A/N- Wow, nothing but positive reviews so far!  I'm glad everyone's liking the fic!  There's going to be a switch from 1st person present to 3rd person past tense near the end of the chapter, to show what happened while James was out of the house.  Just lettin' you know.  Also, once again fanfiction.net refuses to upload part of my writing in the italicized form I originally had it.  I don't know why.  The writing's still there, but it's not italicized.  Odd… Anyways, on with the show!

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Chapter 3

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Storming out of the house, the weather seems to belie my discontented nature.  So many of the stories I have read have had the weather reflect the mood of the main character.  In that case, I should be bloody well beaming.  The sun has emerged from a set of sinister looking rain clouds, which are rapidly fading off into the distance.  If weather in the Caribbean isn't volatile, I don't know what is. 

Perhaps I was a bit hasty...

Yes, I shouldn't have reacted like I did.  There have been many times when people have assumed that I could speak, when they have been insulted when I didn't reply to their words.  More than once I have been slapped in the face before someone can explain my lack of speech.  Not pleasant.  I'd like to say I'm used to it.  But it still stings every time I'm reminded of my inability to speak.  It's like an old wound getting reopened right before it's fully healed. 

I should get something.  An apology present of sorts.  For my parents of course, not Sparrow.  I'm going to the market anyway, I may as well use this trip to express my regret over my actions… my parents can't be too happy with me right now.

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So here I am in the market place.  All around me, vendors are hawking their wares.  Collectors prowl the streets desperately, in search of that one elusive item that will bring them riches beyond their wildest dreams.  Women walk daintily down the streets (escorted by fathers, brothers, and husbands), many to seamstresses and dress shops.  How can they stand this humid post-rain heat in those dresses?  I catch myself ogling at one young lady's clothing in particular; a heavy dress of dark burgundy.  She sends me a rather nasty look as she marches past.  I snort to myself in amusement.

Don't flatter yourself, Miss.  Wouldn't come near you with a ten-foot pole and a bandana over my eyes.

It's about an hour before sunset.  I should return home before darkness falls, lest my parents commence fretting over my state of health.  I amble down the streets, pausing here and there to examine the goods of the merchants.  A necklace catches my eye that I'm sure my mother would fancy, unfortunately, I don't have enough money in my pocket for it.  I'll have to remember to pack around more shillings next time I'm out and about.  I pause at a spice shop.  This must be a fair thriving business, because the shop isn't placed in a stall on the side of the street, but in an actual building.  Curious, I walk inside.

My eyes and nose are immediately assaulted by the sight and smell of spices.  Seasonings; sweet, salty, and zesty surround me, so pungent that I can nearly taste them in the back of my throat.  There are a few people roving the shelves set up along the walls.  I join them and wander around the store, avoiding the scrutinizing gaze of the shop keep behind the counter.  Finally, when all other options are exhausted, I walk up to the front to gaze at the spices contained in glass-enclosed shelves beneath the merchant's counter.

"Evenin', sir."  Declares the salesman, a middle aged gentleman with thinning hair.  "Looking for anything in particular?"  I shake my head distractedly.  "Then allow me to suggest some of our fine wares for you.  We have a sale on cinnamon, quite a treat for those with a sweet tooth, goes good with warm milk.  Just got in a shipment of cayenne pepper from Mexico of all places, so you can imagine it's had quite a trip.  Never the less, we have it set at a reasonable price-" Merchant-man continues rattling off different exotic spices

"-jerk, a mix of several spices, though the blending of them is an idea native to the area, there's a sale on that as well at the moment.  It's excellent on meats.  I, personally, enjoy it on chicken-"  I look up at this.  Hmmm, mother is planning on cooking chicken tomorrow, perhaps that would be the best for a present.  The salesman doesn't notice my sudden interest and continues listing off spices.  I tap the counter to get his attention.

