Chaotic Jinx, Thank you for the very kind reviews.
MoonbeamDancer, of course you can use my story on your site! ^_^ I'm happy you would even ask for it to be put on your site! Thanks.
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(_)-AN
"_"-Speaking
'_'-Thoughts
~_~-scene change
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A Pirate's Life for me
Part 13- Lost and found
Jack couldn't for the life of him, remember much about what happened through that stormy night. All he could truly remember was a nightmarish flash of light before his eyes as he hit the sea water.
Jack found himself, floating on top of the water. He was laying on his back, with a horrible pain shooting it's way up his arm. Jack's first thought was to see what was the matter with his arm.
He lifted his left arm out of the water, wincing as he felt the pain of his stiff muscles. Blood was stained onto his clothes and a hole was brunt into his shirt.
It was a weird shape. Kind of like a spider's web in shape. He reached over and unbuttoned his sleeve cuff. He rolled it down to see a gashing looking cut on his arm. It was kind of like a lightening bolt running down his arm. It followed along with a vein in his arm.
He winced as he probed his arm in order to survey the damage. It wasn't nearly as bad as he thought it was.
He let his arm fall back into the water. He looked around himself. There was a shore in head of him. He must have floated quite a ways to reach shore just over night. Then again, the storm was horrible. It could have easily tossed him all the way to Africa for all he knew.
He used his good arm to swim to shore. He winced at each stroke. His muscles refusing his persistent use. He groaned as he finally reached shore. He laid down on the beach for a few minutes, trying to catch his breath.
A shadow appeared over him, blocking the sun from view. He opened his eyes and looked up. It was an older man, who looked worn and torn by the weather. His gray hair stuck out of its ponytail. His shirt, dirty and wet at the sleeves. His teeth, rotten almost to the point of falling out.
"You alive?" He questioned to Jack.
"I think." Jack answered back in a hoarse voice.
"Need any help there, lad?" The man questioned. His face somewhat contorted into concern.
"I could use some." Jack answered, not even moving. His muscles refused to move now. They were not only stiff, but sore now. And he was exhausted.
"Can you stand?" The man asked.
"I don't think I can." Jack answered. He tried to sit up, but his stomach muscles cramped like a tight knot, forcing him to stay put. "I can't even sit up."
The man frowned down at him. He put his hands under Jack's armpits, lifting him to his feet. He picked Jack up and carried him towards the small town.
"I'm George, by the way." Said the man.
"Name's Joanathanel." Jack answered. He didn't want to give out his pirate name to any old stranger. No. He would wait with the pirating. First, he needed to get back to the shore of England. He needed to get his things. His bandanna, his book and his letter.
"Awful long name. Mind if I call you Nate?" He questioned.
"Not at all." Jack answered. So, his new name here was Nate. He would have to remember that. Not all that hard to remember, but he would have to learn how to respond to it.
"Why were you washed up on that shore?" George asked.
"Got caught in a storm last night. I fell overboard." Jack answered. He put his head against the man's shoulder. Sleep, felt like a very good idea at the moment.
"Where were you going to?" George asked.
"To England." Jack mumbled.
"Got anything worth some salt on you lad?" George questioned.
"No." Jack mumbled. His eyes fell closed.
George sighed. Just his luck to find a boy who was washed on the shore and didn't have a shilling to his name. He carried Jack all the way to his house. He set the boy down on a spare cot. Then, he saw the blood stained on his arm.
He reached out and rolled up Jack's sleeve to expose the lightening like wound on Jack's arm. George made a slight gasp. Though, a wound such as this is to expected. Jack was, after all, caught in a storm.
George wasn't a doctor, but he happened to know one. He ran off to fetch one.
Jack woke up to the feeling of a light stinging on his left arm. The world was showered in a fuzzy haze and every outline was blurred. The world of color, slowed swirled around his head, allowing him to see a few things.
The first thing he saw was an old man's face, frowning as he concentrated on something on Jack's left. The other was a worried looking George, sitting close by. The room started to go into focus and the sting in his arm grew to enormous heights!
"AHHH!" Jack screamed as he felt the full effects of the wound crashing down on his body. George reached out and pinned Jack to the floor, holding him fast.
"You have to stay still Nate! You'll only make it worse." George said. And for the first time, Jack noticed a slight accent to George's voice. It was clearly a Germen accent, now that Jack thought about it.
The pain came back into focus once more, causing Jack to thrash around, trying to get away from the person causing the pain. Jack kicked his legs, which were protesting to their full might not to be moved, but he didn't care. His arm was hurting worse then his stiff muscles.
"Hold him." Said the old man. His gray beard reached the beginning of his chest. His eyes, worn at a harsh life. Wrinkles developed around his mouth, which was formed into a concerned frown. His brushy eyebrows pushed together in concentration.
George applied more pressure, stopping Jack's arms and upper body from moving, but Jack's legs kept kicking.
