Chapter 14: Tales of a cabin boy
The stay in Tortuga had been extended by a day, seeing as Gibbs was planning to come along, and had to get rid of several objects he didn't feel were worthwhile to take with him. And if he were to rely on his superstitious ways, he didn't think he'd be coming back from this journey.
The men hadn't questioned the extended stay - most had mistresses on the island, and were pleased for the extra time. Will Jr. didn't actually reappear until several minutes before the original cast-off time, and was then more than happy to disappear for another day. Jamie disappeared at some point as well, after he heard about the extra time, and reappeared, with Will in tow, just as the ship was about to leave. Jack sent both boys to the galley, and set the rest of the crew to work. They'd all been expecting explosions from the two captains, but neither of them had yelled. They hadn't said much of anything.
Down in the galley, both Will and Jamie were suddenly finding it very hard to keep their stomachs down. The smell of the salted meat was particularly strong, and the rising vapors from that night's meal continued toward towards where they were working, mopping the tar onto the floor.
"This is *your* fault, Nine-cat! If ye hadn't run off after that floozy we'd have managed t' find a few better things t' do then play cards an' drink rum 'til we couldnae stand up!" Jamie was in a foul mood - it was just something caused by drunkenness wearing off. Will wasn't faring much better. The smells of the galley were driving him crazy.
"Yeah, well, ye didnae have t' follow me, did ye?" He slopped the tar-covered mop over the floor with a little too much effort, causing the ship's cook to glare at him. The cook wasn't one to speak much, just occasionally yelling for them to get out of his way.
Jamie leaned on his mop, taking a slight break, "'Tis not the point, Nine-cat. Ye shouldnae go 'round by yeself in places like Tortuga - three times men tried t' kill ye last night, an' if I hadnae been there, ye wouldnae be alive at the moment, savvy?" Will stopped as well, and looked down at the still-wet tar on the galley floor. "Savvy - but 'tis easy for ye t' say - no one at Tortuga knows ye, some know ye father, but only in stories. Da is a big part o' Tortuga, an' a lot o' people want him out o' the way. If getting' rid o' me can help 'em, then that's what they'll try t' do."
The cook stopped work, and sent a sharp glare towaeds the two, who both sighed, and went back to work, occasionally sending sharp glances at one another. Recovering from alcohol did not put people in a good mood.
Above deck, one of the crew members, the fifteen-year old cabin boy, was trying to work up the courage to talk to Jack. Finally Jack himself saw the boy's trouble, and walked over to where he was emptying the cooks leftovers. "I heard ye wanted t' ask me somethin', boy." Jack's prompting was more of a statement, and the cabin boy dropped his gaze.
"Aye, sir... two things, actually...." The boy seemed almost afraid to keep talking - Will had found him in Tortuga and offered him a chance to see more of the world. As cabin boy, he was the lowest ranking person on the ship, who usually only took direct orders from the cook. Jack gestured with his hands, "Go on, ask away."
Taking a breath, the boy started, "Well, I was... I was wonderin' why ye didnae yell at the two men who came back last, an' were drunk... ye yelled at ev'ryone else who was late, an' the two men were last o' all." Jack grinned. "Aye, I s'pose ye would be wonderin' 'bout that. Ye see, lad, ;tis no good yellin' at a man when 'e's drunk - it goes in one ear an' straight out the other. But, ye give the man a job where he'll learn somethin' 'bout being late to the ship, and drunk along wi' it, an' that lesson sticks a lot longer. Ye can yell at a drunk man 'til ye end up with a blue face, but a drunk man ain't got any shame, so it don't work. That's why ye ended up 'ere, above deck, an' those two scallywags are down there doin' *your* usual duties, savvy?"
The boy nodded, and dropped his gaze once again. "Aye... I s'pose... I s'pose it's a hard lesson learned, aye?" Jack laughed, "Aye, somethin' like that. An' ye said ye had somethin' else t' ask me?" The boy nodded, suddenly very nervous of the pirate captain. "Do... did... I mean, d'ye think ye have all the information 'bout the Hand o' Midas that ye need?"
