Chapter 9
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******
My innards in turmoil, I rummaged through the cupboards until I'd found
some matches and lighter fluid. I grabbed a blanket from the futon and headed
out the door, then turned around, went back inside, and grabbed another
blanket, fuming. If he was going to be like that, he probably wouldn't even want
to share a blanket with me. I walked dejectedly back to where we had stacked the
firewood, then stopped in surprise. The bonfire was already lit, and a blanket
was laid out on the sand next to a makeshift driftwood table covered in ready-to-
eat coconuts. Jack was tossing the last of the wood on the fire, but looked up
when he heard my footsteps on the sand. He dusted off his hands and smiled at
me, his handsome, lean face golden in the firelight.
"Ah, you're back. How d'ye like me humble feast?" he asked, sweeping
his arm to indicate the blanket and coconuts. I was tongue-tied for a minute, then
said stupidly,
"You didn't need the matches, did you?" I blushed, realizing too late how
dumb that sounded, but Jack grinned anyway.
"Had me own tinderbox. But I wanted it to be a surprise, savvy?" I smiled
warmly at him, thinking that I had never met anyone sweeter than the pirate in
front of me.
"It's wonderful. Thank you."
"Nae problem, love," he said, plopping down onto the blanket and
stretching out like a cat. I sank down next to him, leaning back onto my hands
and staring wistfully at the fire. "Jack, I can't tell you how glad I am that you're
here. Before you came this was just another vacation, if more boring than most.
Honestly, I think I began to go crazy." Jack shot me a sly, sideways glance.
"Crazy enough to start singin' and cavortin' on the beach?" I looked at
him, mortified.
"You saw that? But you were unconscious!" Jack held up an expressive
finger.
"Semi-concious, love, there's a difference. But soon as I clapped me eyes
on you I knew I'd found the girl for me. What good is life if ye can't sing and
dance if ye feels like it?" Relieved that he didn't think I was completely off the
hook, I laughed.
"Cheers to that, captain!" He sat up so quickly that I jumped, startled.
"Cheers? Where's the rum?!" I was flustered at being caught off-guard by
such an out-of-the-blue question, but I managed an answer after only a few
splutters.
"Um, I guess it's wherever you left it. Why, do you want it?" He stared at
me, as if not quite sure he had heard properly.
"'Course, love. Now you stay put, I'll be back in a jiffy." So saying, he
sprang up and started jogging back to the cabin.
"Will you get me the apple juice while you're there?" I called to him as he
disappeared quickly into the now almost-total darkness.
"Right-o," I heard distantly, then there was silence. I turned back to the
bonfire, fingering the large ring around my neck as I did so. My fingers traced
the braided hair, coming to rest on the knot that held it all together. Love knot, I
thought. That night, sitting on the blanket Jack had worn only hours before, in
front of the fire he had built for my comfort, my stomach full of the coconut he
had fed me, I knew that I would not take off that necklace until the day I died.
I began humming some of my favorite pirate songs while staring at the
flames, waiting for Jack. True to his word, he didn't take long; after a few
minutes I heard him walking back through the palms. He entered the ring of
firelight, three full bottles dangling from his hands. I raised an eyebrow.
"Three, Jack? There was only one before."
"One's yer juice," he said, holding up the identical bottles and scrutinizing
them closely before tossing me one. "And I found another rum this morning.
They must multiply. Interesting."
"Very interesting," I replied, uncorking my bottle. Jack threw himself
down next to me and draped his arm over my shoulder, opening one bottle of
rum as he did so.
"So, love, what's all this about not drinking?" I sighed. I'd known this
would come up sooner or later.
"It's not so much drinking, it's losing control. I just don't like the fact that I
could wake up in the morning with no clue what went on the night before." Jack
nodded sagely.
"I can savvy that. There's nothing worse than knowing you had
outrageous fun but not remembering a second of it." That wasn't quite what I
had meant, but it was close enough. He continued, waving his rum in the air for
emphasis. "But you don't have to get that sozzled, love, if that's a bit too extreme
for ye. Just a mouthful wouldn't do ye any harm." I shrugged.
"I guess not. But what's the point if it's just a mouthful anyway?" Jack
opened his mouth to argue, but I stopped him. "Jack, I know I can't win an
argument about rum with you. Can we just leave it that, for now at least, I'm
drinking apple juice?" Jack's arm squeezed my shoulders affectionately.
