Chapter Two~
Elizabeth Turner. Elizabeth Turner cleared the last dishes off the rich mahogany table, so out of place in the little house. Elizabeth Turner blew a kiss to Will as he left for work at his blacksmith shop two doors down the street. Elizabeth Turner whispered her name to herself over and over as she washed the dishes. Turner... Miss Turner...Elizabeth Turner...Mrs. Turner.....
She shook her head and started drying the dishes. She had always dreamed of having children, but now that she had to take care of the house herself, she wasn't sure if she wanted to anymore. Cleaning up after just herself and Will was enough work. Not to mention all the extra expense. That was one thing Elizabeth had never planned-- not being the richest young lady in Port Royal. She had known, of course, when she married Will that life would be very different, but she had never really thought about the fact that she wouldn't have any servants. Her father would probably have paid for at least one maid to help Elizabeth, but she didn't want to ask him. He had helped her enough already-- the table was just one of the many wedding gifts he had given to her and Will. She knew he had never truly approved of the marriage, but he had accepted fate and been a very good sport about it. So had Norrington. Elizabeth thought that it really had been rather cruel of her to say she would marry him... she had of course had no intention whatsoever of doing it. But how else could she have persuaded him to save Will?
The dishes were done in very little time. Elizabeth decided that she was finally beginning to get used to the complex, confusing task of running a home. No children yet, she hoped, because that would only at to the business of her day. She had never really bothered to ponder about days like this... alone all day while Will worked nearly all the daylight hours just to make a living. She had fancied herself and Will going on more wild adventures like the one that had truly brought them together, perhaps sailing the seas, or else adventuring to places on land that were untouched by civilazation.
Dusting was next. Oh, it was the most boring of chores. Elizabeth had invented entire pirate stories while she dusted, since it took so little concentration. Her mind wandered again. She wanted to save someone in this daydream. If she had been capable of daydreaming about anyone other than Will, she would have made up a thrilling tale of some handsome prince/pirate rescuing his love from an evil prince/pirate. She could never decide if the pirate would be the villain or the hero. Anyways, she could only think of Will, so she was forced to think up another epic about herself and him going on some exciting venture together. Yes... saving someone. Who could she rescue this time?
Elizabeth's dust cloth knocked a salt cellar off of the table and hurled it toward the door. It bounced off the door and fell onto the wooden floorboards, losing it's lit as it fell. As she knelt to pick up the cellar before sweeping the salt, Elizabeth heard a knock at the door.
She hastily kicked as much of the salt as she could out of sight before opening the door. When she saw who had knocked, Elizabeth gasped and wondered briefly if this was all part of some new daydream. For there on the doorstep, which so nicely overlooked the ocean, stood Annamaria, the only woman pirate that Elizabeth had ever heard of, and the newly appointed first mate of the Black Pearl.
"Pick up a pinch of that and toss it over your left shoulder this very instant," ordered the pirate, without so much as a how-do-you-do. Elizabeth frowned at her, but went ahead and performed the old superstition.
"Good. Hello, Elizabeth, I trust you remember me. I need to talk to your husband."
"What for?" asked Elizabeth cautiously. She didn't trust pirates. Who could blame her?
"It's private," said Annamaria abruptly. "I need to see him now."
"He's at work. Can you tell me instead?"
"I probably could, but I doubt you would understand. You can listen when I tell William if it's that important to you."
Elizabeth didn't like being treated like a child. She pouted and straightened her shoulders.
"Follow me," she asserted, and strode off toward the blacksmith shop.
Will was at his anvil, hammering at what looked like the beginnings of an axe. He turned around and wiped a strand of sweaty hair out of his eyes.
"Good mor- oh, hello Elizabeth," he smiled. "What are you doing here...." he scowled when he saw the pirate. "What is she doing here?"
"Apparently she needs to talk to you. About something private."
Will was confused. And he looked it. Elizabeth smiled to herself... he had such a cute confused face.
"It's about your father," said Annamaria. She sounded very businesslike and gruff. Elizabeth guessed that she didn't want to be here.
"What about him," asked Will. Elizabeth didn't smile this time but... he had such a cute sad face.
"Captain Jack Sparrow thinks he could be alive," Annamaria answered abruptly. Elizabeth didn't believe her in the least. This was just another plan of Jack's. It had to be. But Will had one of his rare looks of dawning comprehension. Elizabeth decided she would beleive Annamaria after all. Will had such a cute dawning comprehension face.
"I had thought about that..." said Will. "I had wondered... because he couldn't die, so perhaps he got out. But I doubt dear old Jack would be willing to help me again."
Elizabeth sighed. Her husband was just so stupid sometimes. Of course, he had a very cute stupid face, but it would be nice if he had just a little common sense. Of course Jack was willing to help them find Will's father. Why else would he have sent Annamaria? The only question was, what would he want in return? Because Captain Jack Sparrow never did anything for nothing.
"Well," said Annamaria, "he's offered to help you find him. If you want to. He is a pirate after all."
"Of course I want to," said Will, offended, "he was-- is-- my father!"
"Meet me at the dock at midnight then," Annamaria said brusquely. And without another word she strode out the door and dissapeared down an alley.
