Chapter 3: Between Two Worlds
When her eyes had opened, he had been standing in front of her fingering her medallion. She took his appearance in slowly, still dizzy from her near drowning. He wore a red bandana to keep his long black hair strung with beads away from his face. He had a slight moustache and beard in which he had two braids. His soft, brown eyes outlined in kohl, and the many gold teeth that gleamed when he smiled only added to his unusual appearance.
Quickly, Cat sat up in bed, uncomfortable with his hand hovering so close to her chest.
"Don't touch me!" she cried, trying to keep the panic out of her voice. She pulled the heavy blanket someone had draped over her off, and climbed out of the bed slowly distancing herself from Jack and Anamaria. She darted across the room and flattened herself against the wall. Cat ran her fingers across the surface; it felt unusually rough like the wood was splintering. She turned her head to examine the wall, and found it was rotting through.
'What is going on?' Her mind screamed. Out of the corner of her eye Cat saw Jack lunge for her. She pushed against the wall absentmindedly and it gave way. She fell into a hallway made entirely of the same material. Various doors lined the corridor. Cat got up immediately, hearing Jack and Anamaria's footsteps behind her.
'Hide!' her mind screamed. 'Hide where they can't find you!' She ran to the end of the corridor throwing open the first door that she saw. Closing it behind her she pulled the heavy wooden latch across the lock securing her inside.
The room was stacked with wooden barrels and crates filled with food and bottles of a dark liquid. As she moved to the back, she found wooden chests filled with elegant women's clothing. Cat gasped holding one up to the dim sunlight that was streaming in a single window. The style of the dress had been popular in the 1700s.
'Where am I?' Cat wondered again, fear taking over for panic. Her thoughts were interrupted by footsteps overhead. Sunlight streamed in from the ceiling, and a man's boot appeared directly above her. Slamming the chest closed, she ducked behind a towering pile of crates.
"Where's the rum?" a booming voice slurred.
"Should be 'ere," another slurred voice spoke. A chorus of equally sounding drunken men agreed.
The footsteps were getting dangerously close to her hiding spot.
"Looky what we 'ave 'ear gents," the voice came directly above her. Cat raised her head fearfully. A balding pirate with several teeth missing and grease smeared on various parts of his face, stood over her. He smiled when he saw the look in her eyes.
"Looks like Sparrow's got 'imself a new wench," he growled angrily. More footsteps approached. Three other men peaked over the side of the crates, their appearances not much different from their fellow pirate.
"He can't have it all to 'imself!" one with dirty blonde hair growled.
"Yeah!" the other two agreed. The balding pirate clamped a strong hand on her forearm jerking her upward.
Cat was on her feet trembling, knowing exactly what they wanted with her.
'Help me!' she called out in mind, the words refused to form on her lips. 'Please someone help!'
"Come 'ere wench!" the pirate ordered, jerking Cat toward him. She struggled uselessly to break his grasp.
"I was 'oping that it wouldn't come to this wench," he growled, drawing a knife. Cat's eyes widened, she pulled harder against him. She felt the piercing pain as cold metal sliced through her arm. Warm blood trickled down her arm.
"Now, wench," the pirate spat, "you'll do exactly as we say, or it'll be worse next time." Cat whimpered in response and received a sharp smack from the dirty haired pirate.
"Shut-up wench!" he yelled.
"Now poppet, 'ere gonna 'ave a little fun," the balding pirate announced. "Take your pretty little dress off and let's see what you're 'iding from us." The other pirates snickered.
"Go on poppet," urged the other.
Cat tried desperately to stifle her cries and stop trembling.
'I need to collect myself so I can get out of here,' she told herself. 'There has to be someone who will help me. Oh God please let there be someone.'
"Come on, missy," the balding pirate waved the knife in her direction. "Okay, gents. If she won't do it 'erself, then we'll just 'ave to do it for 'er." This time Cat didn't try to fight back when the knife was pressed against her chest just below her chin. She froze drawing inside herself. Warm blood trickled down her chest and medallion as her dress was torn off of her.
