Huddled in her bed, Elizabeth would´ve liked nothing better than to do ANYTHING up on the deck. But here she was, avoiding the men she loved. She felt like crying. She wished Annamaria would go down to her room and stroke her hair and make her feel better. But she didn´t. Elizabeth pulled her blanket closer to her and thought, What have I gotten myself into? She fell asleep as Will valiantly rescued the shortest member of their crew from flopping overboard. He didn´t tell anyone, but the water pouring down his face wasn´t just rain.
At dawn, Annamaria and Jack were swabbing the deck, as everyone had fallen asleep. They decided to play a drinking game make the job more fun.
"How´s about you, Anna, whenever ya find a fishy-wish that´s either dead or alive, you have to take a drink. Whenever I wring out my mop, I take a drink," suggested Jack, his kohl-smeared eyes bloodshot and threatening to close and never open again. He belched.
"Jack, that´s the dumbest thing I´ve ever heard of." Annamaria tried to suppress a yawn. She hadn´t slept in almost a day. She acted tough but she longed to curl up in her bed and sleep until they reached Tortuga. She smirked, though. "I´ll take you up on it."
They took off up and down, and Annamaria didn´t find any fish but gave Jack all the more reason to get even drunker. "Why don´t we have it that you take a drink whenever you mop at the deck?"
"Ace idea, dear Anna," Jack replied. Then he looked out at the coast. "Mother of pearl! ´Ere ´s Tortuga!" He peered at the coastal town; it looked oddly normal in the daylight. He´d only been in Tortuga at night.
"Aye," Annamaria exclaimed, not sure how to respond to that. "Shall I take her in, Captain?"
"Brilliant," Jack answered.
Tortuga was unnaturally calm. Jack strode onto one of its docks and paid the drunken harbormaster for anchoring the Pearl in the bay. Annamaria was instructed to never leave Elizabeth´s side; God forbid she finds the seedy, yet seductive, nightlife that Tortuga was famous for.
As he lazed down the main dirt road, he spotted his old friend Mick with a heavily made up woman he assumed was a whore standing outside one of the sixteen taverns the main road advertised.
"Mick!" Jack called out.
Mick turned, brandished a dagger, then smiled. "Captain Jack Sparrow!" Mick was a wiry, scruffy man with grizzled gray-brown shaggy hair and a frizzled beard. He wore a simple, unbuttoned shirt and breeches. His woman had a red dress on with fancy shoes. Mick ambled over and grasped Jack in a manly hug. "What brings ya to Tortuga?"
"Do I need a reason?" grinned Jack. He nodded at the presumed whore. She smiled, showing off semi-rotted teeth. Apart from that she was quite fit-looking. The breasts! The hair! The creamy light brown skin! Jack thought of Elizabeth just then and felt slightly guilty.
"Aye, true enough." Mick put his hands on his girl´s waist. "Layla, this is Captain Jack Sparrow. Jack, Layla. My wife."
Layla shyly curtsied at Jack, who kissed her hand. "Enchante, mademoiselle." Layla giggled and said something to Mick. She´s French, Jack realized. A slave stowaway on a ship to freedom only to land in the clutches of a horny overseas merchant, maybe. Quite smashing though. He tried out all the French he knew. "Comment ca va? Uh. . . la mere de mon amie Annamaria est. . . missing."
Layla laughed again and looked to Mick to translate. When he did, Layla slowly advanced to Jack´s side. He felt a familiar tightening in his trousers. "Peut-etre nous. . ." she breathed in his ear, then she looked at Mick again.
"Could help," finished Mick.
"Could help," echoed Layla. She cleared her throat and said in a hysterical French accent, "We can sail with you." She went back to Mick.
"What´s your mission? To find her?" Mick said, nipping at Layla´s neck.
"And murder her captors," added Jack.
"Remarkable! Just th´ thing I do ta get me kicks. But really, I´ll gladly join ye, mate," Mick told Jack.
"Delightful!" Jack exulted. "The Pearl´s anchored at the dock." He clapped Mick on the back. "Get yer effects and go aboard as soon as possible, savvy?"
"Layla don´ need nothing much, we´ll be there soon enough," Mick said."
Layla smiled benignly. Jack grinned at her and said, "Ta for now." and went off to alert the Black Pearl´s crew.
Annamaria was sleeping in Elizabeth´s bed when Jack found her. Elizabeth was snoozing lightly as well. Jack gingerly tapped Annamaria. She grunted and then popped her eyes open. "Jack!" She thought dimly, What the hell does he want me to do now?
She looks rather sexy right now, Jack observed. Elizabeth, next to Annamaria, rolled over and revealed her shift bunched up around her waist. Luckily (or unluckily depending on who you were), her blanket covered any "naughty" parts. "Uh. . . ´s see, um, yes, well I caught up with an old mate, Mick, and apparently his wife or girl Layla speaks French- useful in Hispaniola, where the natives speak Spanish and French."
"I speak some French," Elizabeth murmured sleepily. Both Annamaria and Jack jumped.
"You do?" Annamaria said incredulously.
"Oui," replied Elizabeth.
"Superb," Jack said. "An´ they´re comin´ aboard!"
"Did you tell them about murdering Ragetti and Pintel?" Elizabeth inquired. Jack itched his nose. "Think so. Can´t remember."
Annamaria nearly throttled Jack. "Y´know, ´s sorta a vital part of the mission!"
"Well once they board we´ll tell ´em!" Jack said. He tipsily saluted the women and swayed up the stairs.
Elizabeth got into a pair of breeches and a muslin shirt. All her father´s, so they were ill-fitting, ergo not constricting.
Annamaria politely went down to the mess hall for breakfast, where heaps of porridge and hardtack were being consumed by hungry, sloppy pirates. Annamaria scooped a spoonful of porridge in her mouth with a bite of a cracker. She felt the need to prove herself as one of the lads but wasn´t about to pour perfectly good food down her shirt.