Author's Note: I still don't own POTC, I don't make a dime off of
this, and I probably never will. But Ana is mine, as is Mistress Irene and
Master Grant. By the way, this chapter may have a lot of stuff going on
but it all takes place in a short amount of time. I know I said this was
going to be longer but I'm trying to break things up the best I can. And
yes, this is supposed to be a "What the heck is she doing?!" chapter.
Sandlover: "Commandeer" is such a cool word. It starts to look funny when you read it over and over again! But hey, maybe that's just me. Can't wait to read more of your story! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As she tore through Port Royal making her way from the harbor to her store, Ana tried to formulate a plan. 'How on earth am I going to get on that ship? I know there's a way but what is it?!' She continued to run at full speed through the dusty streets, ignoring the staring faces that were watching her from all sides. 'What do they matter now? I'm getting back on the water!' She made a quick left turn and almost collided with an old woman carrying a large basket of fish. "Oy! Watch where you're going, you!" she yelled after Ana who continued as fast as she could without a word of apology to the old spinster. 'Darn it, Jack,' she continued her endless train of thought, 'Why did you have to make this so complicated. She made another turn but made sure to keep closer to the wall so as not to run into any more people. When she was about three doors away from her store front, she saw six blue uniformed men, milling about looking in the windows of her shop. She skidded to a halt, 'Of course! They're loading the ship! They placed an order for provisions last week! At least they'll finally serve some purpose. Oh, this is perfect!'
She tried to compose herself as she hurried over to the military men. "I'm dreadfully sorry to have kept you waiting, sirs," she replied in a honeyed voice. "What with the terrifying events of last night, I've been in a right state." A very tall soldier stepped forward and said, "That is quite alright, miss. But we are making ready the Interceptor and she is low on supplies, did you fill our order?" Ana did her best to try and look grieved, "It is my deepest regret that most of your order was destroyed last night. If you could spare me twenty minutes, sir, I will do my best to provide you with your necessities." The tall soldier nodded his head sharply. "I will put the parcels here in the entry way but I will require your payment now," Ana said, regaining her businesslike manner. A shorter blue coated soldier broke in, "What? Pay without the goods in hand? Why that's absurd business operation!" The other men, nodded and murmured in agreement.
Ana looked the tall soldier that had initiated the exchange square in the eye and said in an unyielding tone, "Sir, for as long as I have been in Port Royal and provided the community with my wares, have I ever cheated the British Navy in any transactions between the fort and my shop?" The soldier looked down at her with mild consideration and replied, "Too right, miss. We shall return in twenty minutes time to retrieve our order. How many parcels will there be?" "Five," she replied hastily. "Five? We surely did not order that much." 'C'mon, Ana, think! How would Father cover this?' she thought, her mind whirring. "Oh, no certainly your company did not order that much but another did. I have an order of extra linens to go aboard the Interceptor as well." 'Whew, that's a good one.' "Very well," said the commanding officer, "We will pay you for our order now, but we cannot pay you for the second order from this other company." "No, no, sir. That order was paid before hand, in trust and good faith. There is no money due on it. It would do your shipmates well, and make you look rather committed, if it's not too bold of me to say, if you were to take back both orders."
The man nodded is white-wigged head, looking anxious to show his loyalty. "Yes, yes, we will retrieve both orders shortly. But I must ask, why are you requiring payment for the goods now?" inquired the officer as he withdrew a small money purse. Ana had a reply ready, "What with all of the damage incurred by those pirates, there is much to be done in the community and help is greatly required by all. There is an elderly gentlemen a few streets over whose stockpile of wood is in complete disarray and I am in debt to him so I must go and see to his aid." "Ah, I see," was the unconcerned reply, "What was the agreed price for the order?" 'I'm wasting time,' she thought savagely. "Fifteen pounds," she barked. The soldiers jumped in unison, startled by the harshness in her voice. The tall officer continued to look unperturbed as he counted out the money from the leather pouch in his hand. "Fifteen pounds? Why so low?" Ana blushed in fury and replied through gritted teeth, "Sir, my store was ransacked in the night, I fear the quality of my wares will not be up to the usual standards." "Alright, miss, we will return shortly for our purchase," he said, placing the money in Ana's palm. "Thank you, sir. I would bring strong men, sir, the linen is of a course cloth and can be quite heavy." "Thank you, miss, we will manage. Good day." "Good day, sir."
