Not All Treasure is Silver and Gold
A/N: I don't know the exact time that POTC takes place so I'm guessing 1667.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Chapter Two:
After sitting in calm waters for two days, everyone has gotten bored waiting for the wind to pick back up and take us out of the Spanish Main. I have nothing to do except wish that our weatherman, namely Cotton and his parrot, would be correct once in a while. Why hasn't someone like Gibbs taken over?
'He used to be able to predict the weather a week beforehand,' everyone told me. Well, now the fact that he's old hasn't taken effect on his 'weather predicting' powers?
I sigh. I'm being too hard on the crew but that's what a captain has to do. I can't be like I used to be, trusting everyone I see. I can trust Gibbs, who is now my first mate, because I've been through a lot with the old man.
"Captain," Anamaria says, coming into my view. "Cotton says that the wind should pick up in an hour or two."
"That's what he said an hour ago," I mumble. She smiles and sits next to me.
"You have to trust him," she says. "He's done us no wrong."
I don't reply to her and continue to pray that the wind will soon pick up. There is no telling when or where the Royal Navy will be now that we have been idle for two days. They could be right behind us and not moving could mean all of us hanging from the gallows that I know too well.
I think too much. I do. I keep thinking of all the worst possibilities of being idle and usually I don't. I usually the one who is carefree and has no care in the world. Maybe I should go back to that and stop thinking.
"The wind is pickin' up, Captain!" Gibbs yells.
"You know what to do, Gibbs!" I yell back. Turning to Anamaria, I say, "Get back to work."
She nods and walks away and I'm left alone again standing at the wheel. "Raise the anchor on port side!"
Two crewmembers, whom I have yet to learn their names, do as I say and I smile. I've got my ship and I've got my freedom again. What more could I want? A simple life? Nope; I can't have a simple life because I'm a pirate. I haven't always been a pirate. I haven't always been a drunken fool. I used to be like Will Turner, well not a blacksmith, but you get the point.
When I am sailing, I usually don't like to relive my past but seeing Will, the son of my old pal Bootstrap Bill, makes me want to so bad. So I am!
I was born on August 16th, 1667 to a wealthy merchant and a lovely housemaid. Or at least that was what everyone told me. They always told me that my parents died when I was about two and it left me with an old servant woman who was known as Bertha. Others have told me that I was an ugly baby and that was the reason I never knew them. Who knows? I haven't seen or heard from either of them for many years and I have no care in the world to meet them.
Bertha was a kindly old woman, probably 35 when I was given to her; she had graying brown hair and she was a chunky woman. She wasn't fat nor was she skinny. She had meat on her bones but she was beautiful. She was married once but was widowed when her first born was born. Her husband took the child and left, only to die of some deadly disease. She told me that they brought back both her husband and child so she could identify them and she almost died of horror.
She wouldn't go into detail about anything else about her husband and son, who she named James. Why is it that every other English boy is named William or James? It confuses me to no end. At least I was named Jack.
Bertha would teach me things that I wouldn't be able to learn in school. The teacher would tell Bertha that I couldn't be taught or that I was scruffy looking and she doesn't teach 'scruffy-looking' children. Bertha would always tell the teacher, very kindly of course, that the only reason I was scruffy looking was the fact that I was born scruffy looking.
'He looks like a dog!' the teacher would tell Bertha.
Bertha would never lose her temper. 'He does not, ma'am. He is just unique.'
No matter what Bertha said, I would always have to leave two hours before school ended and go back to Bertha. The teacher would always send me out before we got to Math and English. I knew some English and a few words in French, seeing as Bertha is half-French and she said that my father was French. Bertha taught me Math, English, and French so well that I surpassed the children in the school. We had a lot of time on our hands.
Then came the year when I turned fifteen. Bertha had died of a nasty disease in which the doctors had told me that I was lucky that I hadn't died as well because I was always near the woman. I guess I was lucky but after that, I had no luck anymore. I was always been called a thief and always kicked out of peoples homes. I didn't have a nice warm bed to sleep in anymore, no halfway decent meals anymore. I didn't have any of the luxuries that I had grown up with.
