Chapter Six-Jack
After spending a good hour in Tortuga talking to Gibbs and getting some bare supplies for the evening, Catherine, Will, and Jack headed back to the Interceptor for the night. Catherine was in a very bad mood after the conversation she'd just heard; Will was smart enough not to say anything to her and Jack was too drunk to say anything to anyone. When they were back on board, the three went to their separate cabins for the night. After an hour or so of tossing and turning, however, Catherine gave up on sleep and went above deck. She sat there on the railing just in front of the helm, legs dangling, watching the peaceful night sky disappear into the sea. Despite the circumstances which brought her to this point, she realized that this moment she spent gazing at the stars above the open sea, alone, with her hair blowing in the soft ocean wind was the best moment of her entire life. There were many things that brought her here, and much that she would still have to do, but at this single second in time, she was independent and absolutely free. And then Jack decided to wake up.
Her perfect moment was gone the second the pirate came up on deck after sleeping off the ale. At the sight of him she remembered the things he had said to Gibbs and seeing him swagger carelessly across the ship did not improve her current attitude towards him. She scowled as he approached her.
"Lovely night, eh darlin'?"
"Lovely for who? I'm sure you're enjoying it, about to get a crew to go after your precious ship with you and handing over Will to get it." Jack squinted as if trying to listen hard to what she had just said.
"What was that?"
"You heard me. No more of your deceit, Jack, what exactly is going on with my sister and how is Will involved." Catherine crossed her arms at sat staring at Sparrow, waiting for an answer, when Jack shrugged.
"Oh alrigh' then. You wanna know, so I'll tell ye. Yer sister has been taken by a crew o' cursed pirates. They took Aztec treasure wi' a curse put on it by heathen gods, and they will remain cursed until they return every bit o' the treasure to the stone chest it came from on an island that no one can find unless they already know where it is and e'er person involved in the takin' has to pay a blood price. I'm assumin' that yer sister had the last piece o' the gold." Catherine shook her head, unprepared for this easy flow of information, especially information that was this bizarre. She hadn't even expected Jack to tell her anything, much less all that. After taking a moment to let it all sink in, Catherine spoke.
"Wait, how is Elizabeth supposed to pay the blood price? She's not a pirate, our mother died in England and our father is definitely not a pirate. I don't understand."
"Ah," said Jack, smiling as he raised his eyebrows and tilted his head towards the girl. "That be the trick, righ' there. Elizabeth can't pay the blood price. The filthy curs got the wrong person. She be about the right age as the person they do need and I'd imagine she gave them a different name than 'er own." Catherine's face grew paler as realization dawned on her.
"Let me guess: the name would be Turner. Will's father wasn't really a blacksmith, was he? That's why he was only in Port Royal for three years out of Will's life, why he always kept his sleeves rolled down. He didn't want anyone to see he was a pirate, to discover the brand. That's why he died that day. He knew they were coming and didn't want them to get him. He killed himself." Jack practically danced at Catherine's response.
"Very good, love. Ye're quite good at this pirate thing, ye know.smart. Will's father was Bootstrap Bill Turner, one o' the crew o' the Black Pearl when they took the treasure."
"I still don't understand something," the girl said with a puzzled look on her face as her hair whipped around her head in the night breeze. "Why wasn't Will's father with the rest of the crew, why did he leave? And how exactly are you involved in this? Why are you so keen on chasing after the Pearl?" Jack's good mood slowly died down as she looked inquisitively at him, waiting for a response. He suddenly was much more sober than Catherine had seen him since they left Port Royal. He crossed his arms and stared at the deck.
"That's a tale for another night, love." As Catherine watched the pirate sitting there, lost in his own thoughts, she saw a side of him that she hadn't before. All of the sudden he was no longer a pirate, a drunk, or a mad man; he was a man who had been wronged, who had lost something and was filled with longing to get it back. She turned back to the stars, wondering who exactly this man was and not slightly troubled at the slight twinge that had risen in her chest at the sight of him sitting there looking so grieved and desperate. Hours passed as the two sat there staring into the night sky and the sea, each deep in their own thoughts, but each still slightly thinking of the other. As day was breaking Catherine, who had fallen asleep, awoke and went groggily back to her cabin. Jack, however, was still wide awake and more than a little uneasy. He watched the sleepy woman disappear below deck and thought back to the day of his trial and a girl who was staring at him from the crowd. That girl seemed so different from this spitfire he found himself stuck with, they couldn't be the same.
"But then why did ye tell 'er all that, Jack?" he muttered to himself as he absentmindedly stroked his beard. "That's it, ol' boy," he said as he hauled himself off the deck, "ye've finally gone completely mad."