"If we must. Now, I've been meaning to ask ye," he said, his arm slipping
lower to encircle my waist, "How is it that you're not afraid to be on this island
with naught between you and an infamous pirate like meself?"
"Well," I said, snuggling up closer to him, "You are Captain Jack Sparrow.
I think whatever risk there may be in hosting a pirate is definitely worth taking if
it means I get to have you around." Jack looked pleased and flattered.
"Why thankee, love, but I didn't mean it like that. I was referring to
pirates in general; 'We pillage and plunder, rifle and loot,' etc. That doesn't faze
ye?" I shook my head, my cheeks brushing Jack's bare chest.
"I can take care of myself. Besides, if I'd been born in the right century I
might've been tempted to be a pirate myself. As it is, I can deal with trouble quite
nicely, thanks." Jack rested his head on my shoulder and spoke softly in my ear.
"What, I'm not trouble?" I ran my hand down his chest, enjoying the
smooth hardness against my palm.
"Of course you're trouble. Just not the kind I want to get rid of."
"I'll drink to that," he said merrily, lifting his head from my shoulder and
holding up his bottle of golden liquid. I held up mine, and we clinked them
together.
"To trouble!" I proposed.
"To dauntless lassies!" he said, and we both tossed back our drinks with a
couple swallows. Suddenly, there was a burning sensation in my stomach, and I
realized that my mouth didn't taste like apple juice. I made a face at the bottle.
"That has got to be the worst juice I've ever tasted," I said. Jack,
meanwhile, was also looking puzzled at his bottle.
"Strangest rum I've ever had. Tastes like ap--" he looked up at me with
dawning comprehension, "--ples," he finished lamely, then gave me a sheepish
grin. "Sorry 'bout that, love. They all look the same. Guess you are drinking after
all, eh?" I smiled ruefully, handing him back the mistaken rum.
"Guess so, but that is quite enough, thank you." I felt a bit light-headed and my
stomach still radiated warmth, but other than that, the rum didn't seem to have done
much damage.
My innards in turmoil, I rummaged through the cupboards until I'd found
some matches and lighter fluid. I grabbed a blanket from the futon and headed
out the door, then turned around, went back inside, and grabbed another
blanket, fuming. If he was going to be like that, he probably wouldn't even want
to share a blanket with me. I walked dejectedly back to where we had stacked the
firewood, then stopped in surprise. The bonfire was already lit, and a blanket
was laid out on the sand next to a makeshift driftwood table covered in ready-to-
eat coconuts. Jack was tossing the last of the wood on the fire, but looked up
when he heard my footsteps on the sand. He dusted off his hands and smiled at
me, his handsome, lean face golden in the firelight.
"Ah, you're back. How d'ye like me humble feast?" he asked, sweeping
his arm to indicate the blanket and coconuts. I was tongue-tied for a minute, then
said stupidly,
"You didn't need the matches, did you?" I blushed, realizing too late how
dumb that sounded, but Jack grinned anyway.
"Had me own tinderbox. But I wanted it to be a surprise, savvy?" I smiled
warmly at him, thinking that I had never met anyone sweeter than the pirate in
front of me.
"It's wonderful. Thank you."
"Nae problem, love," he said, plopping down onto the blanket and
stretching out like a cat. I sank down next to him, leaning back onto my hands
and staring wistfully at the fire. "Jack, I can't tell you how glad I am that you're
here. Before you came this was just another vacation, if more boring than most.
Honestly, I think I began to go crazy." Jack shot me a sly, sideways glance.
"Crazy enough to start singin' and cavortin' on the beach?" I looked at
him, mortified.
"You saw that? But you were unconscious!" Jack held up an expressive
finger.
"Semi-concious, love, there's a difference. But soon as I clapped me eyes
on you I knew I'd found the girl for me. What good is life if ye can't sing and
dance if ye feels like it?" Relieved that he didn't think I was completely off the
hook, I laughed.
"Cheers to that, captain!" He sat up so quickly that I jumped, startled.
"Cheers? Where's the rum?!" I was flustered at being caught off-guard by
such an out-of-the-blue question, but I managed an answer after only a few
splutters.
