Many thanks to you fine reviewers! Its people like you who make FFN fun.
Braveheart------ I'm really sorry to hear your grandfather has passed away. When my grandfather died, I found playing the piano or writing was good release for heartache. Thanks for your encouraging words and hope you get through this hard time.
Imp-------hey, thanks for all your help, seriously. I just hope I can aid you in your fanfics as much as you're aiding mine. Till later.
Rat------Anyway, your review made me laugh. Well, by killing off Jane and making Kathy very young, I'm hoping to avoid a "Mary-Sue" label. The story concept may be a little cliché, but I intend to add enough originality to entertain the readers. Thanks again.
Elf-Vulcan-----Interesting screen name, I like. Anyway, thanks for saying that it's well-written. That really made me happy.
One thing to say for New York: it never got as bad as Tortuga. Pirates often came to port at that city, and as long as they kept a low profile the authorities tended to look the other way. Simple reason was that the city needed money. So, cheaper goods were always welcome, legal or otherwise. Besides, you couldn't always tell a man was a pirate just by looking at him. Unless, of course, he was abnormally rich. Gentlemen of fortune, then, had the run of less respectable neighborhoods. Unfortunately, with the passing of time and changing of governors, authorities had been tougher of late.
Jack found himself on a modest street. Little houses walled it like ill-built birdhouses, each contorted into the small space between its neighbors. Almost, in fact, like they were pushing each other for room. Dogs, cats, rats, street urchins, mud, carts, feces, other pedestrians, and random drunks sprinkled the avenues. He was glad to notice several taverns, but, sadly, it was only nine in the morning and most weren't opened yet. Besides, the really good pub in town was "The Sign of the Horse Head," and Jack wasn't anywhere near it.
After meandering up and down the streets Jack discovered the city had changed a great deal since his last visit. It seemed best to avoid a long walk and simply ask where he was. On the other side of the street and elderly woman manned a cart of apples. Her open face and honest features assured Jack that she would give directions.
The pirate sauntered across the street, approached the woman and begin, "It appears you are familiar with the neighborhood, love-"
"Don't you dare call me 'love' you vile chowder-head!" The little old lady's face contorted into a snarl. Jack stared at her single dirty tooth.
"What are you staring at, you vagabond? Leave or I'll scream!" she shrieked and yanked out a cutlass.
Jack blinked and gestured, "You really don't-"
"Shut up!" She yelled and raised her cutlass higher. People in the streets gave the pair funny looks.
Jack customarily cringed; he had no intention of being stabbed by a psycho old woman.
"I had really hoped you could inform me whether this street meets up with Rodger."
The woman's infuriated, horrible look sort of dissolved into her face.
"Rodger? Eh," she croaked, "yeah, in a few more blocks," she raised her knife again, "Now be off!"
Jack made his way down Rodger's street, munching on the apple he had palmed more from annoyance than hunger. Someone, obviously, had quit trying to pave the street. The mud and free-standing water smelt like an open sewer. Most of the tenements seemed to be held together only by prayer. Ill-clad people scurried down the streets. Most of them ignored Jack or gave him a generous half of the sidewalk.
Jack drunkenly stepped over a sleeping hobo and paused before a tenement. He puts his hands on his hips and peered at it for some moments.
It was an old Dutch house of cracking stone. The steps to the paint less door had disintegrated.
Several boys milled about the front playing dice, a girl of about fifteen juggled two squalling infants. A tiny boy with big eyes curled himself into a step. Jack decided that either their parents had been over-productive or he'd found his place.
His dark eyes darted back and forth until they rested on the girl.
"Would you mind telling me if the master's at home?" He asked in a slurred voice.
"Yes," answered the girl, adjusting one infant on her hip, "what business 'ave you wit 'im?"
"Just an errand, love," he said flippantly and hoped up the 'steps' to the 'door.' It was ajar. Without breaking stride Jack entered.
Inside was a smallish room, taken up mostly by a staircase leading to the second level, and there was a door at the far end leading to the kitchen, perhaps. The room itself was grey and sparse. There only was a bookshelf, a desk, and a man.
This man was, in fact, one of the largest Jack had ever seen. He was simply…big. He had broad shoulders, hands like paddles and a great deal of flab about the middle. However, he was rather well dressed. Especially considering the neighborhood.