At noon the three left the Interceptor to find their new makeshift crew lined up on the pier and Gibbs smiling widely, obviously very proud of himself. Minutes later they were all aboard the fastest ship in the Caribbean blazing a trail to the dreaded Isla de la Muerta, with Captain Sparrow smiling happily at the helm. It was a wide assortment of strange people that made up this new crew of Jack's; there was a dwarf, a mute whose parrot spoke for him, and a woman whose ship Jack had stolen, to mention a few. They were surprisingly efficient, though, as Gibbs promised, and 'crazy to boot'. You had to be crazy to follow a madman like Jack on a suicide mission like this. They made excellent time. Part of the reason for that, like everything else, was attributed to Jack. He wouldn't even allow the crew to take in the sails during a horrific storm. He made quite a picture, Jack did, standing braced against the wind and rain, one hand on the helm, another clutching his unique compass, and a look of elation on his face. Catherine wondered at this man who would pass out drunk under a table to avoid confrontation one day and would face a hurricane the next. He puzzled her greatly, and it became a personal quest of hers to learn the truth of Captain Jack Sparrow.
The next day, after the storm had subsided and they were getting close to their destination, Catherine told Will what Jack had told her that night outside Tortuga. She hesitated to tell him about his father, but, to her relief, Jack had already told him that part of the story. They both agreed that they needed to find out Jack's role in the tale, so they went to the only person they could think of: Gibbs.
"Mr. Gibbs, I wonder if we could have a word with you, please?" asked Catherine as she and her friend approached the scruffy sailor.
"Why certainly, Miss Catherine. What might I be able to help ye with?" he replied, only too glad to talk to the spirited and charming young lady. She and Will then told Gibbs everything they had been told, and asked him where Jack came into play. The older man sighed as he sat down on a nearby bucket. "There's a lot ye don' know 'bout Jack Sparrow, and most of it goes back to the Black Pearl." He then told the pair how Jack had been captain of the Pearl, and how the crew led by Barbossa mutinied and marooned Jack before they went on to Isla de la Muerta. Catherine gasped as she thought about the captain left alone on an island for three days with nothing but a single shot pistol, his ship and crew taken from him. She looked up at the man swaggering behind the helm, and began to understand. She at least understood why he came across as mad half the time. She suddenly felt a new appreciation for Jack Sparrow; he, after all, was not so different from her. They both lived their lives with one goal in mind: hers was freedom in the form of escape; his was freedom in the form of his stolen ship.
"How did he escape from that island?" Will, who was still embedded in conversation, asked. Gibbs was in the midst of telling some far fetched tale about a raft made of sea turtles when Jack's voice rang out over the ship:
"Throw out the anchor, men. Welcome to the Isla de la Muerta!"
After spending a good hour in Tortuga talking to Gibbs and getting some bare supplies for the evening, Catherine, Will, and Jack headed back to the Interceptor for the night. Catherine was in a very bad mood after the conversation she'd just heard; Will was smart enough not to say anything to her and Jack was too drunk to say anything to anyone. When they were back on board, the three went to their separate cabins for the night. After an hour or so of tossing and turning, however, Catherine gave up on sleep and went above deck. She sat there on the railing just in front of the helm, legs dangling, watching the peaceful night sky disappear into the sea. Despite the circumstances which brought her to this point, she realized that this moment she spent gazing at the stars above the open sea, alone, with her hair blowing in the soft ocean wind was the best moment of her entire life. There were many things that brought her here, and much that she would still have to do, but at this single second in time, she was independent and absolutely free. And then Jack decided to wake up.
Her perfect moment was gone the second the pirate came up on deck after sleeping off the ale. At the sight of him she remembered the things he had said to Gibbs and seeing him swagger carelessly across the ship did not improve her current attitude towards him. She scowled as he approached her.
"Lovely night, eh darlin'?"
"Lovely for who? I'm sure you're enjoying it, about to get a crew to go after your precious ship with you and handing over Will to get it." Jack squinted as if trying to listen hard to what she had just said.
"What was that?"
"You heard me. No more of your deceit, Jack, what exactly is going on with my sister and how is Will involved." Catherine crossed her arms at sat staring at Sparrow, waiting for an answer, when Jack shrugged.
"Oh alrigh' then. You wanna know, so I'll tell ye. Yer sister has been taken by a crew o' cursed pirates. They took Aztec treasure wi' a curse put on it by heathen gods, and they will remain cursed until they return every bit o' the treasure to the stone chest it came from on an island that no one can find unless they already know where it is and e'er person involved in the takin' has to pay a blood price. I'm assumin' that yer sister had the last piece o' the gold." Catherine shook her head, unprepared for this easy flow of information, especially information that was this bizarre. She hadn't even expected Jack to tell her anything, much less all that. After taking a moment to let it all sink in, Catherine spoke.
"Wait, how is Elizabeth supposed to pay the blood price? She's not a pirate, our mother died in England and our father is definitely not a pirate. I don't understand."
"Ah," said Jack, smiling as he raised his eyebrows and tilted his head towards the girl. "That be the trick, righ' there. Elizabeth can't pay the blood price. The filthy curs got the wrong person. She be about the right age as the person they do need and I'd imagine she gave them a different name than 'er own." Catherine's face grew paler as realization dawned on her.