This was a question that brought Jack Sparrow up short. What did the kid know about the Hand? Kack leaned in slyly, "Well, one can ne'er have too much information, can he? What can ye tell me 'bout it, lad?" The cabin boy glanced up, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I can do more'n tell ye what I know, Cap'n - at Tortuga they used t' call me Slip-up - meanin' two things. The first was that I was always fallin' inta things, an' bein' a downright clumsy fool, but fallin' o'er things has it's own advantages - people ain't so worried 'bout a pickpocket when they think they're helpin' a clumsy kid, savvy?" At Jack's nod, the boy continued.
"Well, I was in th' bar where you, an' mister Vibbs were talkin', an' I heard him mention the Hand o' Midas. There's only a few reasons ye can hear the same thing mentioned in th' same day by completely different people, an' them reason's ain't so good. I figured I do a bit o' investigatin'. I figured ye were reasonably a good man, seein' as Bootstrap was wi' ye, - he's brought a lot o' business into Tortuga - so I went back t' check th' other guy." The boy stopped at a shout from the direction of the door leading downstairs, and both he and Jack looked to see the cook standing in the doorway looking for him. Jack caught the cook's eye, and waved slightly, causing the cook to look embarrassed and go back underneath.
He turned back to the boy, "Go ahead, lad. Ye went back to the other guy..." The boy nodded, "Aye, an' he's got these pieces o' paper. So I walks up to 'im, an' asks him the usual things, 'can I clean yer shoes, sir?', 'do ye need a hand wi' anything, sir?'. O' course he refuses, an' I turn t' walk away, but I trip o'er a crate lyin' on the path, and land on the guy. 'Sorry, sir,' I says, an' he helps me up, an' sends me on me way. But, he don't know that I now have his papers, an' the Hand o' Midas is a big part o' them papers, Cap'n."
Jack nodded, deep in thought. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to have a pick-pocketing cabin boy on board. "An' what price d'ye want for the papers, lad? I cannae take 'em from ye - even if ye offered - 'tis not right wi' the code, savvy?" The boy had made as though to say something, but looked away instead. "Well," he said after a few minutes, "there is one thing...." Jack nodded, "Name yer price, lad, an' if I can, I will."
Gaining more confidence, the boy looked Jack in the eye, "I want t' learn how t' fight wi' a sword - an' between you an' me, I'd prefer you t' teach me. the last kid Bootstrap was teachin' lost an ear when they weren't even fightin' proper!" Jack laughed, "Aye, we have an accord. I'll teach ye how t' fight proper wi' a sword, an' ye'll give me the papers, savvy?" He held out his hand, and the boy shook it. For such a small boy, he had a strong handshake - strong hands handle strong swords.
*****
"One step, two step, three step... Isabelle, ye must watch where ye be goin', not ye feet!" Elizabeth's voice occasionally lost it's proper accent, slipping into pirate slang. Isabelle couldn't, for the life of her, figure out how women could walk in high-heeled boots - it was a skill far beyond her. Elizabeth was a strict teacher - but then again, she'd grown up in the society. "Try again, and remember, face up - look where you want to go, not where your feet are, ok? One step, small step, three... oh, Isabelle!"
Anamaria walked into the room, still a little hurt from her daughter's comments several days before. "How ye doin'?" she asked, and Isabelle rolled her eyes sarcastically. "I cannae walk if I cannae see my feet, an' if I must look up, I cannae look down! It's impossible! How can a woman walk like this?"
Anamaria laughed, "I don't know 'bout a woman, but yer father wore it once!" Isabelle looked up, surprised, "What? Da? He wore the dress, an' the boots, an' all?" Anamaria shook her head, "Not quite all - he refused t' wear a corset, but aye, he wore the boots, an' the dress, an' the petticoats. But he added a Spanish head-veil t' cover his beard an' hair - he looked a right picture, he did!"