"Just one more layer missy, and you won't be no pretty, little secret anymore." The others snickered behind him, their eyes glowing with anticipation.
The knife had just run over her fresh wound and began to tear at the neckline of her cottony under dress when a sword was pressed against the balding pirate's neck.
"I wouldn't be doing that if I were you," a voice stated. Cat raised her gaze from her hands to the person who now stood in front of her.
"McNally you are supposed to be tending the sails," Jack stated in a sharply pointed tone.
"Y-y-y-yes 'ir, we was doing that, but-"
"But what McNally?" Cat was taken aback by his tone. It was hard, but she thought she heard an underlying sympathy in his voice. "You're fortunate enough that I don't maroon you on some island in the middle of the ocean. All of you! Go above deck now! Now!" he jabbed his sword upward at the hatch they had entered from. He sheathed his sword as he watched the last man close the hatch.
Cat had stood frozen, staring at his softened features, unsure what to think of him.
"Thank you," she managed to whimper, her thoughts confused, before she collapsed on the ground. She felt strong hands lift her and something warm being placed around her. She pulled away sharply as his hand touched the knife wound on her arm. The blanket was pulled from her arm; she saw that blood coated the sleeve of her dress. Lifting her gaze from her arm their eyes met.
Slowly, he brought two fingers up to her chin, and turned her head gently. He muttered something like 'damn 'em' bastards, and spoke softly,
"What's your name luv? Cat remained silent, reluctant to answer him.
"I'll tell you mine name if you tell me yours," he drawled. "That way we're square."
"Catalina Jacqueline Moore," she whimpered, shying away from him.
"Captain Jack Sparrow, luv, and if you want those to 'eal properly, I suggest you let me bandage 'em," he gestured to the cuts on her arm and chest. Swallowing heavily, fighting back tears, Cat nodded slowly.
"Good," he smiled, revealing his gold teeth to her once again.
Putting his hands lightly on her shoulders, he led her to the room that she had woken up in, and sat her down on the bed. The olive skinned woman that had been standing behind him had vanished.
"Just sit still, luv," he ordered, gently, throwing her a wink before he exited the quarters.
Cat glanced sheepishly at the wall she had escaped through, but instead of splintered wood her eyes rested upon a door that opened into the hallway. It blended perfectly with the wall around it.
Slowly, Cat eased herself off of the bed, clutching her arm to her side, being careful not to move it. She closed the door with the hidden handle along the side and ran her fingers along the edges of the door. It could hardly be seen, even this close.
"I told ya not to move, luv," a voice feigning sternness echoed behind her. Cat jumped, startled, and slowly turned.
"Sorry Captain Sparrow, I was just being curious." Her hand was now clutching her arm even harder.
"That's all right, luv. Now come. He gestured to the bed, adorned with silk sheets. It looked comfortable, she wanted to be lost in its folds, to sleep and wake up finding that this was all some kind of weird post-traumatic dream.
He set the bowl and cloths he was carrying on the bedside table, and walked over to where she stood.
"Come on now, luv," he coaxed. Reluctantly, she made her way over to the bed, sitting on the edge of the deep wine colored cloth. Carefully, he drew her arm away from her body rolling up the blood soaked sleeve of her under dress. The wound was not as severe as Cat had first thought.
Jack dipped one of the cloths into a bowl with steaming hot water. Cat drew back from him, afraid of his touch.
"Please don't touch me," Cat hoped she had put enough courage into tone to convince him. Cat's eyes betrayed her. Jack could see in those aquamarine pools the pain, and the fear. Jack took her hands into his, ignoring her weak attempts to pull away.
"Luv, I need to dress 'our wounds, but then we can talk 'bout why you were floating in the water off Tortuga, savvy?" Cat was puzzled by his response.
"I don't remember," Cat breathed. "I don't!" Her brow furrowed in frustration. She waved her arms in anger. She didn't remember anything previous to falling off the dock. Before he almost ra-, she didn't want to think about it. No, never.
