***Author's note***
Ahoy! First, I want to thank ye all for your kind reviews, they be much appreciated!
I've had time ter write again! Arrr! I stayed home from school today (sick...blah) so I wrote another chapter for ye. Arrr! I'm proud to say that this is the longest chapter I've written so, it could be either long and exciting or long and boring, savvy? Well, it has been a pleasure writin' it so, I hope ye like!
Avast! Today be International Talk Like A Pirate Day! So remember ter talk like a pirate!
And without further talk I present ter ye chapter six…
Chapter 6: Loads Of Lies With a Side Of Growling Stomach
"Jack." I say for what must be the hundredth time. The infamous Jack Sparrow still lies sprawled out unconscious, on the floor. It has to have been at least a half- hour since Jack's not so graceful entrance back into my life.
So far we've been lucky for Port Royal officials have yet to come to the shop to interrogate me on the whereabouts of the wanted pirate. I shake Jack furiously to try and revive him; Amanda has started her poking routine.
I stop shaking him momentarily and cease to make any effort to revive him. I allow the reality of this situation to sink in. He's back. Jack Sparrow is back. What could he possibly be doing here? It's been years since his last visit to Port Royal. After being sentenced to death and nearly hanged, what on earth possessed him to return?
It's hardly safe for him to be here, and he's smart enough to realize that; at least I hope he is. There must be a mighty important reason for him to be here or he never would have put himself in such a risk as death. Of course, he is Jack Sparrow; he may have just felt like taking the challenge.
A small part of me wants to rat Jack out. That small part of me is the part that is afraid Jack may be up to no good; you can never truly trust Jack Sparrow.
Although part of me says to turn him in, something is stopping me from doing so. That something- the fact that my heart knows that he is a good man despite the charges he is guilty of. If it were not for Jack, I may never have gotten Elizabeth back, and if it weren't for Jack, Barbossa would have killed me when he had the chance.
I lower my eyes back down to Jack who remains knocked-out. Amanda continues to prod Jack, growing continually frustrated because he won't wake. I almost laugh out loud but manage to stifle it, knowing that it wouldn't be appropriate to laugh at Jack when he's in this state.
"He must be really sleepy, daddy," Amanda proclaims, I just smile. Only Jack Sparrow could create such an entrance as the one made several minutes ago.
There is a sturdy knock on the door and my heart skips a beat. They're here. The Port Royal officials are here. I feel my blood pressure rise but I manage to keep my composure. There's another knock at the door and then Commodore Norrington calls out to me.
"Mr. Turner, we know you are in there, could you please open the door!" It is an order not a question, and my mind begins reeling. What do I do? My eyes search the room wildly for some sort of option and they fall upon the old closet in the far corner of the room that hasn't been used for years.
"Mr. Turner, open this door please!" The Commodore calls again. What I decide to do is extremely risky, I know it is not the smartest thing to do. It is against the law and if I'm caught-"
The Commodore raps again on the wooden door- frame. Becoming frantic, I finally unfreeze and take action. Hastily, I kneel down on one knee and grab hold of Jack's left arm, draping it over my shoulder. I then lift the unconscious pirate and myself off of the floor and Amanda watches with great interest.
I swagger over to the closet with Jack on my back, arms dangling limply at his side. He is incredibly heavy from his many layers of clothing and vast forms of accessories, so I reach my destination more slowly than I would have liked.
Feeling nervous and very rushed, I quickly swing open the closet door which is filled with dust and cobwebs, and shove Jack into the small space; his response is an unpleasant grunt. I lock the door with one of the many keys that hangs about my key ring, and then quickly inspect the room for anything that might look suspicious.
The Commodore's knocking is pounding in my ears and I swiftly move across the room and over to the door. I'm just about ready to yank it open but first, I stop and turn to Amanda who seems thoroughly confused.
"Darling," I say rather sternly, " whatever you do, do not speak. Daddy needs to handle a few things. Go over there, sit in the chair, and do not move until I tell you to, okay?"
There's another pound on the door.
"Be right there!" I holler, waiting for a response from my daughter. Finally, she nods her head,
"Okay, daddy," she agrees and trots over to the chair I instructed her to sit on.
I wipe my face to clear a coat of sweat and I take a few deep breaths. Then, with one last nervous glance back at the closet, I pull the door ajar to come face to face with a clearly frustrated Commodore Norrington.
"Having a good day, Mr. Turner?" he questions rather sarcastically. I smile nervously but answer boldly.