"STOP IT! IT HURTS!" Jack shouted. His eyes, squeezed shut with pain. His mind couldn't help but wonder back to the time when his father would beat him. He started to brake out in a sweat and he paled considerable. He started to mumble random things. "Please… no… I'll be good… please… no… stop it… I promise I won't do it again…"
George watched with concerned eyes. "Is he alright?"
The old man stopped soaking the wound, and fetched his wrappings. He then started to bind the wound. "He's a troubled young man. I think it's wise to keep a close eye on him."
"Of course." George said, looking at jack with concern.
"George. I'm worried about you. You know this boy won't replace your lost son." The old man said, looking at George through the tops of his eyes, still binding that wound.
"I know.." George said with a sigh. "He just looks so much like Paul. I can't help but wonder if this is a sign that I could be given another chance at having a son."
The old man finished. Jack had stopped his thrashings and started to whimper in pain.
"I won't charge you for this, since I did owe you a great sum from our last card game. Though, I will ask for pay next time." The old man said, packing up his things. "Please, stay safe."
The old man placed a hand on George's shoulder. "I'll be there if you ever need me."
"Thanks for the help." George said, patting the hand on his shoulder.
The old man gave him a nod before leaving the house. When George heard the door close, he turned his full attention onto Jack.
"Nate. Please, stay calm. Doctor Thomas found out what was wrong with you. You were struck by lightening." George said. "He said you're lucky to be alive."
Jack barely heard the words. His mind was fuzzy with past memories and his left arm throbbed in dull pain. He stared, blankly up at the ceiling. The ceiling was made of wood, with cross beams holding the roof on. Nothing fancy. In fact, this place seemed even smaller then Anamaria's house.
"Nate?" George questioned lightly, leaning in. Jack felt George holding his hand.
"I'm ok." Jack answered. "Just a little thirsty."
George nodded before getting up to get him a glass of water. He quickly returned since the kitchen wasn't really that far away. He held out the glass.
Jack tried, unsuccessfully to sit up. He felt George's strong arm wrap around him and pull him into a sitting position. His left arm throbbed in a quick, painful way. Jack winced.
"Sorry. I'll try to be more careful." George said.
Jack smiled kindly. "You're too good."
"What was that?" George questioned. Jack's voice was only in a whisper.
Jack shook his head. "Nothing." He said, making sure it was louder. George gave him a look, before holding the glass to Jack's lips. Jack greedily drank down the water, feeling the moister in his throat made his whole body shutter in relief. He needed that.
When he was finished, George let him lay down on the cot. It was bumpy and dirty, but not that uncomfortable, all things considering of course. "Where am I?" Jack questioned.
"You're in Tortuga." He said, setting down the empty glass.
"Tortuga?" Jack questioned lightly. How did he end up there? Wasn't the storm making them go far North?
"Aye. It's a wonder you were found on the good side though. If you'd been found on the side with all those Pirate's, then may god have mercy on your soul boy. They're rather rowdy about this time." George said.
Jack gave a light frown. He turned his head. Sure enough, the only things lighting the room were candles. That meant it was night. Had he really slept that long?
"It'll be a day or so before you're ready to go outside. So, why not get some sleep? You look tired." George said, rubbing his hand against Jack's forehead.
Jack's memories slipped away as his eyes grew heavy again. His moment of going back in time forgotten. Jack was glad George didn't question him about it. Jack knew it was George's good nature that made him keep his silence about what happened.
Jack let himself fall into sleep's clutches for the second time that day.
After two night's rest and a day, Jack was finally let outside. His muscles, coming to life slowly, but surely. His left arm no longer throbbed in pain, but it would occasional throw him for a loop and start up when he least expected it.
George had kept him company through those times. Jack wondered vaguely why he was chosen to be saved by this man? He knew George would have a hard time letting Jack go.
Jack of course, went to the nearest dock and sat down at the end. He stared off into the ocean, barely able to contain his anxiousness. He knew he saved the ship from the bow crashing into it, but what of the storm? Did they make it out alright? Was his trunk at the bottom of the ocean right now, forever lost to him? Was his only sign of being a pirate trapped in his cabin, only to be view by the fishes swimming by?
And what of the crew? Were anymore of them lost at sea? Were they safe from the storm? Did Mr. Gillin fall off when he reached for Jack?
All these questions roamed around his mind, not allowing him a moments rest without resorting back to them. He gave a painful sigh as he stared out into the ocean. He wanted to be back out there, riding the waves with the best of them. Learning what it meant to be free from all rules and expectations of you.
"My Son, Paul, used to stare out into the ocean the same way as you." George said.
Jack nearly jumped out of his skin! He turned around to see George calmly standing behind him. His eyes set onto the distant horizon.