"Settle down, luv. Just settle down." He waved his hands in a calming gesture. Despite herself, and what was happening she giggled. He looked so funny just standing there, waving his arms around.
He paid no attention to her giggles and proceeded to wash the cut on her arm. Cat winced in pain, trying to struggle away, her mood rapidly changing. Jack just held her arm steady as he worked, being as fast as possible.
"It hurts! Please, just stop!" Cat cried. "Stop!" she cried again, her voice overrun with panic. With that, he let go. Drawing away from her he rose from the bed and backed onto his desk telling her one last time,
"Luv, if I do not clean those cuts, 'ey will become infected. You will be in sure pain 'en" She could hear a firm tone in his voice that had not been there before.
When Cat said nothing he stumbled sharply to the door, "'ine then, I was only trying to 'elp, but if you do not want to cooperate 'en I suggest you to be ready to 'eave in the morning. I don' t want any unwanted cargo on my ship." With that he slammed the door.
Cat was taken back by his sudden change in attitude. She always knew that pirates were ruthless, selfish, greedy creatures with no compassion for anyone, or so the myths said.
This was all just some horribly real dream. She had probably been knocked unconscious when falling into the water. The dream had been brought on by the incident, and she would wake up and find that this whole thing had been unreal.
Carefully, so she did not move her arm, she pulled back the covers of the bed she had been sitting on. It was stuffed with straw and was uncomfortable to lie on. She pulled the poor excuse for a sheet up to her neck, and closed her eyes. Cat was anxious to sleep. Wasn't it always like that in the movies? When the main character was dreaming, they would go to sleep, and be back in their real lives.
Deep inside of her though, Cat wasn't sure. Did she really want to go back? Her life hadn't been that exciting. Her parents were never home. She didn't have a boyfriend, or a real best friend she could talk to. What was there to go home to?
Cat sighed, turning over. She felt like she was stuck between two worlds. In the end she knew she had to choose only one. It worked that way. But which one to choose?
When her eyes had opened, he had been standing in front of her fingering her medallion. She took his appearance in slowly, still dizzy from her near drowning. He wore a red bandana to keep his long black hair strung with beads away from his face. He had a slight moustache and beard in which he had two braids. His soft, brown eyes outlined in kohl, and the many gold teeth that gleamed when he smiled only added to his unusual appearance.
Quickly, Cat sat up in bed, uncomfortable with his hand hovering so close to her chest.
"Don't touch me!" she cried, trying to keep the panic out of her voice. She pulled the heavy blanket someone had draped over her off, and climbed out of the bed slowly distancing herself from Jack and Anamaria. She darted across the room and flattened herself against the wall. Cat ran her fingers across the surface; it felt unusually rough like the wood was splintering. She turned her head to examine the wall, and found it was rotting through.
'What is going on?' Her mind screamed. Out of the corner of her eye Cat saw Jack lunge for her. She pushed against the wall absentmindedly and it gave way. She fell into a hallway made entirely of the same material. Various doors lined the corridor. Cat got up immediately, hearing Jack and Anamaria's footsteps behind her.
'Hide!' her mind screamed. 'Hide where they can't find you!' She ran to the end of the corridor throwing open the first door that she saw. Closing it behind her she pulled the heavy wooden latch across the lock securing her inside.
The room was stacked with wooden barrels and crates filled with food and bottles of a dark liquid. As she moved to the back, she found wooden chests filled with elegant women's clothing. Cat gasped holding one up to the dim sunlight that was streaming in a single window. The style of the dress had been popular in the 1700s.
'Where am I?' Cat wondered again, fear taking over for panic. Her thoughts were interrupted by footsteps overhead. Sunlight streamed in from the ceiling, and a man's boot appeared directly above her. Slamming the chest closed, she ducked behind a towering pile of crates.
"Where's the rum?" a booming voice slurred.
"Should be 'ere," another slurred voice spoke. A chorus of equally sounding drunken men agreed.
