"What's the Black Pearl doing here?" I asked.
"I don't know, but whenever I've encountered it, it meant annoyances and foul odors," James replied dryly.
"Wait, you mean the Black Pearl from your time? With Jack Sparrow?" Jericka asked.
"Unfortunately," James answered as we watched the Pearl inch closer to shore. As it got closer, I could see her crew, but one funny little man stood out. Everyone else looked like they were from this time; this one did not.
"That's him," James sighed, marching off to the nearest jetty, within earshot of the pirate ship.
Jericka and I scurried after him, "Oh my god, he's like a German Shephard who smells drugs, but with pirates." She spoke.
"Commodore!" Sparrow called, throwing his tanned and tattooed arms out, a big smile on his face, as though meeting an old friend and sauntered down the gangway lowered onto the jetty, eager to see James. I could not tell if he was drunk, in a perpetual state of concussion, or having trouble adjusting to dry land. Sparrow did not seem bothered by it. His attire was a mix of old and new; while he wore sturdy (and dirty) denim pants, he wore an ancient leather tricorn on his be-dreaded head that was literally in tatters.
"He's shorter than I expected," I commented.
James snorted back a laugh.
"Out of everyone else, I dinnit 'spect to see you here." He said, swaying slightly, and pointed to James, "How's the mod'rn world treating you? Here, lemme get yer number." He said, pulling out a cracked and caseless black iPhone.
"Oh, and this was yers," Captain Sparrow said as he dug around in his pockets. He pulled out a clump of soiled white hair and put it in James' hand. It took Jericka and I both a moment to realize what it was. It was his powdered wig.
"Why would I want this?" James asked like he was holding a dead rat.
He shrugged, "It was yours."
"How are you still around?" James asked, more annoyed than curious.
The pirate shrugged, "I never got around to dyin'. And yerself?"
"Voodoo." James deadpanned and started to walk back to the beach. He tossed the wig in the trash once ashore. The harsh wind blew sand that pricked at any exposed skin.
"Commodore!" Sparrow said, hurrying after James holding his finger up. "There's a problem."
James stopped, "No. You have a problem. The last time I got involved in your affairs, I lost everything. Now, I have a chance to be happy and enjoy myself for once, and I will take it. So please, get back on the atrocity you call a ship and leave," he said, pointing to the Pearl. "I implore you to forget about my existence," James begged.
"Whaddaya gonna do? Become a beach bum?" Sparrow asked.
"I just might."
Thunder clapped overhead as lightning illuminated James and the Captain's faces. We were startled at the sudden noise.
"Well, I hate to put a damper in your…retirement? But Cap'n Lafitte is not happy that you're on his land. Says 'e's gonna blow a hurricane this way. So please don't shoot the messenger!" Sparrow said, holding up his hands, "We was just goin' to New Orleans for some beignets when Captain Lafitte noticed I was goin' in yer direction." Sparrow said, still holding his hands up.
"I don't hunt pirates anymore." James shook his head.
Sparrow shrugged, "Says it doesn't matter."
"Wait, he's still alive too?" I asked.
"If you love the sea, she'll be good to you," Jericka answered.
The Captain smiled knowingly, "She's right."
"Wait, you aren't the one causing the hurricane?" I asked.
"Me?" Captain Sparrow questioned with a mischievous smile, "No. That's Cap'n Lafitte's doing. I don't need that grand of entrance." He turned serious, looking to James, "Look. I can take you to Cap'n Lafitte, and you two can work somethin' out, savvy?"
James sighed heavily and was silent for a moment. "Fine. I will meet with Lafitte."
The wind was picking up to the point it was hard to stand. James held me close, but I could tell he was losing his balance as well, and I had a hold on Jericka. We were like a chain of people trying to keep each other stable. Sparrow held down what remained of his hat.
"Ah, so you've found yerself another potential Mrs. Norrington? I am happy for you, mate. I was gettin' a bit worried there. I think I like this one. She seems sturdy." He said, seemingly picking a word out of the air.
"This man is a walking migraine. I would behoove you not to focus on him." James said to me.
It started to rain so hard, it felt like we were being hit with paintballs. Then there was a clamoring of voices and the sick twisting and scraping of old wood. It happened so fast; I do not think the crew had any time to react. Lafitte was messing with us.
"The Pearl!" Sparrow screeched in horror, covering his kohl smudged eyes.
The wind had run the Black Pearl into the jetty we were just standing on. The crew scuttled about, trying to assess the damage.
"It's fine." James replied rather blasé, "She won't sink. She is merely punctured, but I don't see how she can get out to sea. With minor repairs, she will make it to your destination of New Orleans in one piece. It will not be smooth, but it is achievable." I felt that Lafitte was only giving us a taste of what he could do and was growing tired of waiting.