"He wanted to sail as a merchant for a long time. Thought it was the best job he could get. Being able to be respectable to the law, while able to be free out on the sea. He always told me his first real love was the sea." George said with a sigh, sitting down next to Jack.
"I knew from a young age I wanted to be out on that grand adventure of never ending blue diamonds." Jack said, turning back to the ocean. The waves crashed upon the shore, giving the scene a relaxing effect.
"You have it in your blood. Same as my son." George said. "I was once an Officer. I patrolled the Germen waters. After I had my son, I decided to call it quits on that and started in trade. I came here for more opportunities at a job. But, no one would hire a Germen."
Jack stared at his newly found friend and slight Father figure. "Is it really that bad? I mean, people must know it's the heart that determines the man not his race."
George put a heavy hand on Jack's shoulder. "You remind me so much of my son. He said the same thing to me."
Jack gave a weak smile. He liked hearing good things from George, but he didn't want to be a replacement. "I guess great minds think alike."
George gave a chuckle. "You may be smarter then a drunk, but you'll still dull around the edges."
Jack turned, giving George a fake glare. "And what, dare say it that supposed to mean?"
George shrugged. "Guess it means what I say."
Jack lightly pushed him. "Then maybe I might just outsmart you one day and make off with all your money?"
"I'd like to see that one myself." George said, a small smile playing on his lips.
Jack and George developed a similar quirk of playing banter games with each other. They did it almost as soon as Jack could start speaking whole sentences.
"Then maybe you will." Jack said, standing up. "I'm going to be the best bloody pirate in the history of piracy!"
"Is that so?" George said, cocking up an eyebrow. "A sweet thing like you, stealing from someone? I think not."
Jack gave a smirk. He started to walk away. "Oh. By the way. You have a very nice pocket watch. Wouldn't want you to lose it."
George reached into his pocket. He chuckled. "Well, I'll be damned."
Jack reached in his own pocket and pulled out the pocket watch. "Wouldn't want you leaving it in an unsafe place with a pirate on the lose."
Jack tossed it over to George. George caught it easily and placed it back in his pocket.
"You're a sneaky one Lad." He said, standing up.
Jack made his way through the town. He traveled to the Doctor's house. His next stop. He wanted to thank the man for fixing him up. After that, time to look on about passages to England.
Jack knocked on the door, waiting for the Doctor to open up. He glanced around the front of the house. Nothing special. A few dead plants near the door. Stone step in front of the wooden house. Jack could hear shuffling inside.
The good Doctor opened the door. "Why, hello there. It's good to see you up and running, Nate. It is Nate, correct?"
"Yes. And it's a pleasure to see you too." Jack said nodding his head. "I just came by to thank you for helping me."
"Nonsense! Come in." He said, moving aside. Jack couldn't refuse because the Doctor put an arm around his shoulders, leading him inside already. The door closed behind them. Jack was lead to a chair. The Doctor sat across from him. His elbows resting on the table. A small twinkle in his eye.
"How is your arm?" The Doctor questioned.
"Fine." Jack answered with a shrug. "It stings sometimes, but for the most part it is in very good condition. All things considering of course."
"Of course." He said. "Nate. Do you know how close you were to loosing that arm?"
Jack shook his head.
"You were hit by lightening. One of the foulest things. I was sure you would have died if I left it on. Though, you seem to be able to move it." The doctor said, peering at his young patient.
"I can move it." Jack said, holding up his arm.
"How about your fingers?" He questioned.
Jack wiggled his fingers. His hand was weaker and could only pick up light things, but it was all he really needed. He could work on gaining his muscle back.
"You seem to be in correct working order." The Doctor said, waving at Jack to put his arm down. "I almost cut your arm off. I was afraid it was infected. If it weren't for George, why you wouldn't have a left arm."
Jack swallowed. Suddenly, his mouth felt very dry. He looked down at his left arm. He could have lost it for good!
Jack felt a familiar twinge in his stomach. George saved him yet again. He couldn't repay the man's kindness. He couldn't even stay with him. He couldn't do anything for George. Unless, he gave up his dream of becoming a pirate. That was the only way.
Jack looked up at Doctor Thompson. "What do you think I should do to repay him?"
Dr. Thompson peered at me. Almost as it looking me over. "You do look like Paul."
Jack slumped a little in his chair. On with the whole Paul thing again. He sighed. He guessed it was a possibility that he could replace George's son. He would love to have George as a Father. Then again, that would mean he would have to stay on Tortuga until George passed away or finally got sick of him.
"Nate. This does not mean you have to give up your life! George would hate that! He wouldn't want you to be unhappy." Dr. Thompson said. "Do you happen to know how Paul died?"
"No sir." Jack answered.
"When George came over here to start a new life, he brought his four year old son with him. George always went out to look for jobs, while Paul stayed at home. See, his mother passed away giving birth to him." The Doctor said, pausing for effect. "When Paul reached the age of ten, he was completely restless. He would talk of the Ocean and dream of becoming a merchant sailor of a vessel of his own. That Dream was grand, but not one that George wanted for his son."
