Childhood has an end like all things,
All things good or bad
The years go by as darkness sings
This man was only just a lad.
***
The last words he had hissed, Sometimes I hate you, rung in his ears long after the slam of the door, or the sound of his father's sharply drawn breath.
He left the forge alone, and practiced with the sword, as he did each Sunday evening. Usually he'd stop to make supper, but he didn't this time, too angry, and enjoying his play too fiercely. Near ten, he heard voices in the streets, and considered bolting the door. Near quarter past, he heard the first scream and ran into the street, staring out towards the sea.
Near midnight, he woke up on a ship with black sails, his head stinging fiercely and a voice ringing out Captain! The little whelp's awake!
***
Growing up can take years Can take months Can take seconds Can take less.
***
The man had an eyepatch, proper black with skull-and-crossbones white. He also had a hand made of wormy wood and enough missing teeth to make an ugly leer.
He asked for a name.
"James Turner." He tried to make it defiant and failed miserably.
The man started back. "Will Turner's boy?"
Startled, James nodded without thinking. Someone knew his father's name? Someone. . .a pirate? He had long since decided the tales of the Black Pearl that Will told were no more real than fairies.
The captain was silent a moment, and James looked around. He was in a cage, and across from him in another was a sullen-looking pirate, middle- aged and wearing a hat and torn cotton shirt and breeches. The other man had dark skin and eyes, and from what little James could see of his hair, that too was black.
"Well, you whelp," the captain said, "my name is Eldred but you will call me Captain. You will not be killed - yet - and you will be fed bits and scraps, bread and maybe some meat and any rum we feel like sparing. And if you want to be so good, we could use a hand on deck, even if the hand is clapped in irons to the other."
"On - on deck?" James said uncertainly. He saw the man across from him shake his head a fraction, even though whoever it was was not meeting his eyes.
"Yes, are you deaf? Whatever your father's taught you can be of use, I'm sure."
"My father - you mean about sailing? He hasn't taught me anything."
"Well, in that case, you can stay down here." Eldred vanished quickly, leaving James and the other man alone.
There was a moment of silence in which James slumped against the bars, and then the other man scrambled to them hastily, almost tripping.
"You're IWill Turner'sI son?"
And James started violently, because it was a woman's voice. As he looked closer, he saw that the hat must be holding up her hair, and her face did have a definite feminine look to it.
"Y - yes," he said hesitantly.
"Thank God!" she whispered, and reached her hand out of the bars, about halfway across. "I'm Anamaria. Maybe I'll be saved at last! You being kidnapped is certainly the best thing that's happened to me 'round here."
"What do you mean?" he asked, his face twisting in confusion, not taking her her hand. She withdrew it.
"Well, he'll come to rescue you, won't he?"
James actually laughed at this thought. "My father?" he asked. "My father's a blacksmith, and far too fond of rum for his own good. He couldn't afford a ship for his life!"
"He'll pirate one then!" Anamaria said, as if it were obvious. "And if he's fond of rum, at least Jack's had some influence on him! We expected the three of you to be coming and joining our crew years ago! Jack always kept the ship three people short."
James' face twisted again. "Three?"
"Well, we didn't expect your parents to leave you behind! But your father was always a pirate at heart, and we thought he and your mother'd come see Jack someday, savvy?"
"My mother's dead," James said, his voice flat.
"Dead?" she whispered, leaning against the bars as if to get a better look at his face. "How? When?"
"Eleven years ago," James said, in the same carefully neutral voice, "from some kind of a fever."
"Oh," she said quietly. "I'm sorry. Jack didn't know."
"He hasn't been in touch with my father since I was born."
"Well, o'course he has!" Anamaria said as if the very idea was ridiculous. "He sent letters every ImonthI for years! But your father never responded. Don't know why. Didn't seem to bother Jack all that much."
"My father never got the letters," James said quietly. A doubt lurked in his mind, though - was it possible his father had lied to him, to prevent him from knowing the truth somehow?
"Jack would steal passenger pigeons from the ships we looted," Anamaria said, as if she hadn't heard him, "and wrote the letters, long, they were. Most of us had never known he was lettered. But the pigeons almost always came back, without letters, of course. . ."
"So you. . ." James took a deep breath. "You were one of the crew of the IBlack PearlI?"
"Oh, yes," Anamaria said quietly. "First mate!"
"So won't Captain Jack Sparrow be coming after you in the Pearl?"
Anamaria moved closer, her voice sinking. "You've got to understand this," she whispered. "I know Eldred doesn't seem like a properly savage, stupid evil sort of pirate like you hear about at port, but he's better at it than he looks."
"What does that have to do with my question?"
Anamaria looked blank. "The Black Pearl won't be coming," she said quietly, "because this IisI the Black Pearl."
***
Stealing, drinking, mutiny This is the stuff of a pirate's life Follow the Code and do these things three And you'll be a pirate too.
***
Will Turner stole the first ship that came into Tortouga and pirated it out of the bay by himself.
Jack, he thought vaguely through his half-drunken confusion, would have been proud.
He steered her into the sunrise, following the way they had said the ship had sailed away.
The way the IBlack PearlI had sailed away. With his son.
He couldn't believe that Jack would do that, and so he was headed for a certain island, one where he only hoped the rum was not all gone. One where he hoped Jack Sparrow had not been for long.
One shot.
He cradled the gun in his hand as he steered with the other, trying to comprehend what had happened, and praying that he wasn't wrong.