"Ah, have you decided, sir?"  Now how do I get him to understand I want that jerk spice?  I wave my hands in the air, trying to indicate that I want one of the spices he said previously.  Merchant-man looks confused.  "'Fraid I don't understand what you're tryin' to tell me, sir.  Can't you just speak it aloud?  Ah, I beat it's the cayenne!  It's the cayenne, isn't it?  I always said cayenne was the best spice in the business-"  I shake my head. "No?  Rock salt!  Not that either?  Errr…"  I am so close to pounding my head against the counter right now.  Wait!  Paper!  My salvation has arrived!  I tap the paper and mime writing.  Merchant-man hands me a quill and I scrawl "jerk" on it.

"Well!  There's no need for name-calling, sir!  If you don't like me, you don't have to- oh, you mean the spice!  Right then, how much would you like?  Three shillings for half a pound- too much?  Well, how much do you have?"  I pull one shilling out of my pocket and put it on the counter.  "…Ah.  Well, we don't usually go beneath a fourth of a pound, wait a moment, let me see-"  Merchant-man walks into a room behind him.  What else can I do but wait?  A few moments later, he walks out with a small bag.  He grabs a scoop and proceeds to a nearby barrel, measuring out enough of the spice to fill the bag while allowing it to close properly.  He comes back to the counter and hands me the bag.

"Pleasure doin' business with you, sir."  He says, smiling while he tosses my coin in his box.  I nod and walk out the door. 

THAT took bloody long enough.  That little voice in my head that indicates thought goes into an overly falsetto impersonation of Merchant-man's voice: "I don't understand what you're tryin' to tell me, sir," "Can't you just speak it aloud?"  "We don't usually go beneath a fourth-" Oh, wait, I don't need to mock him for that last one, he was just doing his job, informing me of that.

Well, at least it's over.  Hmm, seems I've lost track of time, the sun's already set.  Stars are slowly beginning to emerge and the moon is beginning its nightly jaunt across the sky.  But it's not that late, the sun probably just went beneath the horizon five or ten minutes ago.  My parents won't be worrying much yet.  At any rate, it's back home I go.

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3rd person view

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"I'm sorry Jack.  James doesn't particularly enjoy being reminded of his inability to speak."  Will was the first to interrupt the awkward silence that filled the room after James' departure.  Jack waved a hand in the air dismissively.

"Think nothing of it, mate.  But the kid's goin' to have to learn to deal with it someday.  Acts such as the one he just pulled will no doubt seem childish to many before long."

"They seem rather childish now."  Bill muttered under his breath. 

Clap!

 "OW!"  Bill's comment had earned him a smack in the back of the head.  The dark glare he had lined up for the person who hit him dissipated quickly when his mom made eye contact with him.  Elizabeth turned back to Jack.

"So, Jack-" Jack heaved an over dramatic sigh.

"Are EITHER of you EVER goin' to refer to me by my rightful title of Captain?"  Bill snorted softly. Elizabeth stared at Jack for a moment.

"As I was saying, Jack, what brings you to Port Royal?"

"That's right!  It's really dangerous for you here, isn't it?"  Rebecca piped up, looking at Jack Sparrow with nothing less than adoration in her eyes.  "What with the hanging incident seventeen years ago?"

"Ah, well, you see, that's the thing."  Jack said, winking at Rebecca.  "Seventeen years is a long time, luv.  What are the odds that our dear Commodore-"

"That's Vice Admiral." Bill gritted out, not delighting in speaking to a pirate.

"Vice Admiral now, is it?  So he's been promoted?"  Jack asked boredly, plainly uninterested in this new bit of information.  "Well then, what are the odds that our dear Vice Admiral is going to remember one humble pirate out of the many he has most likely seen in his long and successful career, eh?"

"Actually, the odds are quite good."  Will said.  "I believe he still holds a grudge against you, Jack."  Jack smirked.