Jack nodded, waiting for the story to continue.
"George confined Paul to the house mainly. He didn't want his son roaming around on the island, getting himself injured, after all, Paul was all he really had left. One day while George was at work, Paul got completely restless. He ran outside, despite his Father's warnings. He ran to the docks. A storm blew in. It was the first storm Paul was able to see first hand. He didn't know how dangerous a storm could be." The doctor said with a sigh.
"The boy died. He became sick very quickly. See, my theory is, when someone is kept inside for so long, they no longer can fight the sickness from outside. He couldn't withstand being outside in a storm like that. Not with his low tolerance for sickness."
Jack hung his head. He never thought all those times playing outside would help him fight off sickness. A tear slid down his cheek, silently. "No wonder George wants me outside and playing."
"Yes well, he also needs to learn that what he did is not his fault." The Doctor said. He stood up and walked over to Jack. "I hope you decide what it right for you, not George. He may be heartsick over the loss of his child, but it would kill him to see another suffer the same fate."
Jack nodded. He stood up and walked out of the house. He made his way to the local pubs, determined to find a ship to England. He was going to live his dream. He wasn't just going to do it for himself. Oh no. This one was for Miss. Sparrow and George. The two kindest people he'd ever met.
(I can't stop it there! I'm in a writing groove.)
Jack sat down at a table, looking around at the local people. A lot of them were involved in fighting and some in drinking. A group of men were in the corner, talking loudly. One was explaining a story about how his ship over powered a Naval ship.
"And there I was lads. Standing on the Deck, with a broken Navy vessel in front of my eyes!" He said, with cheers coming from his gang.
Jack rolled his eyes. He doubted this man's story. Even though he only heard the end. He glanced around the gang. Three older men, around George's age sat there. All looking scruffy and worn for the wear. A younger man stuck out like a sore thumb.
He was sitting between the story teller and one of the old men. His brown hair was tied back and his bright brown eyes twinkled as he listened to the story. His cheeks were slightly defined and his skin was golden brown from years of standing under the sun.
"Come on Bootstrap! We got to hear one of your tales!" Said one of the older men.
The young man, who was only three years older then Jack himself, started to speak about a grand adventure on the ocean. Somehow, he escaped a Navy ship, a fleet of the army and made it out without a scratch.
The men smiled and ordered another drink. Jack snorted at the end of the story. He couldn't believe a single word of it! How could a man tell a bird to get the keys to a jail cell? Some of the things in the story did not match up at all!
The man stopped in their action and looked over at Jack. Jack's eyes widen a little. Why were they looking at him? Was his snort really that loud?
"Boy! Who do you think you are snorting at Bootstrap like that?" Said one of the older men.
"Yeah. Old Bootstrap here would wipe the floor with the likes of you." Said another.
"Oh really?" Jack questioned. His natural instinct to get into trouble kicked in. "I have a story that would blow your socks off! And it's my own."
"Really lad? Let's hear it then, if you're such a great one." Said the first old man.
Jack walked over to them. They pulled up a chair for him. Jack looked rather small compared to all of them and they were leaning in to hear him.
"Well, there I was in Port Royal. Where I grew up of course, and I'm to be shipped off to England. So, I get myself on a ship traveling there. Of course, nothing special about that." Jack said as he started his tale.
The men were captivated by Jack's tale of him saving the ship from the storm, then his fight to survive on the ocean waters. Not only that, but being struck by lightening!
"Now, here I am." He said with a grin.
"I don't believe it." Bootstrap said.
"Course you don't. You've been telling so many lies, you forget what the truth sounds like." Jack said wittingly.
"Prove your story then." Bootstrap challendged.
"Sure." Jack said, standing up. He lifted his shirt sleeve to reveal his arm bandaged. He unraveled the bandages to show the nasty, lightening bolt type wound. It was still open. The bandages were going to need replacing. They were soaked in blood on the last wrap.
"By my first love." One man muttered. "It's shaped just like a lightening bolt."
"Guess this is my small gift from God, eh?" Jack said with a quirky smile.
"You say you're heading to England?" Bootstrap started, like they weren't just going into a fight.
"That's right." Jack said with slight caution.
"We're heading there ourselves. Going to raid the fort while we're there and say hello to a few good friends." He said, taking a sip from his mug. "You want to join us Lad? We can't promise you we can take you back, but we can get you there in one piece. Our only charge is that you be our Cabin boy till he reached England."
"You're Pirates, aren't you?" Jack questioned.
"Aye." Bootstrap said.
"Then you have yourselves a new Cabin boy." Jack said with a smile as he shook Bootstrap's Hand.
"Welcome to the crew Lad." Bootstrap said, shaking his hand.