The footsteps were getting dangerously close to her hiding spot.
"Looky what we 'ave 'ear gents," the voice came directly above her. Cat raised her head fearfully. A balding pirate with several teeth missing and grease smeared on various parts of his face, stood over her. He smiled when he saw the look in her eyes.
"Looks like Sparrow's got 'imself a new wench," he growled angrily. More footsteps approached. Three other men peaked over the side of the crates, their appearances not much different from their fellow pirate.
"He can't have it all to 'imself!" one with dirty blonde hair growled.
"Yeah!" the other two agreed. The balding pirate clamped a strong hand on her forearm jerking her upward.
Cat was on her feet trembling, knowing exactly what they wanted with her.
'Help me!' she called out in mind, the words refused to form on her lips. 'Please someone help!'
"Come 'ere wench!" the pirate ordered, jerking Cat toward him. She struggled uselessly to break his grasp.
"I was 'oping that it wouldn't come to this wench," he growled, drawing a knife. Cat's eyes widened, she pulled harder against him. She felt the piercing pain as cold metal sliced through her arm. Warm blood trickled down her arm.
"Now, wench," the pirate spat, "you'll do exactly as we say, or it'll be worse next time." Cat whimpered in response and received a sharp smack from the dirty haired pirate.
"Shut-up wench!" he yelled.
"Now poppet, 'ere gonna 'ave a little fun," the balding pirate announced. "Take your pretty little dress off and let's see what you're 'iding from us." The other pirates snickered.
"Go on poppet," urged the other.
Cat tried desperately to stifle her cries and stop trembling.
'I need to collect myself so I can get out of here,' she told herself. 'There has to be someone who will help me. Oh God please let there be someone.'
"Come on, missy," the balding pirate waved the knife in her direction. "Okay, gents. If she won't do it 'erself, then we'll just 'ave to do it for 'er." This time Cat didn't try to fight back when the knife was pressed against her chest just below her chin. She froze drawing inside herself. Warm blood trickled down her chest and medallion as her dress was torn off of her.
"Just one more layer missy, and you won't be no pretty, little secret anymore." The others snickered behind him, their eyes glowing with anticipation.
The knife had just run over her fresh wound and began to tear at the neckline of her cottony under dress when a sword was pressed against the balding pirate's neck.
"I wouldn't be doing that if I were you," a voice stated. Cat raised her gaze from her hands to the person who now stood in front of her.
"McNally you are supposed to be tending the sails," Jack stated in a sharply pointed tone.
"Y-y-y-yes 'ir, we was doing that, but-"
"But what McNally?" Cat was taken aback by his tone. It was hard, but she thought she heard an underlying sympathy in his voice. "You're fortunate enough that I don't maroon you on some island in the middle of the ocean. All of you! Go above deck now! Now!" he jabbed his sword upward at the hatch they had entered from. He sheathed his sword as he watched the last man close the hatch.
Cat had stood frozen, staring at his softened features, unsure what to think of him.
"Thank you," she managed to whimper, her thoughts confused, before she collapsed on the ground. She felt strong hands lift her and something warm being placed around her. She pulled away sharply as his hand touched the knife wound on her arm. The blanket was pulled from her arm; she saw that blood coated the sleeve of her dress. Lifting her gaze from her arm their eyes met.
Slowly, he brought two fingers up to her chin, and turned her head gently. He muttered something like 'damn 'em' bastards, and spoke softly,
"What's your name luv? Cat remained silent, reluctant to answer him.
"I'll tell you mine name if you tell me yours," he drawled. "That way we're square."
"Catalina Jacqueline Moore," she whimpered, shying away from him.
"Captain Jack Sparrow, luv, and if you want those to 'eal properly, I suggest you let me bandage 'em," he gestured to the cuts on her arm and chest. Swallowing heavily, fighting back tears, Cat nodded slowly.
"Good," he smiled, revealing his gold teeth to her once again.