"As a matter of fact Commodore, I am having a good day, how about you?" I put in my full effort not to let on that I'm hiding Jack. The Commodore shakes his head,
"I am not so well this morning, Mr. Turner. You see, I have been up since the crack of dawn chasing and now attempting to track down a pirate."
It is hard but I manage to keep a straight face, refusing to expose my fear. I then raise an eyebrow and question his statement as though I know nothing of it.
"Pirate, Commodore?"
"Pirate, Turner," he repeats, his facial expression becoming one of suspicion. His eyes begin to survey the room behind me, clearly searching for something. His eyes soon stop searching and become glued to me.
"So, Mr. Turner were you planning on inviting me inside?" A feint smile crosses his lips and I feel my body heat rise again. My mind screams not to let him in but if I don't he'll know for sure that I'm hiding Jack here. Although my mind protests, I open the door wide and invite him inside. The Commodore's somewhat dark and angry eyes light up when he sees Amanda.
"Good morning to you, Miss Turner," he says, removing his hat and taking a bow. Amanda simply returns the gesture with a beautiful smile. Now that his attention is on something else, I steal a glance towards the closet, which remains closed and silent.
The Commodore turns back around to face me and I inhale deeply. There is only silence between us for several moments but I break it by speaking first.
"So, Commodore, may I inquire as to how Mr. Brown is doing?" I casually swerve away from the reason for the Commodore being here. A half smile crosses his face and he nods.
"You may inquire, Mr. Turner and I in return may answer. Mr. Brown has been released from the prison in which he stayed for nearly three hours, and is sentenced to the supreme torture of not being permitted to touch a drop of alcohol for six months." He finishes with a small chuckle and I myself can't help but smile.
"He must have been devastated," I laugh, picturing a Mr. Brown without alcohol for six whole months.
"Oh, he was," Norrington laughs," he was dragged out of the courtroom crying and swearing rather viciously at us all."
The Commodore and I laugh together until our side's ache. Amanda fidgets uncomfortably in her chair, not understanding what exactly is so funny. I then begin to drift, a huge smile pasted to my face, imagining what Mr. Brown's trial must have been like.
The Commodore pulls me back down to earth again with a loud, fake cough, obviously made to get my attention. I look at him and my smile instantly vanishes. Norrington now appears much more serious and his bright smile has become a frown.
"Mr. Turner," he begins, "as enjoyable as this conversation on Mr. Brown has proven to be, speaking to you of his sentence is not the reason for my visit here this morning."
Once more, I feel my body grow hot. This time my blood boils so much that I can feel the steam suffocating me.
"Oh? Then what does bring you here?"
"On the account of a certain pirate who is running about town creating chaos." Norrington answers me abruptly.
"Pirate?" I question stupidly, "there are no pirates in Port Royal." I grow increasingly more nervous.
"As of last night, there are. This morning, a large ship with uniquely black sails, was found tied to one of our main docks. The ship still sits there now and it is clearly a pirate ship. All of the passengers aboard the ship have obeyed the law, and have not stepped onto our shores. There is of course, the exception of one."
As the Commodore tells his story, he curiously studies the room, moving from corner to corner, peeking under work- tables, and looking behind large objects. Amanda looks to me nervously and then continues to follow Norrington with her eyes.
"An exception, sir?" I ask, standing my ground, refusing to give in to high anxiety.
"Yes, Mr. Turner an exception. A pirate, no doubt the Captain of the foreign ship on the docks, has been running wild. He is said to be terrorizing the villagers and stealing food and other items for his crew." Norrington continues his surveillance of the shop and I shift my wait tensely.
"And why have you come here, sir?" I say, questioning the obvious.
"I am here Mr. Turner, because this pirate could be hiding anywhere. We nearly caught him this morning but he got away from us and was last seen running here, toward your shop. He was most likely looking for someone who would voluntarily keep him hidden, someone who would gladly keep him safe."
"What are you suggesting?" I continue to play dumb.
"Mr. Turner," Norrington begins, putting his search on hiatus, " I hate to accuse anyone of anything, especially as good man such as your self. However, I do have reason to believe that you may be hiding the man we are looking for."
I pretend to be shocked by the accusation.
"Commodore Norrington, I guarantee you that I would never provide hiding for a pirate." I make sure to place all of my emphasis on pirate and of course, to add an expression of disgust. The Commodore's eyes widen in surprise.
