When A Sparrow Sings Its Last Song
Notes: Okay...I lied. The boy belongs to me. He earns a name in this chapter. Yay for him!! But he's mine! SO back off!! No one else is my character though.
Chapter Two: Dead Men Tell No Tales
"His son?" Elizabeth asked.
"Aye. It has been awhile, hasn't it?" Mr. Gibbs said.
"But he has a son? And he saw the body?" Elizabeth said.
"We couldn't stop him from seeing his father at the shore, could we?" Mr. Gibbs said.
"So what exactly happened?" Will asked.
"Aye. Christopher, why don't you go down and be with your mum?" Mr. Gibbs said. The boy nodded and ran into the ship.
"Poor lad has to pretend not to be sad. But I can see it in his eye. Anyway..." Mr. Gibbs said. He took a seat on an old wooden box by the water and Will and Elizabeth had a seat on a barrel.
"It was a horrible fight out there. The pirates from the East...they wandered into these parts of the waters and didn't like that we were here first. We were just sailing fro Tortuga to here. But they eyed the black sails and knew it was a pirate ship we was sailing. So they attacked." Mr. Gibbs explained. He paused for a moment, a look appeared on his face that made Will curious.
"That didn't happen, did it?" He asked. Mr. Gibbs looked over to him and shook his head.
"Mr. Gibbs...please! Tell us what really happened." Elizabeth said.
"Aye. Alright. But I'm not so sure you really want to know..." Mr. Gibbs hesitated.
"Please. We do. Just tell us." Will said.
Mr. Gibbs stopped to breath a moment. "Aye. Here's what happened."
He took out of his pocket a piece of cork.
"See this? This is from the cork of Jack Sparrow's last bottle of rum. In Tortuga, the crown had calmed. This happened when they heard of Jack Sparrow's return there to live permanently. A week ago, Jack had retreated to the tavern. I met him there. We talked awhile and this mysterious looking fellow walks in. Jack says something like 'Hide under the table...don't forget the rum!' but before he could get there, the man comes over..wearing a dark cloak over himself. He pulled out his cutlass and..." Mr. Gibbs paused. Elizabeth and Will were so engulfed in what he was telling them.
"What?" Elizabeth asked, afraid to hear it, but needed to for reassurance.
"The man slaughtered Jack. There was no body left for us to bury. The whole tavern was a bloody mess. People were running out as fast as they could. But I stayed there under that table. I couldn't move. Jack Sparrow was long gone with the first slice of the cutlass across his chest. He fell to the floor in to a heap of body. He was obviously dead, but that wasn't enough for the man. He cut the head...then the arms...then the legs...it was a terrible sight to see. He took the head. And the arms and legs. Left nothing but the torso. He just walked out with a head, two arms and two legs. And no one said anything. I came out from under that table and I carried his torso to the stable. But young Christopher was there with his mother. They both saw it. Scarred for life they were." Mr. Gibbs stopped there. The frightened look upon Elizabeth and Will's faces made him. Elizabeth fainted and fell off of the barrel. Mr. Gibbs stood up and limped away as quickly as he could. Will stared over at the ship. He wondered who the mother of Jack Sparrow's son was. He felt how terrified she must have been to see the father of her child in that state. Even more, he felt the anger of not knowing who this mysterious man was.
Leaving Elizabeth where she was, he made his way to the ship. It was quiet, whispering the tales of the dead. He heard the faint sound of speaking from a deck below. He opened the door to the Captain's quarters and saw a young woman sitting by the window of the ship. Christopher sitting on the floor by her side. He turned his head to look at Will as he entered the room.
"Ma'am?" Will said. The woman made no reply. The boy sat by the chair. He must have been no older than four or five years old.
"Ma'am?" Will called again.
"She won't answer." Christopher said.
"Why not?" Will asked.
"Every time she speaks she feels the sword." Christopher answered.
"Christopher, is your mother going to be alright?" Will asked, stupidly. This little boy couldn't possibly know if she would be alright. But surprisingly the boy answered.
"No."
"How do you know?" Will asked, gently.
"He said she wouldn't." Christopher said.
"Who did?" Will asked.
"The man who killed my father." Christopher explained.
" How do you know he was the one who killed your father? He could have been telling you a tale." Will said.
The boy stood up and stared at Will.
"Dead men tell no tales."