Isabelle laughed, trying to picture her father in a woman's outfit. "Ma'ma... d'ye ever regret not *marryin'* Da when he asked ye?" Anamaria looked at her hands, "No, I don't. 'Cause he's still with me. If I'd married the man, I'd have been hurt when he slept wi' another woman. Marriage is like a hangman's noose - it means ye cannae have anyone else. I didnae want t' put yer father in that position - he takes oaths an' vows ver' seriously, savvy?" Isabelle nodded, then realised she'd done an entire lap of the room without looking down. "Aye, well, p'raps this ain't so hard after all?"
Elizabeth, watching from the side, clapped. "You're getting used to it, Isabelle. It's not so hard, just try to keep your mind off what you're doing, and it's so much easier!" Isabelle stopped suddenly, almost overbalancing, "Then why didn't ye say so in the firs' place?" Elizabeth laughed, and walked over to her. "I think that'll do for today, Isabelle. Tomorrow we'll work on how you speak, savvy?" Even Anamaria couldn't help but laugh when Elizabeth used the pirate term in her noblewoman accent, as Louisa put it.
It took Isabelle very little time to get out of her corset and petticoats, less than it took most women. Which was why she heard what she wasn't meant to hear. She quickly removed the corset, and pulled on the dress Anamaria was insisting she wear around, instead of her usual outfit of loose trousers and shirt, with a darker vest, with a cloth belt around her middle, underneath a thick leather belt - it was much like her father's outfit. At least she was allowed to keep her bandanna on during all times. It was a private joke between her father, and herself, that their outfits were so similar. Even her usual boots and jacket were almost identical to Jack's.
Isabelle had inherited her father's hair, mostly straight, but with a habit of turning into dreadlocks, and when both were decked out in their full outfits - boots, jacket, hat, the whole thing - it was nearly impossible to tell them apart, excepting their height differences. Anamaria always joked she didn't know if it were a gift or a curse.
But walking down the stairs in the dress of Louisa's, barefoot, what she heard stopped her in her tracks.
"The Bermuda Triangle... when we first heard of it, Jack thought it nonsense, but then he heard the stories about the ships lost there. It's a scary place - some people will never get out, and the few who will... I think they've been there too long...." Anamaria paused, and Isabelle let out the breath she'd been holding, but Anamaria wasn't finished.
"Ye do know that Isabelle was born there? She'd heard the stories about the outside, from Jack mainly, and the same with Jamie, only he was born outside, and was too little to remember. Even I missed the outside. The Triangle ain't the most welcoming place - there's always mist, and no matter how clear the sky *feels*, it's always overcast, an' when ye get to land, it feels as though there's water up t' your knees. I didn't want to risk losing anyone by getting out, but they were given an option - stay in the Triangle with the people who were there already, and live forever, or risk it all to try and get back to the real world.
'A lot tried to get out, and a few died. Just like that - they dropped ead. But it's a place I never want to go back to, not 'til hell isn't an option to for me anymore."
At this point, Isabelle stepped into the room. "Ye don't have the right t' talk about it like that, ma'ma! The Triangle treated you right - why can't ye give it the same treatment?" Anamaria jumped up from her seat, shocked, "Isabelle! What are you talking about?" Isabelle felt the tears streaming down her cheeks before she even realized she was crying. "It was my *home*, ma'ma! My *home*! You an' Da had the Pearl, an' Jamie was more'n happy t' go wi' it - but I felt as though I had a place there! I don't have one here - I'm just another face in th' crowd, someone cashin' in on Da's fame!" She found suddenly that her throat was blocked, and she couldn't talk anymore.
Anamaria went to hold her daughter. Leaving the Triangle had been more of a shock for Isabelle than any of them had realized - Jamie, at least, had been bron outside, and didn't feel the same ties to it as did Isabelle. Anamaria made herself a promise - she wouldn't let the Triangle reclaim her daughter.