The man wrote at the desk, but paused when Jack came in.
The pirate stopped as if to regain his balance. The man studied him from under suspicious eyebrows.
"No worries mate," Jack said with a ghost of a smile, "I'll not be encroaching long on your time."
The man sat down his pen but did didn't take his eyes off Jack.
"Let's get one thing clear, sir," he rumbled from the depths of his chest, "I am not your 'mate,' so don't call me that. You may call me Mr.
Stuyvesant. Secondly, who are you and what do you want?"
"Name's Smith, or Smithy if ye like," Jack responded, sitting on the edge of the desk, "Aye 'ave been informed of a lass named Katherine
Worthing's in your charge. Now, Aye've a letter from her mum, as it were, authorizing me to take her."
Jack pulled up the note and displayed his twin's signature before Stuyvesant's eyes. The big man didn't even blink.
"Worthing, eh? Worthing. Yes, I look after her. But I can't release her to you. It's impossible."
"Impossible?" Jack narrowed his tattooed eyes and leaned forward confidingly, "It appears to be unavoidable, mate-Mr. Stuyvie."
Stuyvesant half snorted. "I promised a gentleman down in Barbados three children to train as servants. Worthing and two others'll be leaving
next week."
"Any three children?" Jack suggested in a slyly.
"No-George, Nelly, and Katherine. They're bonded till the age of twenty-one. It's a good business practice, cheaper than getting slaves." Mr.
Stuyvesant coughed-thundered rather-into his hammer-like fist. He turned with authority to Sparrow, "So, now that you know, you best be leaving."
Jack stroked his mustache and began intently, "Really, Aye can't see much of a problem in merely seeing the girl," his head rose and feel with his inflections, "So, if you would be so kind as to point out where she be, I'll be on my way."
Jack's words were polite, but his tone carried a gritty edge. Mr. Stuyvesant heard it.
"They're not here,' his mouth moved like a box, "they're out workin.' Never git enough money to look out for all of 'em and myself. A man has to eat."
"Certainly," agreed the pirate, glancing at Stuyvesant's ample stomach.
"So you best be off and don't think about waiting here for them," the man waved his quill in Jack's face, "I'll not have visitors haunting my house, reading over my shoulder and the like…"
Jack drew a fist-sized purse from his belt, and fished out a small silver coin. He held the treasure in his palm and held it, beguilingly.
"This ought compensate for your time fairly well enough."
Mr. Stuyvesant started. The sound of wailing baby became very loud. He finally blossomed into a toothy smirk and looked Jack up and down with new eyes.
"I'd say it just covers it," and he snatched the coin. Jack pressed his palms together in an expression of thanks.
By now, the infant's atonal concert reached a crescendo. Mr. Stuyvesant pounded on the desk, "VANESSA! Get in here!"
Jack watched the girl rush in with the infants.
"I thought I told you to keep 'em quiet?"
"I'm trying, sir," she murmured bitterly.
Mr. Stuyvesant threw up his hands, "Just get these bloody noisemakers upstairs and start supper! It's getting on to evening." He shook his head, "can't a man get some peace anywhere?"
The girl flung him an expression of disgust and fled the room. Jack's smile hid behind a bite of the apple. The whole situation appeared somewhat amusing.
Mr. Stuyvesant returned to his papers. Jack strolled about the room, inspected the staircase, peered up the stairs, and watched the sun slowly set from a broken window. He found the whole house abnormally clean for harboring a lot of people.
Jack faced the bookshelf. Dusty, lonely yellow tomes littered it. Most had such titles as, A Exhaustive Commentary on the Life and Times of
James C. Peabody and The Introvert's Progressive Guide to Social Integration. Social Integration?
Jack wondered why the books remained filthy and the rest of the establishment spotless. Obviously, Stuyvie must keep something valuable hidden there, or else he'd have the bookshelf cleaned. Jack innocently reached out and innocuous hand…
"KEEP YOUR FINGERS TO YOURSELF MR. SMITH!" Stuyvesant erupted to his full height.
