Chapter Two: Reunion
The pounding was never-ending in the world of Will Turner. It seemed like the days heÕd spent in his room were ceaseless in their fervor. And always the pounding.
He could seethe blade. The red hot metal as he pounded it and folded it over and over again, forging it and strengthening the Toledo steel. The endless repetition that once soothed his soul now haunted his mind.
He opened his eyes, hoping that maybe his surroundings could wrench him from his thoughts. But, all he saw were her eyes. Those last moments, as she smiled up at him, her face pale with the life that was gone. Those eyes though, they spoke volumes. They told him what she couldnÕt say himself
ÔGo Will. Live your life. I love you, but just go.Õ
It was the same thing she told him before the last seizure took her speech. That she loved him and that he should be happy. She told him to find Jack and follow his free life on the sea.
Jack
The feelings that flooded him every time he thought of his friend were strange. He wasnÕt quite sure what they were exactly. Jack was his friend; his confidant. When they had wrote, they had told each other almost everything. Each regaled the other of their childhood, JackÕs as an orphan in the Caribbean and WillÕs as an English boy. Each had told the other things no one else knew.
But that was gone now.
Will was all alone. He reached beside him, and grabbed for the only letter that Will still had in his possession from Jack. He looked down. One line grabbed his attention.
ÕAfter a week of storms, we finally landed in a small Spanish port known as Trujillo. The dirt here is black, just like the beautiful hair of the whores who wander the street. I found a beautiful one named Mercedes. When she took me back to her room, the most peculiar thing happened. Nothing! My equipment, if you will ,wouldnÕt respond. ItÕs a problem IÕve been having for weeks . . . '
Jack, so open. So free to live. Jack, who was his only friend, yet was so far.
His eyes started to sting with that familiar feeling of loss. The letter dropped as he buried his hands in his hair. Once again, Will Turner, the man whoÕd freed the Black Pearl from itÕs dreaded curse, cried into the empty night.
!~!~!~!~
After a few well placed inquiries, Jack and his crew found themselves in front of what used to be the Will and Elizabeth Turner residence. It was a charming two story home on the edge of the city. Jack knew her family would outfit them well. He didnÕt realize theyÕd do this well.
He knocked on the door, but swayed back when it was swung open by a disgruntled looking servant. "Wadda ye want?"
The stench of alcohol on the man was amazing. Jack leaned in, smelling and savoring the smells of a fine Caribbean rum before he cleared his throat and leaned back. "IÕm lookinÕ for Will and Elizabeth Turner. Are they in?" He smiled, his teeth flashing white against his tanned face.
The man looked down on him for a moment and Jack was sure heÕd pick a fight. Then, the manÕs eyes filled with tears and he stepped back from the door a step. "The misses is dead. SheÕs been so for nigh 6 months."
JackÕs heart froze for a moment before he remembered he wasnÕt supposed to have a heart. Well, thatÕs what that trollop on that one island had told him.
"Mr. Turner is locked up in the insane asylum down the street. I trust thatÕs what you came for." The man shut the door crisply in his face.
JackÕs question died on his lips as he found solid wood his only speaking companion. He turned to his mate, shrugged, and led the way down to the road. At the gate, he looked north and south down the road. South led back to Port Royale. And they certainly didnÕt remember seeing an insane asylum. But they hadnÕt been looking.
He looked to the north. It was a dark stretch of high way. In the distance, someone screamed. Jack smiled grimly, and set off north, slightly weaving in the wheel ruts.
!~!~!~!~!
The air was changing ever so slightly. It was slightly damp. It felt like fog.
Not just any fog.
The fog that followed the Black Pearl, even after the curse had been lifted. Will lifted his head and stood. Every joint and muscle in his body screamed in protest as hestretched parts of his body that heÕd forgotten how to use.
Memories years old started to creep into his conscious and he grinned. Will moved to the window. Craning his neck, he saw the fog spread out over the harbor and he knew. He just knew that Jack had come for him.
Someone unlocked his door. He turned his eyes and was immediately blinded by the unfamiliar light of a torch.
"ÕEre he is gents. DonÕ know Ôow much Ôelp eÕll be to ye. ÔEÕs crazy as a bat! Been Ôere nigh two years he Ôas." His jailer, a corpulent man name Wiggins, stepped aside and took the torch with him. As WillÕs eyes adjusted, he recognized the shape that stepped through the door as the one and only Captain Jack Sparrow.
"Jack, IÕm so glad youÕre here!" Will stepped forward, but stopped short when he finally saw the manÕs face.
He was nearly clean-shaven. His hair was pulled back, framing his face. And he was wearing clean clothing. Will stepped forward. He raised his hand and traced the manÕs cheek. The skin, although still tough, was soft to his touch.
"Jack?" It was a whisper, a plea. Begging that the swashbuckling pirate heÕd come to think of as his closest friend, more than a friend, was here instead of this well-groomed man.
"Jack?"
"Aye Will, itÕs me."
WillÕs eyes filled again. Jack opened his arms and Will fell forward into them. He was silent as the tears dripped.
"IÕve waited so long for you to come for me. So long for you to take me away. To become a pirate." He pulled away, tears still coming down his face. "To become a pirate, and a good man."
Jack smiled and ruffled WillÕs hair. "God, you look a mess. DonÕt you believe in things called razors in this place?" He ran a hand down WillÕs jaw, tugging at the beard there that had filled in substantially in two years. Will unconsciously leaned into the touch.
Will didnÕt realize what he had done. But Jack did. His eyes skimmed the lean body. He was just as well built as ever. "So, Ôtis a pirate you wish to be? Well my good man, tonight you start."
Will looked into JackÕs eyes and found the humor there. Enough to make him laugh. Jack turned and led the way out of the door. The man following him took one last look around his cell and spat on the floor, ready to feel the ocean air in his hair once more.