The stay in Tortuga had been extended by a day, seeing as Gibbs was planning to come along, and had to get rid of several objects he didn't feel were worthwhile to take with him. And if he were to rely on his superstitious ways, he didn't think he'd be coming back from this journey.
The men hadn't questioned the extended stay - most had mistresses on the island, and were pleased for the extra time. Will Jr. didn't actually reappear until several minutes before the original cast-off time, and was then more than happy to disappear for another day. Jamie disappeared at some point as well, after he heard about the extra time, and reappeared, with Will in tow, just as the ship was about to leave. Jack sent both boys to the galley, and set the rest of the crew to work. They'd all been expecting explosions from the two captains, but neither of them had yelled. They hadn't said much of anything.
Down in the galley, both Will and Jamie were suddenly finding it very hard to keep their stomachs down. The smell of the salted meat was particularly strong, and the rising vapors from that night's meal continued toward towards where they were working, mopping the tar onto the floor.
"This is *your* fault, Nine-cat! If ye hadn't run off after that floozy we'd have managed t' find a few better things t' do then play cards an' drink rum 'til we couldnae stand up!" Jamie was in a foul mood - it was just something caused by drunkenness wearing off. Will wasn't faring much better. The smells of the galley were driving him crazy.
"Yeah, well, ye didnae have t' follow me, did ye?" He slopped the tar-covered mop over the floor with a little too much effort, causing the ship's cook to glare at him. The cook wasn't one to speak much, just occasionally yelling for them to get out of his way.
Jamie leaned on his mop, taking a slight break, "'Tis not the point, Nine-cat. Ye shouldnae go 'round by yeself in places like Tortuga - three times men tried t' kill ye last night, an' if I hadnae been there, ye wouldnae be alive at the moment, savvy?" Will stopped as well, and looked down at the still-wet tar on the galley floor. "Savvy - but 'tis easy for ye t' say - no one at Tortuga knows ye, some know ye father, but only in stories. Da is a big part o' Tortuga, an' a lot o' people want him out o' the way. If getting' rid o' me can help 'em, then that's what they'll try t' do."
The cook stopped work, and sent a sharp glare towaeds the two, who both sighed, and went back to work, occasionally sending sharp glances at one another. Recovering from alcohol did not put people in a good mood.
Above deck, one of the crew members, the fifteen-year old cabin boy, was trying to work up the courage to talk to Jack. Finally Jack himself saw the boy's trouble, and walked over to where he was emptying the cooks leftovers. "I heard ye wanted t' ask me somethin', boy." Jack's prompting was more of a statement, and the cabin boy dropped his gaze.
"Aye, sir... two things, actually...." The boy seemed almost afraid to keep talking - Will had found him in Tortuga and offered him a chance to see more of the world. As cabin boy, he was the lowest ranking person on the ship, who usually only took direct orders from the cook. Jack gestured with his hands, "Go on, ask away."
Taking a breath, the boy started, "Well, I was... I was wonderin' why ye didnae yell at the two men who came back last, an' were drunk... ye yelled at ev'ryone else who was late, an' the two men were last o' all." Jack grinned. "Aye, I s'pose ye would be wonderin' 'bout that. Ye see, lad, ;tis no good yellin' at a man when 'e's drunk - it goes in one ear an' straight out the other. But, ye give the man a job where he'll learn somethin' 'bout being late to the ship, and drunk along wi' it, an' that lesson sticks a lot longer. Ye can yell at a drunk man 'til ye end up with a blue face, but a drunk man ain't got any shame, so it don't work. That's why ye ended up 'ere, above deck, an' those two scallywags are down there doin' *your* usual duties, savvy?"
The boy nodded, and dropped his gaze once again. "Aye... I s'pose... I s'pose it's a hard lesson learned, aye?" Jack laughed, "Aye, somethin' like that. An' ye said ye had somethin' else t' ask me?" The boy nodded, suddenly very nervous of the pirate captain. "Do... did... I mean, d'ye think ye have all the information 'bout the Hand o' Midas that ye need?"