"I'm terribly sorry but you see I've such a weakness for social integration," Jack said with mock-sincerity. Judging from Stuyvie's reaction, something precious was in the bookcase, if only the opportune moment would come along…
Mr. Stuyvesant grunted and studied Sparrow suspiciously.
The opportune moment, to Jack's annoyance, never came along. Mr. Stuyvesant finished with his papers and stacked them neatly away in his desk. Apparently, he wasn't about to let Jack out of his sight so he merely sat there, watching him out of narrow eyes, not even trying to make small talk.
Sparrow had returned to his perch on the desk. He leaned against the wall and sort of dozed.
It grew gradually darker. Vanessa prepared something that smelt awful in the kitchen. The babies never did shut up. However, Jack soon heard a new noise rushing at the door. Before another second has passed a horde of children packed the room. He'd never seen so many people under twelve in one place. They were all small and young and dirty and noisy. There clothes seemed rather patchy but sufficient, and their eyes darted to and fro like scared rabbits.
Most of the stared at the stranger who had the audacity to recline on Mr. Stuyvesant's desk! They turned and whispered to each other. Jack, however, couldn't help wondering which pathetic orphan was his niece.
Mr. Stuyvesant had been like a statue. Now he was like a bear, standing up and pulling a rod from his desk.
"All right, shut up all of you," he barked. Like magic, a hush fell on the horde. Stuyvesant held out a paddle-like palm, "Now, present your earnings."
One at a time, each child placed a few coins in their master's hand. Having paid their toll, they were permitted to continue to the kitchen. A few kids, unfortunately, had no coins. Stuyvesant promptly boxed their ears and told them to go upstairs, where he'd 'deal with them later.' Also, there was one boy who was either mad or brave enough to whisper in Jack's general direction, "Is he a pirate?"
Mr. Stuyvesant tensed like a deer in the headlights. Then, he swiftly clasped the boy and delivered a few blows. "We'll have no talk of suchfoolishness!" he snarled at the kid and threw him back in line.
Jack, however, curiously scanned for a girl who reminded him of Jane. As the horde thinned out he grew perplexed.
"Look, Stuyvie," Jack said, up starting, "Aye be necessitated to return to my ship-" (it felt good to finally say my ship) "-and Aye still need to see the girl. So, where she be?"
Mr. Stuyvesant blinked his watery eyes. He turned to the few remaining kids, "All right, where is Katherine?"
They stared up at his Goliath form and trembled dumbly.
"Vanessa!" he then shouted.
"What?" answered the girl stalking out of the kitchen.
"Where's Katherine?"
"I know not," Vanessa said quickly and turned away. Mr. Stuyvesant grabbed her by the hair and yanked her back.
"Yes you do. Answer me." He shook her. Jack furrowed his brow at the superfluous force.
Vanessa cringed, "She's in the kitchen. Girl had no money so she came in through the back window."
Mr. Stuyvesant turned red and pushed his victim away. He turned to Jack.
"Satisfied?"
"Oh, exceedingly," Jack assured him, twitching his nose.
Stuyvesant disappeared into the kitchen and, a moment later, reappeared dragging a girl by the arms.
"This man wants to have a chat with you, Katherine," Stuyvesant said thrusting the girl forward.
Jack looked her over. The girl was about six or seven. She was tiny, and her dirty blond hair fell in a thin wave down her back. Freckles splattered her pale-if not dirty-face. Those freckles were the same dark brown of her eyes. Sparrow sought some resemblance to Jane, but found very little other than something about the eyes. Kathy was obviously more a Worthing than a Sparrow.
She'd be dead within a week if I was to bring her with me, Jack decided. There seemed no use in staying, so Jack decided on leaving, but the girl stepped forward before anything else happened.
"Are you my uncle?" she asked innocently. Like the others, Kathy had the scared rabbit look in her eye. However, it was muted by curiosity.
"Aye," Jack responded. This was rather interesting.
"My mum told me about you," she said, fascinated by Jack's outlandish person, "and about the song."
That was very interesting. Jack put the girl up on the desk, much to Stuyvesant's agitation. "What song was that, love?"
"The 'yo-ho' one," Kathy said, a little distracted. She was sitting on the desk! Mr. Stuyvesant would be furious. Jack, however, smiled. So,
Jane was less proper than she'd pretended to be, teaching her child that song. Whatever had dear Henry thought?