"She's my ship! Do you know what we have been through together? How many times I lost her!?" Sparrow yelled. "How are we gonna get to Lafitte then?" Sparrow asked. "I want my beignets!"
"My boat can't make it in this surf," I said.
"I know of another ship," James said, heading in the direction of Pier 21.
"What's 'e talkin' about?" Sparrow asked Jericka and me.
"I'm afraid he's talking about Elissa."
"I doubt Captain Lafitte is an amiable man. Nor am I walking into this unprepared. Is the Elissa outfitted with cannons?" James asked.
"She was a merchant ship. She has one surviving," Jericka responded, "but it's usually in the museum."
"No, but it's tourist season, so I'm sure they moved it back onto her." I countered.
"Even so, is it still gonna work?" Jericka asked.
"Here's the thing about cannons," Sparrow said. But then, he paused as though he was about to say something profound, "all you need is a ball and gunpowder."
"They are incredibly simple machines." James agreed. "There isn't much to them. But, unless it is sealed, I'm sure it will still work."
"It wasn't when we were kids," I said, "Holly Stevens dropped her Tamagotchi down it during a field trip in second grade."
"Well, I think we have a plan." Sparrow grinned and whistled to his crew, waving them over to us. We all trudged our way to the pier, becoming soaked by the torrential rain.
"I bloody hate hurricanes," James muttered darkly.
As we walked through town, I started to notice veves painted on houses and stores. Looking as though many hands drew them, they were painted in traditional red brick powder. A veve is a religious symbol of Vodun, or as we know it today, voodoo. Jericka dabbled in the practice, but her family was devoted practitioners. I knew the characters were for protection.
"I positive we're committing a felony, but what choice do we have? We must save the island. Galveston is a barrier island. It's like we're a sacrifice for the rest of Texas." Jericka said, hutched over to try to keep the rain out of her eyes.
"At least they both know how to sail. I don't even know if Elissa has keys for her engines." I replied.
"We're not using the engines," Sparrow added. "Wind power is the only way to sail!"
We made it to the pier and hopped over the turnstiles that barred us from her deck. James had offered me his steady hand. By then, the island looked deserted, and the home and property owners and tenants boarded up all the doors and windows. The Elissa, sightseeing boats, and the restaurateur's yacht rocked violently in the surf. Jericka and I watched Sparrow scurry back and forth, unfurling sails and working with the rigging that kept the Elissa moored as we tried to stay out of everyone's way.
"He's like a cat…I can watch him for hours. Y'know from a distance…." I commented. "I honestly cannot tell if he's a genius or a complete idiot."
"I assure you, he is an idiot," James answered.
"At least he's a working part of his crew," I spoke. I think it said a lot about Sparrow's leadership that he was a part of the grunt work, too, something James' and his class did not do.
"Everyone has their place," James replied flatly.
"You were on that wheel too, mate," Sparrow said knowingly.
James' expression visibly deflated.
"Wheel? What wheel?" I asked.
"It's not important," James said and hurried off.
James and Sparrow both walked up to the wheel, both setting hands on it. There was going to be a fight for control. Sparrow pulled the wheel towards himself, James pulled it back, knocking the pirate off balance slightly. James just stared at him, who quickly backed down, "Okay, fine, she's yers" he said, shrinking away.
We were ready to sail, but it felt like Elissa was struggling against something. Everyone looked confused.
"She likely has an underwater mooring system," James announced. "For extra security without diminishing aesthetics."
I watched James take a near expert dive off the bow without another thought.
"Ah, so the schoolboy can swim! He finally learnt!" Sparrow said in glee.
"Are you insane!?" I screeched over the bow.
I watched the churning water for any signs of James. No one knew how complicated or straightforward the mooring was. Every moment felt too long, too long to go without air. Then, Elissa sprung forward and began to sail. James sprung up from the dark water, the crew helping him back onboard.
With the crew on board, we were out of the pier in minutes despite the mooring issue. The Texas flag whipped in the gale-force wind from her center mast.
"Mr. Sparrow," James ordered, "Where is Lafitte?"
Sparrow's face went blank for a moment, then spat out a series of numbers James understood. "Give me your compass and a map," James said, holding his hand out, looking straight into the open ocean. Sparrow patted his pockets for a moment then produced an antique compass. James looked at it for a moment.
"It works now," Sparrow said proudly, "Like a real compass." He corrected. I had the feeling Jericka, and I wasn't in on the entire story.
It was not long before the skies grew darker and darker. We had to turn on Elissa's updatedlights to see where we were going. Several miles out in the open ocean, a black fog seemed to concentrate into one area. Lafitte was behind that fog.
"James? What are you doing?" I asked.
"I need to sail into the eye of the hurricane," James said over the wind.
"The hurricane?" I exclaimed, "James, no! You know what happens! There has to be a safer way!"
"Lafitte's ship is generating it. If we are going to stop him, I need to be able to make contact. I can only do that up close."