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I got this one out really early! I hope you like it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Please review!
MoonbeamDancer, of course you can use my story on your site! ^_^ I'm happy you would even ask for it to be put on your site! Thanks.
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(_)-AN
"_"-Speaking
'_'-Thoughts
~_~-scene change
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A Pirate's Life for me
Part 13- Lost and found
Jack couldn't for the life of him, remember much about what happened through that stormy night. All he could truly remember was a nightmarish flash of light before his eyes as he hit the sea water.
Jack found himself, floating on top of the water. He was laying on his back, with a horrible pain shooting it's way up his arm. Jack's first thought was to see what was the matter with his arm.
He lifted his left arm out of the water, wincing as he felt the pain of his stiff muscles. Blood was stained onto his clothes and a hole was brunt into his shirt.
It was a weird shape. Kind of like a spider's web in shape. He reached over and unbuttoned his sleeve cuff. He rolled it down to see a gashing looking cut on his arm. It was kind of like a lightening bolt running down his arm. It followed along with a vein in his arm.
He winced as he probed his arm in order to survey the damage. It wasn't nearly as bad as he thought it was.
He let his arm fall back into the water. He looked around himself. There was a shore in head of him. He must have floated quite a ways to reach shore just over night. Then again, the storm was horrible. It could have easily tossed him all the way to Africa for all he knew.
He used his good arm to swim to shore. He winced at each stroke. His muscles refusing his persistent use. He groaned as he finally reached shore. He laid down on the beach for a few minutes, trying to catch his breath.
A shadow appeared over him, blocking the sun from view. He opened his eyes and looked up. It was an older man, who looked worn and torn by the weather. His gray hair stuck out of its ponytail. His shirt, dirty and wet at the sleeves. His teeth, rotten almost to the point of falling out.
"You alive?" He questioned to Jack.
"I think." Jack answered back in a hoarse voice.
"Need any help there, lad?" The man questioned. His face somewhat contorted into concern.
"I could use some." Jack answered, not even moving. His muscles refused to move now. They were not only stiff, but sore now. And he was exhausted.
"Can you stand?" The man asked.
"I don't think I can." Jack answered. He tried to sit up, but his stomach muscles cramped like a tight knot, forcing him to stay put. "I can't even sit up."
The man frowned down at him. He put his hands under Jack's armpits, lifting him to his feet. He picked Jack up and carried him towards the small town.
"I'm George, by the way." Said the man.
"Name's Joanathanel." Jack answered. He didn't want to give out his pirate name to any old stranger. No. He would wait with the pirating. First, he needed to get back to the shore of England. He needed to get his things. His bandanna, his book and his letter.
"Awful long name. Mind if I call you Nate?" He questioned.
"Not at all." Jack answered. So, his new name here was Nate. He would have to remember that. Not all that hard to remember, but he would have to learn how to respond to it.
"Why were you washed up on that shore?" George asked.
"Got caught in a storm last night. I fell overboard." Jack answered. He put his head against the man's shoulder. Sleep, felt like a very good idea at the moment.
"Where were you going to?" George asked.
"To England." Jack mumbled.
"Got anything worth some salt on you lad?" George questioned.
"No." Jack mumbled. His eyes fell closed.
George sighed. Just his luck to find a boy who was washed on the shore and didn't have a shilling to his name. He carried Jack all the way to his house. He set the boy down on a spare cot. Then, he saw the blood stained on his arm.
He reached out and rolled up Jack's sleeve to expose the lightening like wound on Jack's arm. George made a slight gasp. Though, a wound such as this is to expected. Jack was, after all, caught in a storm.
George wasn't a doctor, but he happened to know one. He ran off to fetch one.
Jack woke up to the feeling of a light stinging on his left arm. The world was showered in a fuzzy haze and every outline was blurred. The world of color, slowed swirled around his head, allowing him to see a few things.
The first thing he saw was an old man's face, frowning as he concentrated on something on Jack's left. The other was a worried looking George, sitting close by. The room started to go into focus and the sting in his arm grew to enormous heights!
"AHHH!" Jack screamed as he felt the full effects of the wound crashing down on his body. George reached out and pinned Jack to the floor, holding him fast.
"You have to stay still Nate! You'll only make it worse." George said. And for the first time, Jack noticed a slight accent to George's voice. It was clearly a Germen accent, now that Jack thought about it.
The pain came back into focus once more, causing Jack to thrash around, trying to get away from the person causing the pain. Jack kicked his legs, which were protesting to their full might not to be moved, but he didn't care. His arm was hurting worse then his stiff muscles.
"Hold him." Said the old man. His gray beard reached the beginning of his chest. His eyes, worn at a harsh life. Wrinkles developed around his mouth, which was formed into a concerned frown. His brushy eyebrows pushed together in concentration.
George applied more pressure, stopping Jack's arms and upper body from moving, but Jack's legs kept kicking.
