Thanks to all you cool reviewers!!!!!!!
Fever
Anamaria was left to rest; her duties refused to her. Jack had gone back to the Faithful Bride for drink and company.
Gibbs went into Jack's cabin to check on Anamaria. Gibbs entered to find Anamaria sleeping on Jack's bunk. Gibbs noticed something in the dim light that was streaming through casement windows. Beads of perspiration were developing on Anamaria's brow. Carefully, the long-time sailor put a hand to the dark lass' forehead. It burned under his hand.
"Fever," he murmured. "Jack had better be returnin' soon."
Two hours later Jack Sparrow came stumbling up the gangplank.
"Cap'n," Gibbs began.
"Good morrow to ye, Mr. Gibbs! Or is it good eve'n'?" Jack looked up
at the dimming sky. "It's good eve'n'!" he announced.
"Cap'n," Gibbs repeated.
"You know Gibbs, the oddest things have been happenin.' Scarlet
forgave me, but when she offered her room, I had no inclination of
goin.' When I was talkin' with 'er earlier I kept getting' distracted,
and fidgety feelin' like I should be somewheres else."
"Jack!" Gibbs cried, impatiently.
"What?"
"Anamaria has developed a fever."
Jack stiffened and rushed to his cabin, his once askew steps now
forming a straight line.
When Jack reached Anamaria's side he felt her forehead. "Right on it, Mr. Gibbs, a fever she does have." Jack straightened up from Anamaria's bedside. "You interviewed every part of the crew afore signin' them on. Any of 'em have any basic medicinal trainin'?"
"None."
"Not even Mr. Cotton's parrot?"
"I'm afraid not, Jack."
Jack crouched down and thought for a moment by Anamaria's side. Absently, or maybe not so absently, he began to softly stroke her sweaty forehead.
"Uh . . Cap'n?"
"Hmm?"
"What shall we be doin' 'bout Anamaria?"
"We're goin' to find a doctor," was Jack's reply.
"In Tortuga?"
"No, of course not. If a doctor was set up at Tortuga he would be swamped with drunk patients and prostitutes with a problem. No, mate we're goin' to the respectable island of Carraway.
Dr. Emmet Brown* sat in his office checking his schedule. He sighed
and took off his spectacles in order to wipe his eyes. At reaching the
age of sixty, he felt its effects.
He was what you considered a revolutionary doctor. He never used
leeches in his practice, holding firm to his belief that it made the
patient worse instead of better. Dr. Brown also was a firm believer in
the consumption of many fruits and vegetables.
Eating all these healthy foods had warded off the blow of age until
now. Sighing again he leaned forward at his desk and took out his
quill pen to mark his appointment with the spectacle-maker.
Suddenly the door to his office opened with a loud bang. He heard the
sound of a pistol being cocked. When he looked up he found himself
staring down the length of a pistol barrel.
"Hello, mate."
*For my own amusement I used Doc Brown's name from Back to the Future, one of my favorite trilogies!
Fever
Anamaria was left to rest; her duties refused to her. Jack had gone back to the Faithful Bride for drink and company.
Gibbs went into Jack's cabin to check on Anamaria. Gibbs entered to find Anamaria sleeping on Jack's bunk. Gibbs noticed something in the dim light that was streaming through casement windows. Beads of perspiration were developing on Anamaria's brow. Carefully, the long-time sailor put a hand to the dark lass' forehead. It burned under his hand.
"Fever," he murmured. "Jack had better be returnin' soon."
Two hours later Jack Sparrow came stumbling up the gangplank.
"Cap'n," Gibbs began.
"Good morrow to ye, Mr. Gibbs! Or is it good eve'n'?" Jack looked up
at the dimming sky. "It's good eve'n'!" he announced.
"Cap'n," Gibbs repeated.
"You know Gibbs, the oddest things have been happenin.' Scarlet
forgave me, but when she offered her room, I had no inclination of
goin.' When I was talkin' with 'er earlier I kept getting' distracted,
and fidgety feelin' like I should be somewheres else."
"Jack!" Gibbs cried, impatiently.
"What?"
"Anamaria has developed a fever."
Jack stiffened and rushed to his cabin, his once askew steps now
forming a straight line.
When Jack reached Anamaria's side he felt her forehead. "Right on it, Mr. Gibbs, a fever she does have." Jack straightened up from Anamaria's bedside. "You interviewed every part of the crew afore signin' them on. Any of 'em have any basic medicinal trainin'?"
"None."
"Not even Mr. Cotton's parrot?"
"I'm afraid not, Jack."
Jack crouched down and thought for a moment by Anamaria's side. Absently, or maybe not so absently, he began to softly stroke her sweaty forehead.
"Uh . . Cap'n?"
"Hmm?"
"What shall we be doin' 'bout Anamaria?"
"We're goin' to find a doctor," was Jack's reply.
"In Tortuga?"
"No, of course not. If a doctor was set up at Tortuga he would be swamped with drunk patients and prostitutes with a problem. No, mate we're goin' to the respectable island of Carraway.
Dr. Emmet Brown* sat in his office checking his schedule. He sighed
and took off his spectacles in order to wipe his eyes. At reaching the
age of sixty, he felt its effects.
He was what you considered a revolutionary doctor. He never used
leeches in his practice, holding firm to his belief that it made the
patient worse instead of better. Dr. Brown also was a firm believer in
the consumption of many fruits and vegetables.
Eating all these healthy foods had warded off the blow of age until
now. Sighing again he leaned forward at his desk and took out his
quill pen to mark his appointment with the spectacle-maker.
Suddenly the door to his office opened with a loud bang. He heard the
sound of a pistol being cocked. When he looked up he found himself
staring down the length of a pistol barrel.
"Hello, mate."
*For my own amusement I used Doc Brown's name from Back to the Future, one of my favorite trilogies!