I remember walking down to the docks and being intercepted by a man with an overgrown beard and a peg leg. I thought he must've done something really bad if he had a peg leg and a nasty look on his face. He brushed past me but he had stopped to watch me. I had taken a man's coin purse right out from under his nose and he didn't know it was me. I had to get some food because if I hadn't eaten, I would've starved to death.
As I walked to the nearest tavern, filled with wenches and sailors, the same man stopped me before entering and pinned me against the wall.
"What's yer name, boy?" he asked, quickly. It was difficult to understand anything he said.
"Jack," I replied, shaking like a leaf.
"What's yer last name?"
"Sparrow."
"Jack Sparrow, eh?" I nodded. "You're a thief?"
I nodded again. "I ain't got no home or nothin'."
He looked around and whispered, "You like sailin, Sparrow?"
I shrugged. I had never been on a ship before but I had always wanted too. Bertha always had told me never to go to sea because pirates sailed the waters of Port Royal and they never left any survivors, unless they were slaves.
"Never been sailin'?" I shook my head and he hauled me through the crowd that had gathered to unload the ship that was bringing passengers from England to the colonies on the islands. "Now yer gonna be a sailor, boy. You is gonna be on my ship, The Pearl, and you is not gonna say nothin' to anyone, ye hear?"
I nodded, sheepishly. Part of me was excited; the other part of me was frightened. He slung me over his shoulder so he could carry me easier and I watched people look at us. I guess it looked as if this man was kidnapping me but who would care? I had been alone without anyone for three months, stealing and begging from people to keep myself alive.
Once we were on the docks, I turned my head around to see the ship that this man owned. It was beautiful! It's the same ship I commandeer today, only thing is that I changed the name and got it fixed. I had to fix it again after Barbossa used it. I fell in love with it right then and there.
The man stopped, putting me back on the ground, and saying something in French (I had forgotten all the French I had learned because I had not spoken a word of it ever since Bertha died. I told myself that if I said anything in French, I would be reminded of Bertha.) A rope ladder came tumbling down the side of the ship and the man motioned me to climb it after he did.
I did as told and was amazed at the detail that was put into making this ship. The sails were gray-ish blacks and there was no flag. I wondered if this ship was a French merchant ship or a naval ship. I wondered if I was going to England to be sentenced as a thief but then again, if I was to be sentenced, it would've been done while on the island.
"Sir?" I said, softly as I finally got on the deck. "Are you taking me back to England?"
The crew had heard me and started to laugh. I didn't know because the captain hadn't informed me of where we were going. I wanted to say something to the crew but then they probably would've killed me. The man grabbed a hold of my arm and dragged me below to the Captain's Quarters.
"I ain't takin' you back to England, you pathetic whelp," he said, angrily. "I couldn' tell you where we is goin' because there are naval officers ev'rywhere. I needed a good thief for my crew and you seemed like a good one. You have some good skills, boy. You want to be a pirate?"
A pirate?! Was this man insane? If the Navy caught me, I would be hung and I didn't want to die like that. What would happen if I said no I didn't want to be a pirate? Would he kill me? Would he let me life for a week or so then kill me?
"Yes," I replied. I guess my mouth said the thing that my mind was having the hardest to comprehend. "Yes. I want to be a pirate."
* * * * * * * * * *
I come back from remembering the day I became a pirate on The Pearl as this ship was once named and smile. I haven't thought about that day for so long that I was beginning to forget everything. I also smile as the picture of Bertha comes back to my mind. I missed her so much after she died but when I had to provide for myself, missing her didn't seem like an option. The option was to find food and shelter for myself.
"Captain Sparrow, we have a problem."
My head shoots up. "What?"
"We have a hole in the hull," Anamaria says, softly. "Gibbs is takin' care of it now. It's a minor hole, nothin' to worry about."
I sigh. Great, a hole in my ship. "We should stop somewhere and get it fixed but a shipyard."
"But Captain, that'll cost a lot of money. Money that we don't have!"
"Fine. Gibbs is fixin' it correct?" she nods. "If it breaks loose, we'll have to stop."
She nods. "A'right, sir. I'll tell him."
I watch her leave and I turn the wheel so that the ship is heading south, towards Kingston. At least in Kingston I'm not known as a pirate. I'm known as Jack Sparrow.
