"Rise and shine."
"Mmph."
"Cocka-doodle-doo."
"Uhmf ummaphzzz…." I flipped my pillow over my head and sighed,
quickly finding rest again.
"I said…" suddenly the pillow was
yanked from my head, "time to get up." I blinked several
times. The sun was still an orange hue, not completely visible yet.
I
rubbed my eyes, ran my fingers through my tangled hair, and turned to look at
my surroundings. Ah, four walls and a Pirate. Four dirty walls and a dirty
pirate, to be exact. I groaned as the events of the previous night dawned
afresh on me. Miss Beasley. Captain Mackay. It was all just too much.
"Well now, are ya gettin' up or do I have to carry ye out of here all by
me onesy?" I slumped up and rolled out of the bed, standing up aside of
Jack Sparrow, who was slipping his jacket on.
"I'm up, I'm up," I mumbled sleepily.
I
put my on boots and laced them up.
"Ya all ready, then?" He was standing next to the door, waiting for
me to finish.
I
nodded "yes" and followed him outside.
Walking alongside him, I could feel my anxiety swelling up within me. What was
I doing?! I still had no answer to this question. I had considered
this for hours last night, rolling it over and over in my head with still no
response.
It
was as if I were possessed. I had just willingly given my life over to him.
Danger? What danger? The thought of deceiving a whole crew of pirates, pirates
who would slit my throat without blinking an eye, all for the sake of one man…
that I hardly knew…. You call that danger? That's not danger. I laugh
in the face of danger! Ha. Ha. Ha.
Was
I insane!?!
"Are ye listenin' to me, Lass?"
"Huh? Oh, yea, sure." Had he been saying something?
"Ok then, pay attention. Your name's Anne Beasley, you went to the Island
of Azul when you were young. You're father 'splained to ya where it is, and
you'll be steerin' us there, savvy?"
"But I don't know where it is," I noted.
"But they don't know that, now do they?"
I
sighed. He was right, they didn't know. But would they still not know when I
lied right to their faces? I wasn't a very good liar. I hoped he realized this.
I
looked up at him with pleading eyes. He knew that I was going with him, against
my will or not, I was going with him. But he still needed to help me out a
little! I helped him fight off those men that were after me! Seems fair that he
would do the same.
"Ok, ok," he smiled knowingly, "I'll do all the talking I can. You just stand
there and look pretty."
That
was better.
************
"There she is." We had made our way
through the town and had finally reached the docks. The Black pearl wasn't hard
to miss. It was anchored out at sea. The Pearl couldn't be tied to the docks
like most boats. It was because she wasn't shallow enough on the draft, but one
would think she was too dangerous to have around other ships. The black sails
set her above all others. She loomed over the waves, like a vulture over the
wounded. Waiting for a victim. Waiting to take any and all life. I felt a
shiver run down my back. Jack turned to me, noticing my sudden chill.
"Beautiful, aye?" Not quite the word I would have chosen.
"This way, Love," He sauntered onto the pier, boots clomping along until
he reached a small rowboat. He turned to me, bowing slightly and reaching out
his hand like a chauffer. I smiled apprehensively, reality finally beginning to
sink in. I may never plant my feet on dry ground again. I took a breath and
grasped his hand. It was calloused but gentle. It helped to calm my nerves.
After I situated myself, and the boat was untied, Jack leapt in. I grimaced as
it swayed, threatening to tip from his impact. He took ahold of the oars and
began to row backwards, aiming straight for the Pearl.
I
watched as the dock became smaller and smaller. My chance of redeeming my
freedom slipping further and further away. Then, turning, I set my gaze for the
Pearl, my self-made prison, coming closer and closer into view. It hovered over
us, casting eerie shadows over the water and our small boat.
Jack pulled up next to the giant ship. Our boat bumped dully against the side
of the Pearl as the waves rose and fell.
"Here ya are," he grasped ahold of the rope that dangled from way
above on the Pearl's deck. He motioned me to take it.
"Here I am what?" I asked, not believing what I was expected
to do.
"Here ya are, climb up," he replied obviously. I followed
the rope with my eyes, from his hand all the way up to the top. It wasn't that
I didn't want to do it as much as I didn't think I was able
to. He motioned again with a look of impatience cascading over his tanned face.
I cautiously took ahold of it and rose to my feet, balancing carefully on the
teetering boat. I didn't even know how to start.
"How…?" I stood dumbly.
"Oh for the sake…." He stood up next to me mumbling in disbelief,
"And I'm supposed to pass you off as a sailor's daughter…" He paid no
attention to the swaying boat that threatened to tip for the second time.
"Here then, get on." He motioned for me to get on his back.
"But… I'm too-"
"Get. On." I obediently climbed onto his back, straddling
his waist with my legs and holding his shoulders firmly with my arms. Our small
boat was being tossed about, but when I was finally mounted securely, he began
the slow climb upward.
I
have to admit; about half way up I felt a combination of sympathy and horror.
In the opposite order of what was listed. I could tell he was tiring, and more
than 50 yards up- the thought of falling was terrifying! We made it aboard
though, and after climbing clumsily over the railing and dropping to the deck
floor, we were met by a man who could be none other than Captain Mackay.
He
was an inch or two taller than Jack, but not incredibly tall. He had full,
curly hair that was pulled back in a low ponytail. The curls seemed to spill
over the edge of the tie that bound them.
He was darker than Jack- more from his origin than from the sun. His blue eyes
pierced me, and the sly smile that formed across his lips sent shivers
throughout me. He was handsome and horrifying all at once.
His
attire differed from Jack as well. Rubies, sapphires and diamonds littered his
neck, wrists, knuckles and ears. His black velvet jacket was open, revealing a
cream colored silk shirt with pearly buttons. His boots were made of the finest
and reflected the early morning sun.
I
stood up wearily next to Jack.
"So ye stayed true," he spoke quietly to Jack, his slight Jamaican
accent cool and collected.
"Did I not say that I would?" Jack retorted, equally as confident.
Mackay turned to me and took my hand.
"I'm very pleased," he paused, studying my hand and then my face,
"to make your acquaintance," he kissed my knuckle and I looked away,
"Ms. Beasley." I nodded in recognition, but mentally, I was screaming
for him to release my hand. With a gentle, but revolting, rub of his soft thumb
across my pinky, he released me.
I
clasped my two hands together; rubbing hard at the place his lips had touched.
He glanced down at my motion that I had no intention of allowing him to see,
and the same wily smile arched it's way across his mouth again. My cheeks
burned hot, but I kept his stare.
His
eyes penetrated my very inner being as I stood my ground. He obviously enjoyed
seeing me uncomfortable. The moment seemed to last forever until Jack spoke up.
"Business," Jack exclaimed. Mackay seemed to jump at the sudden speech. He
turned to Jack, an expression of confusion on his face. "We're here for
business, not a social party."
"Very true."
If looks could kill, Jack would have died
from the look Mackay threw at him.