"Is this place to your liking?" Jack asked.
"Huh?"
"Do you like it here?" Jack rephrased the question.
Kathy shot a sidelong glance at Stuyvesant. She nodded.
"All right, Mr. Smith," Stuyvesant stepped forward pushing the girl off the desk, "that's long enough. I've got to get the little tikes off to bed."
He grasped her bony arm in one huge hand.
"You are absolutely right," Jack said, nodding and gesturing, "but Aye shall be, in reality, taking this girl with me."
Kathy lit up, but cringed as Stuyvesant tightened his grip.
"As I told you, sir, it is impossible. So, be gone before I have you thrown out." Stuyvesant cast his shadow over Jack. If it was a matter of muscle,
Stuyvesant could make good his threat. The pirate, however, pulled out his purse.
"Those generous people in Barbados must be paying you an awfully lot for these brats, are they not?" Jack began in spiel, going into negotiating mode, "but Aye can give you an awfully lot as well. And what's more, you can then select a forth pathetic youngster to sell off, leaving you with a greater sum than you started with. What do you say, Stuyvie?" Jack had been slowly dropping coins from his purse into his palm, never taking his eyes away from Stuyvesant. The man slowly let go of Kathy.
"Give me the whole purse, and I'll give you the brat."
Jack smiled and nodded a little, "Agreed."
As Stuyvesant ordered Kathy to get her things, Jack put the coins back into the purse.
"But I don't have anything," the girl said.
"That's fortunate," Jack broke in, "we can go now, then."
He began to make for the door but Stuyvesant laid a restraining hand on his shoulder.
"The purse, Mr. Smith."
Jack narrowed his eyes, nodded, "Right."
The pirate tossed the purse onto the desk, took the girl's wrists, and toddled out the door.
Stuyvesant laughed at the foolish man. What could he ever want with that girl? Well, no matter, Stuyvesant had made a good trade. He picked the purse up from the desk and shook it a little. It made a satisfying jingling sound. Smiling, Stuyvesant poured the contents into his palm. And stopped. Blinked. Dropped them down to the floor. Then, in horror, knelt down to reexamine them. That only confirmed Mr. Stuyvesant's fears. The purse was not full of coins but gears removed from clocks!
Jack placed the real bag of coins back into his belt- reflecting that the best trick old William had ever taught him was the slight of hand. Mission accomplished; time for a drink. Not far down the dark street was "the Sign of the Horse's Head," the tavern with the finest rum in New York. Jack, however, suddenly remembered his new shadow.
Kathy followed him at a respectful distance, singing at the top of her lungs. Actually "belting" would have been a better word. The poor dear had absolutely no sense of pitch. Or rhythm. To make it worse, she skipped. Or did something sort a cross between jumping and tip-toeing. Her antics echoed up and down the empty, dark street and Jack cringed every time he heard it. Yes, it was indeed time for a drink.
They came to the entrance of the Horse's Head.
"Just do this one thing for ol' Jack," Sparrow said, setting Kathy on a convenient barrel, "stay right here. Aye'll return in just a few moments."
Jack began turned away, but Kathy grabbed onto his sleeve, "where are you going?"
Jack (sort of) straightened himself out, "right in there, love. Now be a good girl."
He started for the pub again but Kathy didn't let his arm go.
"Do I have to stay here?"
"Oh, for certain. Now, if you could release me shirt…" Jack turned, determined to make it to the door this time.
"UNCLE JACK!!!!" She wailed so loudly a man across the street looked and laughed. Jack stopped still, his eyes got wide and his fingers splayed.
"May I ask you something," he began turning around, "you can stay here, by yourself, on a barrel, for five minuets. Be a big girl now, love, and stay put. Right? Good."
Jack left the barrel again.
"But what if you don't come back in five minuets?" Kathy wailed. Jack ignored her and took quicker strides to the tavern.
"UNCLE JACK!!!" The girl mournfully whined.
"Stow yer weapons" ordered a sign at the tavern's door that everybody ignored.
Ah, dim candles, small windows, and lots of rum. Life was good.