A/N: I don't know the exact time that POTC takes place so I'm guessing 1667.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Chapter Two:
After sitting in calm waters for two days, everyone has gotten bored waiting for the wind to pick back up and take us out of the Spanish Main. I have nothing to do except wish that our weatherman, namely Cotton and his parrot, would be correct once in a while. Why hasn't someone like Gibbs taken over?
'He used to be able to predict the weather a week beforehand,' everyone told me. Well, now the fact that he's old hasn't taken effect on his 'weather predicting' powers?
I sigh. I'm being too hard on the crew but that's what a captain has to do. I can't be like I used to be, trusting everyone I see. I can trust Gibbs, who is now my first mate, because I've been through a lot with the old man.
"Captain," Anamaria says, coming into my view. "Cotton says that the wind should pick up in an hour or two."
"That's what he said an hour ago," I mumble. She smiles and sits next to me.
"You have to trust him," she says. "He's done us no wrong."
I don't reply to her and continue to pray that the wind will soon pick up. There is no telling when or where the Royal Navy will be now that we have been idle for two days. They could be right behind us and not moving could mean all of us hanging from the gallows that I know too well.
I think too much. I do. I keep thinking of all the worst possibilities of being idle and usually I don't. I usually the one who is carefree and has no care in the world. Maybe I should go back to that and stop thinking.
"The wind is pickin' up, Captain!" Gibbs yells.
"You know what to do, Gibbs!" I yell back. Turning to Anamaria, I say, "Get back to work."
She nods and walks away and I'm left alone again standing at the wheel. "Raise the anchor on port side!"
Two crewmembers, whom I have yet to learn their names, do as I say and I smile. I've got my ship and I've got my freedom again. What more could I want? A simple life? Nope; I can't have a simple life because I'm a pirate. I haven't always been a pirate. I haven't always been a drunken fool. I used to be like Will Turner, well not a blacksmith, but you get the point.
When I am sailing, I usually don't like to relive my past but seeing Will, the son of my old pal Bootstrap Bill, makes me want to so bad. So I am!
I was born on August 16th, 1667 to a wealthy merchant and a lovely housemaid. Or at least that was what everyone told me. They always told me that my parents died when I was about two and it left me with an old servant woman who was known as Bertha. Others have told me that I was an ugly baby and that was the reason I never knew them. Who knows? I haven't seen or heard from either of them for many years and I have no care in the world to meet them.
Bertha was a kindly old woman, probably 35 when I was given to her; she had graying brown hair and she was a chunky woman. She wasn't fat nor was she skinny. She had meat on her bones but she was beautiful. She was married once but was widowed when her first born was born. Her husband took the child and left, only to die of some deadly disease. She told me that they brought back both her husband and child so she could identify them and she almost died of horror.
She wouldn't go into detail about anything else about her husband and son, who she named James. Why is it that every other English boy is named William or James? It confuses me to no end. At least I was named Jack.
Bertha would teach me things that I wouldn't be able to learn in school. The teacher would tell Bertha that I couldn't be taught or that I was scruffy looking and she doesn't teach 'scruffy-looking' children. Bertha would always tell the teacher, very kindly of course, that the only reason I was scruffy looking was the fact that I was born scruffy looking.
'He looks like a dog!' the teacher would tell Bertha.
Bertha would never lose her temper. 'He does not, ma'am. He is just unique.'
No matter what Bertha said, I would always have to leave two hours before school ended and go back to Bertha. The teacher would always send me out before we got to Math and English. I knew some English and a few words in French, seeing as Bertha is half-French and she said that my father was French. Bertha taught me Math, English, and French so well that I surpassed the children in the school. We had a lot of time on our hands.
Then came the year when I turned fifteen. Bertha had died of a nasty disease in which the doctors had told me that I was lucky that I hadn't died as well because I was always near the woman. I guess I was lucky but after that, I had no luck anymore. I was always been called a thief and always kicked out of peoples homes. I didn't have a nice warm bed to sleep in anymore, no halfway decent meals anymore. I didn't have any of the luxuries that I had grown up with.