This was a question that brought Jack Sparrow up short. What did the kid know about the Hand? Kack leaned in slyly, "Well, one can ne'er have too much information, can he? What can ye tell me 'bout it, lad?" The cabin boy glanced up, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I can do more'n tell ye what I know, Cap'n - at Tortuga they used t' call me Slip-up - meanin' two things. The first was that I was always fallin' inta things, an' bein' a downright clumsy fool, but fallin' o'er things has it's own advantages - people ain't so worried 'bout a pickpocket when they think they're helpin' a clumsy kid, savvy?" At Jack's nod, the boy continued.
"Well, I was in th' bar where you, an' mister Vibbs were talkin', an' I heard him mention the Hand o' Midas. There's only a few reasons ye can hear the same thing mentioned in th' same day by completely different people, an' them reason's ain't so good. I figured I do a bit o' investigatin'. I figured ye were reasonably a good man, seein' as Bootstrap was wi' ye, - he's brought a lot o' business into Tortuga - so I went back t' check th' other guy." The boy stopped at a shout from the direction of the door leading downstairs, and both he and Jack looked to see the cook standing in the doorway looking for him. Jack caught the cook's eye, and waved slightly, causing the cook to look embarrassed and go back underneath.
He turned back to the boy, "Go ahead, lad. Ye went back to the other guy..." The boy nodded, "Aye, an' he's got these pieces o' paper. So I walks up to 'im, an' asks him the usual things, 'can I clean yer shoes, sir?', 'do ye need a hand wi' anything, sir?'. O' course he refuses, an' I turn t' walk away, but I trip o'er a crate lyin' on the path, and land on the guy. 'Sorry, sir,' I says, an' he helps me up, an' sends me on me way. But, he don't know that I now have his papers, an' the Hand o' Midas is a big part o' them papers, Cap'n."
Jack nodded, deep in thought. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to have a pick-pocketing cabin boy on board. "An' what price d'ye want for the papers, lad? I cannae take 'em from ye - even if ye offered - 'tis not right wi' the code, savvy?" The boy had made as though to say something, but looked away instead. "Well," he said after a few minutes, "there is one thing...." Jack nodded, "Name yer price, lad, an' if I can, I will."
Gaining more confidence, the boy looked Jack in the eye, "I want t' learn how t' fight wi' a sword - an' between you an' me, I'd prefer you t' teach me. the last kid Bootstrap was teachin' lost an ear when they weren't even fightin' proper!" Jack laughed, "Aye, we have an accord. I'll teach ye how t' fight proper wi' a sword, an' ye'll give me the papers, savvy?" He held out his hand, and the boy shook it. For such a small boy, he had a strong handshake - strong hands handle strong swords.
*****
"One step, two step, three step... Isabelle, ye must watch where ye be goin', not ye feet!" Elizabeth's voice occasionally lost it's proper accent, slipping into pirate slang. Isabelle couldn't, for the life of her, figure out how women could walk in high-heeled boots - it was a skill far beyond her. Elizabeth was a strict teacher - but then again, she'd grown up in the society. "Try again, and remember, face up - look where you want to go, not where your feet are, ok? One step, small step, three... oh, Isabelle!"
Anamaria walked into the room, still a little hurt from her daughter's comments several days before. "How ye doin'?" she asked, and Isabelle rolled her eyes sarcastically. "I cannae walk if I cannae see my feet, an' if I must look up, I cannae look down! It's impossible! How can a woman walk like this?"
Anamaria laughed, "I don't know 'bout a woman, but yer father wore it once!" Isabelle looked up, surprised, "What? Da? He wore the dress, an' the boots, an' all?" Anamaria shook her head, "Not quite all - he refused t' wear a corset, but aye, he wore the boots, an' the dress, an' the petticoats. But he added a Spanish head-veil t' cover his beard an' hair - he looked a right picture, he did!"