"Um, I guess it's wherever you left it. Why, do you want it?" He stared at
me, as if not quite sure he had heard properly.
"'Course, love. Now you stay put, I'll be back in a jiffy." So saying, he
sprang up and started jogging back to the cabin.
"Will you get me the apple juice while you're there?" I called to him as he
disappeared quickly into the now almost-total darkness.
"Right-o," I heard distantly, then there was silence. I turned back to the
bonfire, fingering the large ring around my neck as I did so. My fingers traced
the braided hair, coming to rest on the knot that held it all together. Love knot, I
thought. That night, sitting on the blanket Jack had worn only hours before, in
front of the fire he had built for my comfort, my stomach full of the coconut he
had fed me, I knew that I would not take off that necklace until the day I died.
I began humming some of my favorite pirate songs while staring at the
flames, waiting for Jack. True to his word, he didn't take long; after a few
minutes I heard him walking back through the palms. He entered the ring of
firelight, three full bottles dangling from his hands. I raised an eyebrow.
"Three, Jack? There was only one before."
"One's yer juice," he said, holding up the identical bottles and scrutinizing
them closely before tossing me one. "And I found another rum this morning.
They must multiply. Interesting."
"Very interesting," I replied, uncorking my bottle. Jack threw himself
down next to me and draped his arm over my shoulder, opening one bottle of
rum as he did so.
"So, love, what's all this about not drinking?" I sighed. I'd known this
would come up sooner or later.
"It's not so much drinking, it's losing control. I just don't like the fact that I
could wake up in the morning with no clue what went on the night before." Jack
nodded sagely.
"I can savvy that. There's nothing worse than knowing you had
outrageous fun but not remembering a second of it." That wasn't quite what I
had meant, but it was close enough. He continued, waving his rum in the air for
emphasis. "But you don't have to get that sozzled, love, if that's a bit too extreme
for ye. Just a mouthful wouldn't do ye any harm." I shrugged.
"I guess not. But what's the point if it's just a mouthful anyway?" Jack
opened his mouth to argue, but I stopped him. "Jack, I know I can't win an
argument about rum with you. Can we just leave it that, for now at least, I'm
drinking apple juice?" Jack's arm squeezed my shoulders affectionately.
"If we must. Now, I've been meaning to ask ye," he said, his arm slipping
lower to encircle my waist, "How is it that you're not afraid to be on this island
with naught between you and an infamous pirate like meself?"
"Well," I said, snuggling up closer to him, "You are Captain Jack Sparrow.
I think whatever risk there may be in hosting a pirate is definitely worth taking if
it means I get to have you around." Jack looked pleased and flattered.
"Why thankee, love, but I didn't mean it like that. I was referring to
pirates in general; 'We pillage and plunder, rifle and loot,' etc. That doesn't faze
ye?" I shook my head, my cheeks brushing Jack's bare chest.
"I can take care of myself. Besides, if I'd been born in the right century I
might've been tempted to be a pirate myself. As it is, I can deal with trouble quite
nicely, thanks." Jack rested his head on my shoulder and spoke softly in my ear.
"What, I'm not trouble?" I ran my hand down his chest, enjoying the
smooth hardness against my palm.
"Of course you're trouble. Just not the kind I want to get rid of."
"I'll drink to that," he said merrily, lifting his head from my shoulder and
holding up his bottle of golden liquid. I held up mine, and we clinked them
together.
"To trouble!" I proposed.
"To dauntless lassies!" he said, and we both tossed back our drinks with a
couple swallows. Suddenly, there was a burning sensation in my stomach, and I
realized that my mouth didn't taste like apple juice. I made a face at the bottle.
"That has got to be the worst juice I've ever tasted," I said. Jack,
meanwhile, was also looking puzzled at his bottle.
"Strangest rum I've ever had. Tastes like ap--" he looked up at me with
dawning comprehension, "--ples," he finished lamely, then gave me a sheepish
grin. "Sorry 'bout that, love. They all look the same. Guess you are drinking after
all, eh?" I smiled ruefully, handing him back the mistaken rum.
"Guess so, but that is quite enough, thank you." I felt a bit light-headed and my
stomach still radiated warmth, but other than that, the rum didn't seem to have done
much damage.