"He has much to hold a grudge against.  After all, I AM a dashing, handsome, roguish pirate captain with a sharp wit and a fine hat to boot-"

"That's not what I meant Jack, and you know it.  You still haven't answered the question.  Why are you here?"  Jack put his hands together and frowned.

"You don't think I'm a dashing, handsome, roguish pirate captain with a sharp wit and a fine hat to boot?  Tch, very well then.  I'll tell you why I'm here.  Came to pay my respects."  Will looked confused.

"Your respects?"

"Well, I couldn't very well have shown up for your wedding, now could I?  That was only a few months after my grand escape from the good Admiral's clutches.  Yes, I knew it took place soon after my flight from the law, you'd be surprised the sort of information carried in fellow pirate vessels.  I attempted to find time to stopover in Port Royal once more for a visit and perhaps a chance to see the children you two would no doubt have, seeing's how you would want to prove to me that you are, indeed, not a eunuch-" At this point Bill was glaring darkly at Jack, while Rebecca's eyes were shining,

"However, a pirate captain's life is nothing if not busy, searching for the next great treasure and all that, and I'm sorry to say I lost track of time.  So, here I am now, seventeen years later, arriving under cover of heavy tropical rain WHICH, I'll be so bold as to add, I had to trek through for a bloody hour since I couldn't dock my ship right out in public and allow myself a walk that would have only taken me a few minutes-"

"Where did you make berth?" 

"'Fraid I don't have the pluck to tell you that, mate.  What with the little law monger here, who would more than like pass the information on to his lord and saviour the Admiral.  No offense to you two of course, I'm sure you did your best raising him-" Bill bristled.

"LAW MONGERER, am I?  I'll have you know-"

"What is it with you lot and interrupting me before I can finish speaking?" Jack asked, annoyed. Bill opened his mouth to continue speaking, but Elizabeth cut him off.

"Well, as it's getting on in the evening, I'm sure you would be looking for a place to sleep, Jack?"  Bill looked at his mother like she had just asked Jack to take him on the Black Pearl itself.  Rebecca looked like Christmas had just come early.

"Can Captain Sparrow stay here, Mother?"

"NO!"

"I wasn't asking you, Bill!  Shut up!"

"I'll have you respect your elders, you brat!"

"Elder my foot, you're my brother and what's more, you're only six years older than me!"

"That affords me status!"

"STATUS?!  You want to know what I think of your STATUS-"

Bill and Rebecca continued arguing.  Will and Elizabeth raised their eyes to the ceiling as if praying for some higher power to intervene.  Jack looked over at the couple and pointed to their children.

"Do they always go on like this?"

"Yes, unfortunately."  Will muttered.  Jack nodded slightly and raised his voice so the two arguing siblings would be able to hear him,

"Well, Elizabeth, as much as I WOULD like to stay-" The two stopped arguing and looked over at Jack.  "I'm afraid I can't.  Best leave town under cover of darkness, savvy?  Though I'm much obliged for your veiled invitation-"

"Nonsense, Jack.  You're soaking wet and have an hour's trek ahead of you.  You'll stay here for the night."  Will said decisively.  Jack blinked and extended his arms.

"Well, that's very nice of you, Will me boy, but I can't just leave in broad daylight all by my onesy.  A noose is the last thing I want around my neck again."

"I'm sure we can afford you some disguise, or if nothing else you can leave tomorrow night.  But Will does have a point, Jack.  You'll be chilled to the bone and will no doubt contract some horrible sickness trying to find your way back to your ship in the dark."

"Well, if you insist then."  Jack said, waving a hand in the air.  Will and Elizabeth looked mildly surprised that Jack had given in so easily.  Rebecca started hopping up and down.

"Yay!  We're going to have a pirate for company!"  Bill wore a look of disgusted defeat.

"Excuse me while I barricade myself in my room."  He muttered, stomping up the stairs to perform said task.

"Now there's just the question of which room you'll be staying in.  We can't have you sleeping in the sitting room after all, it's not proper…"