***
The last words he had hissed, Sometimes I hate you, rung in his ears long after the slam of the door, or the sound of his father's sharply drawn breath.
He left the forge alone, and practiced with the sword, as he did each Sunday evening. Usually he'd stop to make supper, but he didn't this time, too angry, and enjoying his play too fiercely. Near ten, he heard voices in the streets, and considered bolting the door. Near quarter past, he heard the first scream and ran into the street, staring out towards the sea.
Near midnight, he woke up on a ship with black sails, his head stinging fiercely and a voice ringing out Captain! The little whelp's awake!
***
Growing up can take years Can take months Can take seconds Can take less.
***
The man had an eyepatch, proper black with skull-and-crossbones white. He also had a hand made of wormy wood and enough missing teeth to make an ugly leer.
He asked for a name.
"James Turner." He tried to make it defiant and failed miserably.
The man started back. "Will Turner's boy?"
Startled, James nodded without thinking. Someone knew his father's name? Someone. . .a pirate? He had long since decided the tales of the Black Pearl that Will told were no more real than fairies.
The captain was silent a moment, and James looked around. He was in a cage, and across from him in another was a sullen-looking pirate, middle- aged and wearing a hat and torn cotton shirt and breeches. The other man had dark skin and eyes, and from what little James could see of his hair, that too was black.
"Well, you whelp," the captain said, "my name is Eldred but you will call me Captain. You will not be killed - yet - and you will be fed bits and scraps, bread and maybe some meat and any rum we feel like sparing. And if you want to be so good, we could use a hand on deck, even if the hand is clapped in irons to the other."
"On - on deck?" James said uncertainly. He saw the man across from him shake his head a fraction, even though whoever it was was not meeting his eyes.
"Yes, are you deaf? Whatever your father's taught you can be of use, I'm sure."
"My father - you mean about sailing? He hasn't taught me anything."
"Well, in that case, you can stay down here." Eldred vanished quickly, leaving James and the other man alone.
There was a moment of silence in which James slumped against the bars, and then the other man scrambled to them hastily, almost tripping.
"You're IWill Turner'sI son?"
And James started violently, because it was a woman's voice. As he looked closer, he saw that the hat must be holding up her hair, and her face did have a definite feminine look to it.
"Y - yes," he said hesitantly.
"Thank God!" she whispered, and reached her hand out of the bars, about halfway across. "I'm Anamaria. Maybe I'll be saved at last! You being kidnapped is certainly the best thing that's happened to me 'round here."
"What do you mean?" he asked, his face twisting in confusion, not taking her her hand. She withdrew it.
"Well, he'll come to rescue you, won't he?"
James actually laughed at this thought. "My father?" he asked. "My father's a blacksmith, and far too fond of rum for his own good. He couldn't afford a ship for his life!"
"He'll pirate one then!" Anamaria said, as if it were obvious. "And if he's fond of rum, at least Jack's had some influence on him! We expected the three of you to be coming and joining our crew years ago! Jack always kept the ship three people short."
James' face twisted again. "Three?"
"Well, we didn't expect your parents to leave you behind! But your father was always a pirate at heart, and we thought he and your mother'd come see Jack someday, savvy?"
"My mother's dead," James said, his voice flat.
"Dead?" she whispered, leaning against the bars as if to get a better look at his face. "How? When?"
"Eleven years ago," James said, in the same carefully neutral voice, "from some kind of a fever."
"Oh," she said quietly. "I'm sorry. Jack didn't know."
"He hasn't been in touch with my father since I was born."
"Well, o'course he has!" Anamaria said as if the very idea was ridiculous. "He sent letters every ImonthI for years! But your father never responded. Don't know why. Didn't seem to bother Jack all that much."
"My father never got the letters," James said quietly. A doubt lurked in his mind, though - was it possible his father had lied to him, to prevent him from knowing the truth somehow?
"Jack would steal passenger pigeons from the ships we looted," Anamaria said, as if she hadn't heard him, "and wrote the letters, long, they were. Most of us had never known he was lettered. But the pigeons almost always came back, without letters, of course. . ."
"So you. . ." James took a deep breath. "You were one of the crew of the IBlack PearlI?"
"Oh, yes," Anamaria said quietly. "First mate!"
"So won't Captain Jack Sparrow be coming after you in the Pearl?"
Anamaria moved closer, her voice sinking. "You've got to understand this," she whispered. "I know Eldred doesn't seem like a properly savage, stupid evil sort of pirate like you hear about at port, but he's better at it than he looks."
"What does that have to do with my question?"
Anamaria looked blank. "The Black Pearl won't be coming," she said quietly, "because this IisI the Black Pearl."
***
Stealing, drinking, mutiny This is the stuff of a pirate's life Follow the Code and do these things three And you'll be a pirate too.
***
Will Turner stole the first ship that came into Tortouga and pirated it out of the bay by himself.
Jack, he thought vaguely through his half-drunken confusion, would have been proud.
He steered her into the sunrise, following the way they had said the ship had sailed away.
The way the IBlack PearlI had sailed away. With his son.
He couldn't believe that Jack would do that, and so he was headed for a certain island, one where he only hoped the rum was not all gone. One where he hoped Jack Sparrow had not been for long.
One shot.
He cradled the gun in his hand as he steered with the other, trying to comprehend what had happened, and praying that he wasn't wrong.