The fog became thicker and thicker, the wind faster and more violent, causing ocean water to spill onto the deck, the lightning brighter and closer until there, Lafitte stood, resplendent in red with a large feather blooming from his hat, his arms demurely behind his back. He still wore the fashions of his time. He stood on The Pride, a supposedly now antiquated pirate ship that was well maintained. The Pearl, on the other hand, had looked like she needed some attention.
The rain had stopped. Why would Lafitte inconvenience himself? First, of course, he would keep himself comfortable.
Lafitte eyed James as though he were a bug on his plate. He had a rat-like face with rosy cheeks that looked more from high blood pressure and sun damage than youth and vitality. Lafitte had dark beady eyes and a pinched nose with frizzy but tidy black hair about to his shoulders. We idled up close to the ship.
"Commodore James Norrington," Lafitte spoke in a thick French accent. "The Pirate Hunter. You are on my land." He accused.
"I'm retired. I don't 'hunt' anymore." James answered plainly.
"Your presence on Campeche is still…." Lafitte searched for the word "distasteful. Leave the island, or I will not hesitate to destroy it again." Lafitte spoke in somewhat broken English.
My heart plunged into my stomach. Lafitte ransacked and torched Galveston to the ground when American colonists tried to overrule him. If he could not have it, no one could. This man was dangerous. He had no qualms about doing it again.
"I couldn't hunt a pirate today even if I wanted to. I have no men, no ship, no armory, no desire. End the storm." James said.
"How do I know you're not lying? You have done it before to accomplish your goals. Your reputation precedes you." Lafitte said, his nose tipped slightly in the air.
James was growing tired of the banter.
Suddenly, there was an explosion, and both ships rocked. Smoke was coming from Elissa. A timid-looking Sparrow stood next to a smoldering cannon, Elissa's only one.
"Are you daft?" James hollered.
"I was just tryin to get the battle going."
"There didn't need to be a battle!" James replied.
Lafitte cleared his throat.
We turned our attentions back to him.
"You missed."
We all watched as an old cannonball went in the opposite direction Sparrow intended and plummeted into the water with a thunk and splash. Still, the crew of the Pride was ready and took Sparrow's aggression seriously. All of her armory was trained on us, and Sparrow had used Elissa's last cannonball.
I was going to die in the middle of the Gulf because of bygone pirates and sailors. My mind was numb with a mix of disbelief and begrudging acceptance. What else could I do?
Suddenly, I could hear a roar. I thought it was a tornado, but I recognized the sound all too well. It was the sound of small boat engines. An armada of boats made from wood and propelled by oars with the modern vessels behind them came from the fog. Judging by their talismans and symbols either on their person or on their boats, they were voodoo practitioners. However, I was not entirely sure the ones up front were modern people. Part of me wondered if they were spirits. How had they managed to calm the ocean enough to navigate their way to us?
"I called some friends while you guys were packing up your house," Jericka said. "I was afraid they wouldn't find us."
Silently, the boaters closed their eyes and raised their hands. Then, the storm steadily began to dissipate and stopped entirely.
Lafitte looked on in horror at the boaters beneath his ship.
The leader spoke up in a wizened accented voice, "Captain Lafitte, you are no friend to the island. If you shall ever bring harm to her or step foot on her fertile soil, you will meet a miserable fate."
The crew of the Pride began to clamor in different languages. Lafitte tried to bring order to his ship but quickly became overruled as the crew began preparations to sail away.
The boaters watched until the Pride was gone, entirely under the control of the crew rather than her Captain. Then, slowly, they began to ease back into the fog.
Upon returning to land, Galveston was a little worse for wear, but we had seen worse. The 61st street fishing pier was in tatters, with large chunks floating nearby. Plant debris littered the streets and trash from the water on the beaches. Overturned cars and any structure facing Seawall Boulevard had mild to moderate damage. However, anything with a veve remained intact for the most part. I expected to have some damage at home as well.
We hastily returned the Elissa to her mooring, and the Black Pearl, patched up enough to make it the relatively short journey to New Orleans, hugging the coastline.
"Well, that was a rousing adventure! Who wants beignets?" Sparrow called to his crew, who cheered wildly.
"Mr. Sparrow," James called before returning to land.
The old pirate feigned confusion, "And who are you? Do I know you? Have I threatened you before?"
James nodded and left the ship.
"I'm still rootin' for ya mate," Sparrow called from the pirate ship. "I'll tell the Queen yer still around next time I see 'er. I bet she'll reinstate ya."
James and I ignored the old pirate as the sun began to rise, locked in each other's embrace on the jetty.
"Your eyes are the color of Galveston water…."
James grinned, "When you've seen crystal clear blue water, that's not much of a compliment."
I slapped his shoulder, "It's a compliment to me. It's home."
"Will you take me there? To where the waters are blue?"
"I'd take you anywhere."