Isabelle laughed, trying to picture her father in a woman's outfit. "Ma'ma... d'ye ever regret not *marryin'* Da when he asked ye?" Anamaria looked at her hands, "No, I don't. 'Cause he's still with me. If I'd married the man, I'd have been hurt when he slept wi' another woman. Marriage is like a hangman's noose - it means ye cannae have anyone else. I didnae want t' put yer father in that position - he takes oaths an' vows ver' seriously, savvy?" Isabelle nodded, then realised she'd done an entire lap of the room without looking down. "Aye, well, p'raps this ain't so hard after all?"
Elizabeth, watching from the side, clapped. "You're getting used to it, Isabelle. It's not so hard, just try to keep your mind off what you're doing, and it's so much easier!" Isabelle stopped suddenly, almost overbalancing, "Then why didn't ye say so in the firs' place?" Elizabeth laughed, and walked over to her. "I think that'll do for today, Isabelle. Tomorrow we'll work on how you speak, savvy?" Even Anamaria couldn't help but laugh when Elizabeth used the pirate term in her noblewoman accent, as Louisa put it.
It took Isabelle very little time to get out of her corset and petticoats, less than it took most women. Which was why she heard what she wasn't meant to hear. She quickly removed the corset, and pulled on the dress Anamaria was insisting she wear around, instead of her usual outfit of loose trousers and shirt, with a darker vest, with a cloth belt around her middle, underneath a thick leather belt - it was much like her father's outfit. At least she was allowed to keep her bandanna on during all times. It was a private joke between her father, and herself, that their outfits were so similar. Even her usual boots and jacket were almost identical to Jack's.
Isabelle had inherited her father's hair, mostly straight, but with a habit of turning into dreadlocks, and when both were decked out in their full outfits - boots, jacket, hat, the whole thing - it was nearly impossible to tell them apart, excepting their height differences. Anamaria always joked she didn't know if it were a gift or a curse.
But walking down the stairs in the dress of Louisa's, barefoot, what she heard stopped her in her tracks.
"The Bermuda Triangle... when we first heard of it, Jack thought it nonsense, but then he heard the stories about the ships lost there. It's a scary place - some people will never get out, and the few who will... I think they've been there too long...." Anamaria paused, and Isabelle let out the breath she'd been holding, but Anamaria wasn't finished.
"Ye do know that Isabelle was born there? She'd heard the stories about the outside, from Jack mainly, and the same with Jamie, only he was born outside, and was too little to remember. Even I missed the outside. The Triangle ain't the most welcoming place - there's always mist, and no matter how clear the sky *feels*, it's always overcast, an' when ye get to land, it feels as though there's water up t' your knees. I didn't want to risk losing anyone by getting out, but they were given an option - stay in the Triangle with the people who were there already, and live forever, or risk it all to try and get back to the real world.
'A lot tried to get out, and a few died. Just like that - they dropped ead. But it's a place I never want to go back to, not 'til hell isn't an option to for me anymore."
At this point, Isabelle stepped into the room. "Ye don't have the right t' talk about it like that, ma'ma! The Triangle treated you right - why can't ye give it the same treatment?" Anamaria jumped up from her seat, shocked, "Isabelle! What are you talking about?" Isabelle felt the tears streaming down her cheeks before she even realized she was crying. "It was my *home*, ma'ma! My *home*! You an' Da had the Pearl, an' Jamie was more'n happy t' go wi' it - but I felt as though I had a place there! I don't have one here - I'm just another face in th' crowd, someone cashin' in on Da's fame!" She found suddenly that her throat was blocked, and she couldn't talk anymore.
Anamaria went to hold her daughter. Leaving the Triangle had been more of a shock for Isabelle than any of them had realized - Jamie, at least, had been bron outside, and didn't feel the same ties to it as did Isabelle. Anamaria made herself a promise - she wouldn't let the Triangle reclaim her daughter.