"STOP IT! IT HURTS!" Jack shouted. His eyes, squeezed shut with pain. His mind couldn't help but wonder back to the time when his father would beat him. He started to brake out in a sweat and he paled considerable. He started to mumble random things. "Please… no… I'll be good… please… no… stop it… I promise I won't do it again…"
George watched with concerned eyes. "Is he alright?"
The old man stopped soaking the wound, and fetched his wrappings. He then started to bind the wound. "He's a troubled young man. I think it's wise to keep a close eye on him."
"Of course." George said, looking at jack with concern.
"George. I'm worried about you. You know this boy won't replace your lost son." The old man said, looking at George through the tops of his eyes, still binding that wound.
"I know.." George said with a sigh. "He just looks so much like Paul. I can't help but wonder if this is a sign that I could be given another chance at having a son."
The old man finished. Jack had stopped his thrashings and started to whimper in pain.
"I won't charge you for this, since I did owe you a great sum from our last card game. Though, I will ask for pay next time." The old man said, packing up his things. "Please, stay safe."
The old man placed a hand on George's shoulder. "I'll be there if you ever need me."
"Thanks for the help." George said, patting the hand on his shoulder.
The old man gave him a nod before leaving the house. When George heard the door close, he turned his full attention onto Jack.
"Nate. Please, stay calm. Doctor Thomas found out what was wrong with you. You were struck by lightening." George said. "He said you're lucky to be alive."
Jack barely heard the words. His mind was fuzzy with past memories and his left arm throbbed in dull pain. He stared, blankly up at the ceiling. The ceiling was made of wood, with cross beams holding the roof on. Nothing fancy. In fact, this place seemed even smaller then Anamaria's house.
"Nate?" George questioned lightly, leaning in. Jack felt George holding his hand.
"I'm ok." Jack answered. "Just a little thirsty."
George nodded before getting up to get him a glass of water. He quickly returned since the kitchen wasn't really that far away. He held out the glass.
Jack tried, unsuccessfully to sit up. He felt George's strong arm wrap around him and pull him into a sitting position. His left arm throbbed in a quick, painful way. Jack winced.
"Sorry. I'll try to be more careful." George said.
Jack smiled kindly. "You're too good."
"What was that?" George questioned. Jack's voice was only in a whisper.
Jack shook his head. "Nothing." He said, making sure it was louder. George gave him a look, before holding the glass to Jack's lips. Jack greedily drank down the water, feeling the moister in his throat made his whole body shutter in relief. He needed that.
When he was finished, George let him lay down on the cot. It was bumpy and dirty, but not that uncomfortable, all things considering of course. "Where am I?" Jack questioned.
"You're in Tortuga." He said, setting down the empty glass.
"Tortuga?" Jack questioned lightly. How did he end up there? Wasn't the storm making them go far North?
"Aye. It's a wonder you were found on the good side though. If you'd been found on the side with all those Pirate's, then may god have mercy on your soul boy. They're rather rowdy about this time." George said.
Jack gave a light frown. He turned his head. Sure enough, the only things lighting the room were candles. That meant it was night. Had he really slept that long?
"It'll be a day or so before you're ready to go outside. So, why not get some sleep? You look tired." George said, rubbing his hand against Jack's forehead.
Jack's memories slipped away as his eyes grew heavy again. His moment of going back in time forgotten. Jack was glad George didn't question him about it. Jack knew it was George's good nature that made him keep his silence about what happened.
Jack let himself fall into sleep's clutches for the second time that day.
After two night's rest and a day, Jack was finally let outside. His muscles, coming to life slowly, but surely. His left arm no longer throbbed in pain, but it would occasional throw him for a loop and start up when he least expected it.
George had kept him company through those times. Jack wondered vaguely why he was chosen to be saved by this man? He knew George would have a hard time letting Jack go.
Jack of course, went to the nearest dock and sat down at the end. He stared off into the ocean, barely able to contain his anxiousness. He knew he saved the ship from the bow crashing into it, but what of the storm? Did they make it out alright? Was his trunk at the bottom of the ocean right now, forever lost to him? Was his only sign of being a pirate trapped in his cabin, only to be view by the fishes swimming by?
And what of the crew? Were anymore of them lost at sea? Were they safe from the storm? Did Mr. Gillin fall off when he reached for Jack?
All these questions roamed around his mind, not allowing him a moments rest without resorting back to them. He gave a painful sigh as he stared out into the ocean. He wanted to be back out there, riding the waves with the best of them. Learning what it meant to be free from all rules and expectations of you.
"My Son, Paul, used to stare out into the ocean the same way as you." George said.
Jack nearly jumped out of his skin! He turned around to see George calmly standing behind him. His eyes set onto the distant horizon.
"He wanted to sail as a merchant for a long time. Thought it was the best job he could get. Being able to be respectable to the law, while able to be free out on the sea. He always told me his first real love was the sea." George said with a sigh, sitting down next to Jack.