I remember walking down to the docks and being intercepted by a man with an overgrown beard and a peg leg. I thought he must've done something really bad if he had a peg leg and a nasty look on his face. He brushed past me but he had stopped to watch me. I had taken a man's coin purse right out from under his nose and he didn't know it was me. I had to get some food because if I hadn't eaten, I would've starved to death.
As I walked to the nearest tavern, filled with wenches and sailors, the same man stopped me before entering and pinned me against the wall.
"What's yer name, boy?" he asked, quickly. It was difficult to understand anything he said.
"Jack," I replied, shaking like a leaf.
"What's yer last name?"
"Sparrow."
"Jack Sparrow, eh?" I nodded. "You're a thief?"
I nodded again. "I ain't got no home or nothin'."
He looked around and whispered, "You like sailin, Sparrow?"
I shrugged. I had never been on a ship before but I had always wanted too. Bertha always had told me never to go to sea because pirates sailed the waters of Port Royal and they never left any survivors, unless they were slaves.
"Never been sailin'?" I shook my head and he hauled me through the crowd that had gathered to unload the ship that was bringing passengers from England to the colonies on the islands. "Now yer gonna be a sailor, boy. You is gonna be on my ship, The Pearl, and you is not gonna say nothin' to anyone, ye hear?"
I nodded, sheepishly. Part of me was excited; the other part of me was frightened. He slung me over his shoulder so he could carry me easier and I watched people look at us. I guess it looked as if this man was kidnapping me but who would care? I had been alone without anyone for three months, stealing and begging from people to keep myself alive.
Once we were on the docks, I turned my head around to see the ship that this man owned. It was beautiful! It's the same ship I commandeer today, only thing is that I changed the name and got it fixed. I had to fix it again after Barbossa used it. I fell in love with it right then and there.
The man stopped, putting me back on the ground, and saying something in French (I had forgotten all the French I had learned because I had not spoken a word of it ever since Bertha died. I told myself that if I said anything in French, I would be reminded of Bertha.) A rope ladder came tumbling down the side of the ship and the man motioned me to climb it after he did.
I did as told and was amazed at the detail that was put into making this ship. The sails were gray-ish blacks and there was no flag. I wondered if this ship was a French merchant ship or a naval ship. I wondered if I was going to England to be sentenced as a thief but then again, if I was to be sentenced, it would've been done while on the island.
"Sir?" I said, softly as I finally got on the deck. "Are you taking me back to England?"
The crew had heard me and started to laugh. I didn't know because the captain hadn't informed me of where we were going. I wanted to say something to the crew but then they probably would've killed me. The man grabbed a hold of my arm and dragged me below to the Captain's Quarters.
"I ain't takin' you back to England, you pathetic whelp," he said, angrily. "I couldn' tell you where we is goin' because there are naval officers ev'rywhere. I needed a good thief for my crew and you seemed like a good one. You have some good skills, boy. You want to be a pirate?"
A pirate?! Was this man insane? If the Navy caught me, I would be hung and I didn't want to die like that. What would happen if I said no I didn't want to be a pirate? Would he kill me? Would he let me life for a week or so then kill me?
"Yes," I replied. I guess my mouth said the thing that my mind was having the hardest to comprehend. "Yes. I want to be a pirate."
* * * * * * * * * *
I come back from remembering the day I became a pirate on The Pearl as this ship was once named and smile. I haven't thought about that day for so long that I was beginning to forget everything. I also smile as the picture of Bertha comes back to my mind. I missed her so much after she died but when I had to provide for myself, missing her didn't seem like an option. The option was to find food and shelter for myself.
"Captain Sparrow, we have a problem."
My head shoots up. "What?"
"We have a hole in the hull," Anamaria says, softly. "Gibbs is takin' care of it now. It's a minor hole, nothin' to worry about."
I sigh. Great, a hole in my ship. "We should stop somewhere and get it fixed but a shipyard."
"But Captain, that'll cost a lot of money. Money that we don't have!"
"Fine. Gibbs is fixin' it correct?" she nods. "If it breaks loose, we'll have to stop."
She nods. "A'right, sir. I'll tell him."
I watch her leave and I turn the wheel so that the ship is heading south, towards Kingston. At least in Kingston I'm not known as a pirate. I'm known as Jack Sparrow.