Putting his hands lightly on her shoulders, he led her to the room that she had woken up in, and sat her down on the bed. The olive skinned woman that had been standing behind him had vanished.
"Just sit still, luv," he ordered, gently, throwing her a wink before he exited the quarters.
Cat glanced sheepishly at the wall she had escaped through, but instead of splintered wood her eyes rested upon a door that opened into the hallway. It blended perfectly with the wall around it.
Slowly, Cat eased herself off of the bed, clutching her arm to her side, being careful not to move it. She closed the door with the hidden handle along the side and ran her fingers along the edges of the door. It could hardly be seen, even this close.
"I told ya not to move, luv," a voice feigning sternness echoed behind her. Cat jumped, startled, and slowly turned.
"Sorry Captain Sparrow, I was just being curious." Her hand was now clutching her arm even harder.
"That's all right, luv. Now come. He gestured to the bed, adorned with silk sheets. It looked comfortable, she wanted to be lost in its folds, to sleep and wake up finding that this was all some kind of weird post-traumatic dream.
He set the bowl and cloths he was carrying on the bedside table, and walked over to where she stood.
"Come on now, luv," he coaxed. Reluctantly, she made her way over to the bed, sitting on the edge of the deep wine colored cloth. Carefully, he drew her arm away from her body rolling up the blood soaked sleeve of her under dress. The wound was not as severe as Cat had first thought.
Jack dipped one of the cloths into a bowl with steaming hot water. Cat drew back from him, afraid of his touch.
"Please don't touch me," Cat hoped she had put enough courage into tone to convince him. Cat's eyes betrayed her. Jack could see in those aquamarine pools the pain, and the fear. Jack took her hands into his, ignoring her weak attempts to pull away.
"Luv, I need to dress 'our wounds, but then we can talk 'bout why you were floating in the water off Tortuga, savvy?" Cat was puzzled by his response.
"I don't remember," Cat breathed. "I don't!" Her brow furrowed in frustration. She waved her arms in anger. She didn't remember anything previous to falling off the dock. Before he almost ra-, she didn't want to think about it. No, never.
"Settle down, luv. Just settle down." He waved his hands in a calming gesture. Despite herself, and what was happening she giggled. He looked so funny just standing there, waving his arms around.
He paid no attention to her giggles and proceeded to wash the cut on her arm. Cat winced in pain, trying to struggle away, her mood rapidly changing. Jack just held her arm steady as he worked, being as fast as possible.
"It hurts! Please, just stop!" Cat cried. "Stop!" she cried again, her voice overrun with panic. With that, he let go. Drawing away from her he rose from the bed and backed onto his desk telling her one last time,
"Luv, if I do not clean those cuts, 'ey will become infected. You will be in sure pain 'en" She could hear a firm tone in his voice that had not been there before.
When Cat said nothing he stumbled sharply to the door, "'ine then, I was only trying to 'elp, but if you do not want to cooperate 'en I suggest you to be ready to 'eave in the morning. I don' t want any unwanted cargo on my ship." With that he slammed the door.
Cat was taken back by his sudden change in attitude. She always knew that pirates were ruthless, selfish, greedy creatures with no compassion for anyone, or so the myths said.
This was all just some horribly real dream. She had probably been knocked unconscious when falling into the water. The dream had been brought on by the incident, and she would wake up and find that this whole thing had been unreal.
Carefully, so she did not move her arm, she pulled back the covers of the bed she had been sitting on. It was stuffed with straw and was uncomfortable to lie on. She pulled the poor excuse for a sheet up to her neck, and closed her eyes. Cat was anxious to sleep. Wasn't it always like that in the movies? When the main character was dreaming, they would go to sleep, and be back in their real lives.
Deep inside of her though, Cat wasn't sure. Did she really want to go back? Her life hadn't been that exciting. Her parents were never home. She didn't have a boyfriend, or a real best friend she could talk to. What was there to go home to?
Cat sighed, turning over. She felt like she was stuck between two worlds. In the end she knew she had to choose only one. It worked that way. But which one to choose?