Elizabeth Turner. Elizabeth Turner cleared the last dishes off the rich mahogany table, so out of place in the little house. Elizabeth Turner blew a kiss to Will as he left for work at his blacksmith shop two doors down the street. Elizabeth Turner whispered her name to herself over and over as she washed the dishes. Turner... Miss Turner...Elizabeth Turner...Mrs. Turner.....
She shook her head and started drying the dishes. She had always dreamed of having children, but now that she had to take care of the house herself, she wasn't sure if she wanted to anymore. Cleaning up after just herself and Will was enough work. Not to mention all the extra expense. That was one thing Elizabeth had never planned-- not being the richest young lady in Port Royal. She had known, of course, when she married Will that life would be very different, but she had never really thought about the fact that she wouldn't have any servants. Her father would probably have paid for at least one maid to help Elizabeth, but she didn't want to ask him. He had helped her enough already-- the table was just one of the many wedding gifts he had given to her and Will. She knew he had never truly approved of the marriage, but he had accepted fate and been a very good sport about it. So had Norrington. Elizabeth thought that it really had been rather cruel of her to say she would marry him... she had of course had no intention whatsoever of doing it. But how else could she have persuaded him to save Will?
The dishes were done in very little time. Elizabeth decided that she was finally beginning to get used to the complex, confusing task of running a home. No children yet, she hoped, because that would only at to the business of her day. She had never really bothered to ponder about days like this... alone all day while Will worked nearly all the daylight hours just to make a living. She had fancied herself and Will going on more wild adventures like the one that had truly brought them together, perhaps sailing the seas, or else adventuring to places on land that were untouched by civilazation.
Dusting was next. Oh, it was the most boring of chores. Elizabeth had invented entire pirate stories while she dusted, since it took so little concentration. Her mind wandered again. She wanted to save someone in this daydream. If she had been capable of daydreaming about anyone other than Will, she would have made up a thrilling tale of some handsome prince/pirate rescuing his love from an evil prince/pirate. She could never decide if the pirate would be the villain or the hero. Anyways, she could only think of Will, so she was forced to think up another epic about herself and him going on some exciting venture together. Yes... saving someone. Who could she rescue this time?
Elizabeth's dust cloth knocked a salt cellar off of the table and hurled it toward the door. It bounced off the door and fell onto the wooden floorboards, losing it's lit as it fell. As she knelt to pick up the cellar before sweeping the salt, Elizabeth heard a knock at the door.
She hastily kicked as much of the salt as she could out of sight before opening the door. When she saw who had knocked, Elizabeth gasped and wondered briefly if this was all part of some new daydream. For there on the doorstep, which so nicely overlooked the ocean, stood Annamaria, the only woman pirate that Elizabeth had ever heard of, and the newly appointed first mate of the Black Pearl.
"Pick up a pinch of that and toss it over your left shoulder this very instant," ordered the pirate, without so much as a how-do-you-do. Elizabeth frowned at her, but went ahead and performed the old superstition.
"Good. Hello, Elizabeth, I trust you remember me. I need to talk to your husband."
"What for?" asked Elizabeth cautiously. She didn't trust pirates. Who could blame her?
"It's private," said Annamaria abruptly. "I need to see him now."
"He's at work. Can you tell me instead?"
"I probably could, but I doubt you would understand. You can listen when I tell William if it's that important to you."
Elizabeth didn't like being treated like a child. She pouted and straightened her shoulders.
"Follow me," she asserted, and strode off toward the blacksmith shop.
Will was at his anvil, hammering at what looked like the beginnings of an axe. He turned around and wiped a strand of sweaty hair out of his eyes.
"Good mor- oh, hello Elizabeth," he smiled. "What are you doing here...." he scowled when he saw the pirate. "What is she doing here?"
"Apparently she needs to talk to you. About something private."
Will was confused. And he looked it. Elizabeth smiled to herself... he had such a cute confused face.
"It's about your father," said Annamaria. She sounded very businesslike and gruff. Elizabeth guessed that she didn't want to be here.
"What about him," asked Will. Elizabeth didn't smile this time but... he had such a cute sad face.
"Captain Jack Sparrow thinks he could be alive," Annamaria answered abruptly. Elizabeth didn't believe her in the least. This was just another plan of Jack's. It had to be. But Will had one of his rare looks of dawning comprehension. Elizabeth decided she would beleive Annamaria after all. Will had such a cute dawning comprehension face.
"I had thought about that..." said Will. "I had wondered... because he couldn't die, so perhaps he got out. But I doubt dear old Jack would be willing to help me again."
Elizabeth sighed. Her husband was just so stupid sometimes. Of course, he had a very cute stupid face, but it would be nice if he had just a little common sense. Of course Jack was willing to help them find Will's father. Why else would he have sent Annamaria? The only question was, what would he want in return? Because Captain Jack Sparrow never did anything for nothing.
"Well," said Annamaria, "he's offered to help you find him. If you want to. He is a pirate after all."
"Of course I want to," said Will, offended, "he was-- is-- my father!"
"Meet me at the dock at midnight then," Annamaria said brusquely. And without another word she strode out the door and dissapeared down an alley.