There was a horde of men assembled betting on a cock fight. Jack avoided a crowd and made for the bar. The Horse's Head had mightily large mugs full of the alcohol. Jack was only finishing off his first when a sudden blow to the head sent him wheeling to the floor.
The pirate waited for the world to stop spinning before sitting up, dazed. It appeared a brawl had broken out over the cock fight. The mass of wretches now fought each other with clubs and cutlass and guns and ropes and fists and teeth. The bloody cock itself attacked with spurred talons.
Jack rolled himself to his feet, blinking and trying to focus. He surveyed the fight until he realized that his hat had gone missing. Sparrow searched the tavern seemingly oblivious to the violence surrounding him. Jack finally saw it. He stooped to retrieve it, and a knife lodged in the wood where his head had been.
Having triumphantly recovered his hat and Jack set it lovingly on his head.
"Hey, what's all the ruckus 'ere?!" An authoritative voice slashed through the din. Jack spun around to face the door, where several soldiers in
red had caught the attention of the rioters.
"If any of you throws one more bloody punch…" threatened the captain.
Appear to be serious, for once. Jack thought and looked for a back door.
He found it, and was soon outside in an alley, leaving the sound of Brits gleefully arresting drunks behind.
Now, where I be? He thought, Oh, just go round the block. Bloody kid's still waiting by the door. Dam cock fights. Least I still have me hat.
Jack had a nice, long walk. By the time he got back to the Horse's Head, most of the brawler's were gone. So was Kathy.
Sparrow stared stupidly at the vacant barrel like it had eaten the girl. Then he looked behind it and around it. Interesting. Little girls do not simply run off when you tell them to stay put.
The street was dark and empty, Jack noted. Kathy was quite gone.
Suddenly, a certain atonal voice drifted through the tavern's door. Jack made his unbalanced way to investigate. Grasping the doorframe with one hand, he peered inside. Sparrow's eyes went wide and blank.
The captain and two of his cronies sat in the first stages of drunkenness. And Kathy stood on a table, singing 'Yo Ho Yo Ho a Pirates' Life For
Me!' only she didn't know the words except "yo ho yo ho a pirates' life for me." Thus, she filled up the rest of the verses with "da-da-da-da-da-da-da-
da-da-da-DA-DA-da-da-DA-DA" and every so often stuck in "really bad eggs" or "yo-ho!" It was all painfully off-key and really, really loud. But, the inebriated captain didn't seem to mind.
Jack watched, felt something between horror and fascination.
"Eh, Kathy," he croaked.
The girl whirled around, "Oh, Uncle Jack I was afraid you were dead!"
"I suppose that's why you were singing like that," Jack said flatly, and glanced and the captain. The man had a bit of spittle running down his cheek. He showed little inclination to move. Jack tipped his hat to the group and left the tavern, girl shadowing him.
"Goodbye lass," the captain hiccupped after them.
An onlooker who didn't see Kathy gave Jack a strange look.
"Eh, Kathy," the pirate brought the girl next to him, "next time, when Aye tells you 'don't move,' you don't move. Same exact thing will occur if
I say 'don't make any noise.' Honestly, you must follow my orders. It'll make things considerably easier. Savvy?"
"I thought you was my uncle," said the girl suspiciously.
"I am your uncle, love." Unfortunately.
"But my daddy says only mean people go into taverns."
Wonderful! She was a daddy's girl!
"Kathy," Jack really didn't have a temper but he sensed he'd be developing one very soon, "do us a favor. Don't talk."
The girl followed mutely until they got to the wharf, and she saw Jack's boat.
"Is this your ship?" She asked in awe. Jack hopped into it.
"I should hope not," he responded honestly, untying some ropes. Kathy stayed quiet and watched Jack at work.
"Jump in, love," Jack ordered when he noticed Kathy wasn't doing anything. However, the girl stared dully at the dark water. Her floppy blouse fell limply off one shoulder.
"We don't exactly have all night, darling."
Then, she sighed at length, "I can't swim."
A/N---If you would, tell me how you think I'm handling Jack's character. Badly written characters are a pet peeve of mine, and I hate to be guilty of hypocrisy. Also, I'm not trying to make Kathy any extraordinary girl. She's actually based after kids I baby-sit. What's your impression? Basically, how do you like my story? -----------panther7x