"I knew from a young age I wanted to be out on that grand adventure of never ending blue diamonds." Jack said, turning back to the ocean. The waves crashed upon the shore, giving the scene a relaxing effect.
"You have it in your blood. Same as my son." George said. "I was once an Officer. I patrolled the Germen waters. After I had my son, I decided to call it quits on that and started in trade. I came here for more opportunities at a job. But, no one would hire a Germen."
Jack stared at his newly found friend and slight Father figure. "Is it really that bad? I mean, people must know it's the heart that determines the man not his race."
George put a heavy hand on Jack's shoulder. "You remind me so much of my son. He said the same thing to me."
Jack gave a weak smile. He liked hearing good things from George, but he didn't want to be a replacement. "I guess great minds think alike."
George gave a chuckle. "You may be smarter then a drunk, but you'll still dull around the edges."
Jack turned, giving George a fake glare. "And what, dare say it that supposed to mean?"
George shrugged. "Guess it means what I say."
Jack lightly pushed him. "Then maybe I might just outsmart you one day and make off with all your money?"
"I'd like to see that one myself." George said, a small smile playing on his lips.
Jack and George developed a similar quirk of playing banter games with each other. They did it almost as soon as Jack could start speaking whole sentences.
"Then maybe you will." Jack said, standing up. "I'm going to be the best bloody pirate in the history of piracy!"
"Is that so?" George said, cocking up an eyebrow. "A sweet thing like you, stealing from someone? I think not."
Jack gave a smirk. He started to walk away. "Oh. By the way. You have a very nice pocket watch. Wouldn't want you to lose it."
George reached into his pocket. He chuckled. "Well, I'll be damned."
Jack reached in his own pocket and pulled out the pocket watch. "Wouldn't want you leaving it in an unsafe place with a pirate on the lose."
Jack tossed it over to George. George caught it easily and placed it back in his pocket.
"You're a sneaky one Lad." He said, standing up.
Jack made his way through the town. He traveled to the Doctor's house. His next stop. He wanted to thank the man for fixing him up. After that, time to look on about passages to England.
Jack knocked on the door, waiting for the Doctor to open up. He glanced around the front of the house. Nothing special. A few dead plants near the door. Stone step in front of the wooden house. Jack could hear shuffling inside.
The good Doctor opened the door. "Why, hello there. It's good to see you up and running, Nate. It is Nate, correct?"
"Yes. And it's a pleasure to see you too." Jack said nodding his head. "I just came by to thank you for helping me."
"Nonsense! Come in." He said, moving aside. Jack couldn't refuse because the Doctor put an arm around his shoulders, leading him inside already. The door closed behind them. Jack was lead to a chair. The Doctor sat across from him. His elbows resting on the table. A small twinkle in his eye.
"How is your arm?" The Doctor questioned.
"Fine." Jack answered with a shrug. "It stings sometimes, but for the most part it is in very good condition. All things considering of course."
"Of course." He said. "Nate. Do you know how close you were to loosing that arm?"
Jack shook his head.
"You were hit by lightening. One of the foulest things. I was sure you would have died if I left it on. Though, you seem to be able to move it." The doctor said, peering at his young patient.
"I can move it." Jack said, holding up his arm.
"How about your fingers?" He questioned.
Jack wiggled his fingers. His hand was weaker and could only pick up light things, but it was all he really needed. He could work on gaining his muscle back.
"You seem to be in correct working order." The Doctor said, waving at Jack to put his arm down. "I almost cut your arm off. I was afraid it was infected. If it weren't for George, why you wouldn't have a left arm."
Jack swallowed. Suddenly, his mouth felt very dry. He looked down at his left arm. He could have lost it for good!
Jack felt a familiar twinge in his stomach. George saved him yet again. He couldn't repay the man's kindness. He couldn't even stay with him. He couldn't do anything for George. Unless, he gave up his dream of becoming a pirate. That was the only way.
Jack looked up at Doctor Thompson. "What do you think I should do to repay him?"
Dr. Thompson peered at me. Almost as it looking me over. "You do look like Paul."
Jack slumped a little in his chair. On with the whole Paul thing again. He sighed. He guessed it was a possibility that he could replace George's son. He would love to have George as a Father. Then again, that would mean he would have to stay on Tortuga until George passed away or finally got sick of him.
"Nate. This does not mean you have to give up your life! George would hate that! He wouldn't want you to be unhappy." Dr. Thompson said. "Do you happen to know how Paul died?"
"No sir." Jack answered.
"When George came over here to start a new life, he brought his four year old son with him. George always went out to look for jobs, while Paul stayed at home. See, his mother passed away giving birth to him." The Doctor said, pausing for effect. "When Paul reached the age of ten, he was completely restless. He would talk of the Ocean and dream of becoming a merchant sailor of a vessel of his own. That Dream was grand, but not one that George wanted for his son."
