sails so that none of the white canvas was visible. The ship slowed almost to a halt. "Run out the oars!" the Captain called again.
"Why do you do that?" John couldn't help himself. He hated his captors with a passion, but was very curious about ships. It was the reason he'd run away from home and stowed away in the first place. That combined with the fact that he was forced to live with his horrible old spinster aunt and all of her cats.
The Captain looked down disdainfully at his captive. The boy put on hi best innocent face. "We don't want to be advertisin' our arrival to all those on shore. White sails be easy ta see in the' moonlight, savvy?"
"That's stupid, savvy?" John retorted mockingly. He bit his tongue for a minute as the Captain backhanded him. He glared at the pirate. "Ye should just make th' sails black. Then no one'll see 'em."
The Captain didn't answer. Instead he just snarled at the boy and retook his position at the helm.
John glared at him for a minute, then examined his bonds. The pirates who had tied him up hadn't looked all that intelligent and sure enough, the knot was loose and incorrectly tied. And John just happened to be a resourceful lad.
Far too preoccupied with their approach into shore, none of the pirates noticed when John used his teeth to free himself. He stood up cockily and shouted, "Avast!"
His eyes widened when 40 pistols were cocked and pointed at his head. Without a second thought, he turned around and dove gracefully into the water. No gunshots followed him as he swam as fast as he could to shore.
Once he'd climbed from the sea, he realized the predicament he was in. No money. No food. No help. He reached what appeared to be the center of the port and realized that the island didn't seem to have anything except pirates, whores, and an abundance of a very strong liquor. All of it intrigued him.
John grinned to himself. Might as well experiment. Dripping wet, he swaggered up to the nearest woman he saw. "Good evening me beauty!"
The woman, obviously a whore, looked to one of her companions. The two giggled. "What's yer name, sir?" the first asked sarcastically.
"John Wellington!"
She giggled again. "And how old be ye?"
"He ain't more'n a litt'l sparrow of a thing!" her friend taunted.
John glared defiantly at them. "15."
The whores couldn't contain their laughter. They turned to leave. "When ye're old enough ta get a job that'll pay fer me, then we'll talk!" one called back.
He flushed deep red. He'd never been so humiliated. Laughed at by a whore! Then and there, John Wellington vowed to be the most respected man in all of Tortuga.
Of course, that meant becoming a pirate.
For days, the boy buried himself in dark tavern corners. He watched pirates of all sorts, learning and mimicking their mannerisms and speech. Soon he found himself imitating pirates without realizing it.
But there was more to pirating than walking and talking. He would need a crew and a ship. Well, maybe he'd start by joining a crew on someone else's ship, but it wouldn't be long before he'd have his own.
A name. He had to have a name. John Wellington sounded neither impressive nor threatening. It would have to go, but for what? He needed a name that everyone in the Caribbean would know.
A memory came to him. A friend of his father's had come to dinner, much to his mother's dismay. He was a sailor and had coarse manners to say the least. "Ye gonna run away ta sea, Jack me boy?" he used to ask. "Ye should." His mother would glare daggers. At least John had waited until his parents were dead before sailing away.
Jack sounded like a reasonable pirate's name though. Not the most fearsome, but catchy enough. 'Captain Jack…' he thought. 'Captain Jack what?'
"He ain't more'n a litt'l sparrow of a thing!"
It was perfect. Captain Jack Sparrow. His name would be feared everywhere. Jack would be known by pirates, whores, sailors, and soldiers alike.
The tattoo was painful, but jack figured it was his rite of passage. And anyway, he looked all the better for it. It put Jack Sparrow under his skin and drove John Wellington out.
The man who did it glanced warily at the boy. "Now ye're gonna feel some pain fer a few days."
"Pain ne'er bothers a pirate." Jack looked at the dark outline of a sparrow flying over the sea that adorned his right forearm and grinned. "Savvy?"