"Not even for your friend, Jack Sparrow? The two of you were close acquaintances, am I correct?" He continues to put more pressure on me, just waiting for me to break. But, his last comment opened an old wound and I begin to feel more defensive.
"Years ago you would have been correct, sir. Not anymore, though." The Commodore opens his mouth to speak but I keep talking.
"If you are referring to the day that I saved Jack Sparrow's life, I only did it for two soul purposes. The first, being that I felt it to be the right thing to do. He saved my life, he saved Elizabeth's life, and he saved the majority of the Royal Navy." I notice that the Commodore has stopped searching the room and now has his full attention on me.
"And the second reason?" He asks kindly, most likely feeling awful for making me mention Elizabeth, whom both of us cared for deeply.
"The second reason," I continue, "is that I had nothing to live for at the time. I discovered who I really am and for that I was ashamed, and…I thought I had lost Elizabeth forever." I can't believe the words that are flowing out of my mouth. It's actually starting to hurt to relive the events of the past but for Jack's sake, I continue.
"The day I rescued Jack, I was at risk of losing nothing but my own life. A debt I owed to Jack, which I gladly would have paid. But now, I do have a reason for living," I add, actually feeling my eyes tear. I place my arms around Amanda and speak again. "I would rather die than do anything that might jeopardize her safety."
The Commodore is speechless and I can tell he is regretting accusing me of hiding Jack. As for myself, I too feel rotten for lying about hiding Jack but I did what I had to do. If I were to be put to death for my crime, Amanda would be alone and I have to help Jack, I owe him at least this much, he's done so much for me.
Norrington approaches Amanda and I and places a hand on my shoulder, as he always does as a form of solace.
"Mr. Turner, I…I'm dreadfully sorry. I didn't realize that-"
"It is all right." I interrupt; hating it so much that he feels terrible for something that is not his fault.
"I just want to apologize for suspecting you of hiding Sparrow. I will go now, just promise me that if you see or hear anything about Sparrow's whereabouts you will let me know."
"I will." I lie again and feel the cold stab of guilt. He smiles.
"Well, I have a job to do. Finding Sparrow will not be an easy task, so I'd best be on my way."
"Of course," I smile regrettably, "I'll walk you to the door."
I feel absolutely horrible for lying to Commodore Norrington, yet relieved that this who charade is finally over. I walk him to the door as I said I would, and open it so that he may take his leave.
"Well, good day to you, Mr. Turner, Miss Turner. Once more I am sorry for barging in on you like this." He does sound truly sorry and I assure him that it is okay. The Commodore finally turns to leave and I feel my stress descend.
Unfortunately, it isn't over yet because the worst thing that could possibly happen happens. The Commodore then whirls around to face me.
"What was that?" He inquires. My mind immediately begins to generate several explanations to the source of the loud, low, groan that just filled the room.
"Oh, that was…my stomach."
Another loud moan is issued from the closet. Amanda glances in that direction and starts laughing, the Commodore simply looks at me.
"Your stomach." he repeats, his voice monotone.
"Yes, yes, Commodore!" I shout over another groan that erupts from the depths of the shop. Norrington gives me a strange look and I just smile innocently and shrug my shoulders.
"Well, I really should go now," says the Commodore, and with another weird look he exits the shop. "Oh and Turner, he adds, glancing over his shoulder at me, get something to eat. That stomach of yours sounds as though it's alive." With one last smile, he walks off down the street, leaving me a nervous wreck.
Amanda's laughter rings in my ears when I come back inside. A long, low groan is pouring from the closet and there is a loud banging from within. I quickly lock the door and window of the shop, not wanting to take any more chances at being caught aiding Jack. Then I move to the closet door, where I turn the proper key in the lock, and pop the door open.
Jack Sparrow sits scrunched in the corner of the closet, wide awake now, and looking particularly peeved. Amanda stands next to me, gaping at the "funny looking man" in the closet that is closely observing her. Then in turn, he looks up at me.
That fake grin of his spreads across his tanned face and then he speaks to me for the first time in eight years.
"Thank you lad for hiding me but I must request that the next time you choose to do so, you lock me in a bigger closet, savvy?"
I stare dumfounded.
With a long look at what must be a stupid facial expression I'm making, all of his features become consumed by a genuine Jack Sparrow smile and he laughs, clearly amused.
***Author's Note***
Arrr! I have finally gotten ter the point in me story with Jack Sparrow (not unconscious)! If ye didn't like this chap., blame it on me fever. I'll write more a soon as I get the chance, savvy? Thank ye for reading this scary author's note. :)