Jack nodded, waiting for the story to continue.
"George confined Paul to the house mainly. He didn't want his son roaming around on the island, getting himself injured, after all, Paul was all he really had left. One day while George was at work, Paul got completely restless. He ran outside, despite his Father's warnings. He ran to the docks. A storm blew in. It was the first storm Paul was able to see first hand. He didn't know how dangerous a storm could be." The doctor said with a sigh.
"The boy died. He became sick very quickly. See, my theory is, when someone is kept inside for so long, they no longer can fight the sickness from outside. He couldn't withstand being outside in a storm like that. Not with his low tolerance for sickness."
Jack hung his head. He never thought all those times playing outside would help him fight off sickness. A tear slid down his cheek, silently. "No wonder George wants me outside and playing."
"Yes well, he also needs to learn that what he did is not his fault." The Doctor said. He stood up and walked over to Jack. "I hope you decide what it right for you, not George. He may be heartsick over the loss of his child, but it would kill him to see another suffer the same fate."
Jack nodded. He stood up and walked out of the house. He made his way to the local pubs, determined to find a ship to England. He was going to live his dream. He wasn't just going to do it for himself. Oh no. This one was for Miss. Sparrow and George. The two kindest people he'd ever met.
(I can't stop it there! I'm in a writing groove.)
Jack sat down at a table, looking around at the local people. A lot of them were involved in fighting and some in drinking. A group of men were in the corner, talking loudly. One was explaining a story about how his ship over powered a Naval ship.
"And there I was lads. Standing on the Deck, with a broken Navy vessel in front of my eyes!" He said, with cheers coming from his gang.
Jack rolled his eyes. He doubted this man's story. Even though he only heard the end. He glanced around the gang. Three older men, around George's age sat there. All looking scruffy and worn for the wear. A younger man stuck out like a sore thumb.
He was sitting between the story teller and one of the old men. His brown hair was tied back and his bright brown eyes twinkled as he listened to the story. His cheeks were slightly defined and his skin was golden brown from years of standing under the sun.
"Come on Bootstrap! We got to hear one of your tales!" Said one of the older men.
The young man, who was only three years older then Jack himself, started to speak about a grand adventure on the ocean. Somehow, he escaped a Navy ship, a fleet of the army and made it out without a scratch.
The men smiled and ordered another drink. Jack snorted at the end of the story. He couldn't believe a single word of it! How could a man tell a bird to get the keys to a jail cell? Some of the things in the story did not match up at all!
The man stopped in their action and looked over at Jack. Jack's eyes widen a little. Why were they looking at him? Was his snort really that loud?
"Boy! Who do you think you are snorting at Bootstrap like that?" Said one of the older men.
"Yeah. Old Bootstrap here would wipe the floor with the likes of you." Said another.
"Oh really?" Jack questioned. His natural instinct to get into trouble kicked in. "I have a story that would blow your socks off! And it's my own."
"Really lad? Let's hear it then, if you're such a great one." Said the first old man.
Jack walked over to them. They pulled up a chair for him. Jack looked rather small compared to all of them and they were leaning in to hear him.
"Well, there I was in Port Royal. Where I grew up of course, and I'm to be shipped off to England. So, I get myself on a ship traveling there. Of course, nothing special about that." Jack said as he started his tale.
The men were captivated by Jack's tale of him saving the ship from the storm, then his fight to survive on the ocean waters. Not only that, but being struck by lightening!
"Now, here I am." He said with a grin.
"I don't believe it." Bootstrap said.
"Course you don't. You've been telling so many lies, you forget what the truth sounds like." Jack said wittingly.
"Prove your story then." Bootstrap challendged.
"Sure." Jack said, standing up. He lifted his shirt sleeve to reveal his arm bandaged. He unraveled the bandages to show the nasty, lightening bolt type wound. It was still open. The bandages were going to need replacing. They were soaked in blood on the last wrap.
"By my first love." One man muttered. "It's shaped just like a lightening bolt."
"Guess this is my small gift from God, eh?" Jack said with a quirky smile.
"You say you're heading to England?" Bootstrap started, like they weren't just going into a fight.
"That's right." Jack said with slight caution.
"We're heading there ourselves. Going to raid the fort while we're there and say hello to a few good friends." He said, taking a sip from his mug. "You want to join us Lad? We can't promise you we can take you back, but we can get you there in one piece. Our only charge is that you be our Cabin boy till he reached England."
"You're Pirates, aren't you?" Jack questioned.
"Aye." Bootstrap said.
"Then you have yourselves a new Cabin boy." Jack said with a smile as he shook Bootstrap's Hand.
"Welcome to the crew Lad." Bootstrap said, shaking his hand.
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I got this one out really early! I hope you like it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Please review!