"Let me guess: the name would be Turner. Will's father wasn't really a blacksmith, was he? That's why he was only in Port Royal for three years out of Will's life, why he always kept his sleeves rolled down. He didn't want anyone to see he was a pirate, to discover the brand. That's why he died that day. He knew they were coming and didn't want them to get him. He killed himself." Jack practically danced at Catherine's response.
"Very good, love. Ye're quite good at this pirate thing, ye know.smart. Will's father was Bootstrap Bill Turner, one o' the crew o' the Black Pearl when they took the treasure."
"I still don't understand something," the girl said with a puzzled look on her face as her hair whipped around her head in the night breeze. "Why wasn't Will's father with the rest of the crew, why did he leave? And how exactly are you involved in this? Why are you so keen on chasing after the Pearl?" Jack's good mood slowly died down as she looked inquisitively at him, waiting for a response. He suddenly was much more sober than Catherine had seen him since they left Port Royal. He crossed his arms and stared at the deck.
"That's a tale for another night, love." As Catherine watched the pirate sitting there, lost in his own thoughts, she saw a side of him that she hadn't before. All of the sudden he was no longer a pirate, a drunk, or a mad man; he was a man who had been wronged, who had lost something and was filled with longing to get it back. She turned back to the stars, wondering who exactly this man was and not slightly troubled at the slight twinge that had risen in her chest at the sight of him sitting there looking so grieved and desperate. Hours passed as the two sat there staring into the night sky and the sea, each deep in their own thoughts, but each still slightly thinking of the other. As day was breaking Catherine, who had fallen asleep, awoke and went groggily back to her cabin. Jack, however, was still wide awake and more than a little uneasy. He watched the sleepy woman disappear below deck and thought back to the day of his trial and a girl who was staring at him from the crowd. That girl seemed so different from this spitfire he found himself stuck with, they couldn't be the same.
"But then why did ye tell 'er all that, Jack?" he muttered to himself as he absentmindedly stroked his beard. "That's it, ol' boy," he said as he hauled himself off the deck, "ye've finally gone completely mad."
At noon the three left the Interceptor to find their new makeshift crew lined up on the pier and Gibbs smiling widely, obviously very proud of himself. Minutes later they were all aboard the fastest ship in the Caribbean blazing a trail to the dreaded Isla de la Muerta, with Captain Sparrow smiling happily at the helm. It was a wide assortment of strange people that made up this new crew of Jack's; there was a dwarf, a mute whose parrot spoke for him, and a woman whose ship Jack had stolen, to mention a few. They were surprisingly efficient, though, as Gibbs promised, and 'crazy to boot'. You had to be crazy to follow a madman like Jack on a suicide mission like this. They made excellent time. Part of the reason for that, like everything else, was attributed to Jack. He wouldn't even allow the crew to take in the sails during a horrific storm. He made quite a picture, Jack did, standing braced against the wind and rain, one hand on the helm, another clutching his unique compass, and a look of elation on his face. Catherine wondered at this man who would pass out drunk under a table to avoid confrontation one day and would face a hurricane the next. He puzzled her greatly, and it became a personal quest of hers to learn the truth of Captain Jack Sparrow.
The next day, after the storm had subsided and they were getting close to their destination, Catherine told Will what Jack had told her that night outside Tortuga. She hesitated to tell him about his father, but, to her relief, Jack had already told him that part of the story. They both agreed that they needed to find out Jack's role in the tale, so they went to the only person they could think of: Gibbs.
"Mr. Gibbs, I wonder if we could have a word with you, please?" asked Catherine as she and her friend approached the scruffy sailor.
"Why certainly, Miss Catherine. What might I be able to help ye with?" he replied, only too glad to talk to the spirited and charming young lady. She and Will then told Gibbs everything they had been told, and asked him where Jack came into play. The older man sighed as he sat down on a nearby bucket. "There's a lot ye don' know 'bout Jack Sparrow, and most of it goes back to the Black Pearl." He then told the pair how Jack had been captain of the Pearl, and how the crew led by Barbossa mutinied and marooned Jack before they went on to Isla de la Muerta. Catherine gasped as she thought about the captain left alone on an island for three days with nothing but a single shot pistol, his ship and crew taken from him. She looked up at the man swaggering behind the helm, and began to understand. She at least understood why he came across as mad half the time. She suddenly felt a new appreciation for Jack Sparrow; he, after all, was not so different from her. They both lived their lives with one goal in mind: hers was freedom in the form of escape; his was freedom in the form of his stolen ship.
"How did he escape from that island?" Will, who was still embedded in conversation, asked. Gibbs was in the midst of telling some far fetched tale about a raft made of sea turtles when Jack's voice rang out over the ship:
"Throw out the anchor, men. Welcome to the Isla de la Muerta!"