Ana rushed to let herself inside. Shutting and locking the door, she threw herself across the room, and started to grab random loaves of bread that had been scattered. She couldn't remember what the navy's order had been, but it didn't matter. She rolled two empty barrels into the middle of the room. She rummaged around her storeroom and found two old crates. 'Ok, one more barrel and that will make five,' she thought. She unlocked her door and ran out into the middle of the street. Looking both ways, she saw the glassblower's wife sweeping the steps of their shop. The woman had been one of the few citizens that were courteous to Ana whenever she came in contact with her. Ana hurried towards her, dodging loose chickens in her path. "Mistress Irene, Mistress Irene!" she called out. The paunchy woman looked up from her chore and shouted back, "Ay! What can I help ye with, young Ana?" Ana approached the woman breathless with anxiety. "Please, Mistress Irene, the Royal Navy is returning shortly to pick up an order that I do not have ready! Please say you have an empty barrel that is of no use to you!" The patriotic woman threw down her broom, "Ay, the Royal Navy! Let's see what we can do for you, child!" She hustled Ana to the back of the store, which was a mess of shattered glass in every colour imaginable. They went out the back door to a dingy alley, which still carried the stench of charred wood. Mistress Irene shoved aside some old weathered crates and revealed a slightly worse for wear barrel. "Will this do ye?" "Yes, if it has a lid!" "Here ye be, a bit dusty I'm afraid, but should suit the purpose," she said, picking up a rather dirty lid from the other side of the barrel. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Ana made to begin rolling the barrel through the store. "No, no, heaven's no, child. We can't have none of that. Let me get my husband." Ana straightened herself, expecting to have to wait for both the glassblower and his wife to return to the alley. Instead of going to look for her husband, however, Mistress Irene opened her wide mouth and bellowed, "GRANT ANDERSON! WHERE ARE YE? COME AND HELP A YOUNG LADY!" She turned and looked at Ana, "He'll be here shortly, dear." Ana smiled weakly, thinking that her ringing ears would never hear properly again.
Through the back door of the glass shop came a burly man with a mass of blonde curls on his head. "What are ye hollering on about, ye old nag?" he grumbled as he scuffed out into the alley. "Watch yer mouth around Ana, ye dirty bat. She needs this barrel to fill an order and I don't want her rolling it like a farmhand. Carry it for her to her shop." "Please, Master Grant, it would be most appreciated," pleaded Ana. Grant Anderson looked at her and said, "Eh, how could I refuse that pretty face? Come along, girl, you'll have your barrel." Ana smiled in relief and thanked them both. Master Grant relieved himself of the barrel at the door of Ana's domain. "Many thanks, sir," Ana bowed. "Consider it nothing, if you've got some of those sweet apples around, eh?" he hinted hopefully. Ana said with honest regret, "I'm sorry, Master Grant, but they were stolen when we were invaded." The well-aged man looked disappointed, "Dirty pirates, ruining the dwellings of those that make an honest living." Before Ana's temper flared up, she offered him some sweet buttermilk she had seen in her storeroom. "Ay, that would be a right pep up, that would," agreed Mr. Anderson. Ana hurried inside and grabbed the red clay jug. She pushed it into the man's calloused hands. "You mean to give me the whole thing, girl?" he asked, eyes wide. "To you and your wife, for the kindness you have shown me, sir." "Ay, you're a good girl, Ana. God bless ye." "And you, Master Grant," she said gently as she watched the good man hurry away with the red jug under his arm.
She left the empty barrel and it's lid outside her doorway. She finished packing random baked goods and dried fruits and nuts into one barrel and the crates inside, leaving one barrel empty. She pushed the filled parcels out and closed them properly, moving them to the side of the street so that they were in front of the broken window instead of blocking the door. She had only a few more minutes to spare. She took to the stares two at a time. She ran to her linen cupboards and found the course white tablecloths she used to cover her counters in the wintertime. Rolling them up and clutching them under her arm, she grabbed the blankets that had been on her bed only two nights before. She collected all of her savings including the payment of the navy she had just received into a small purse. She also pulled out her dresser drawers and balled up some extra garments she knew she would need before the venture was through. Along with her weaponry, she dashed back down the stairs and threw most of the linens into the empty barrel that was still inside, keeping only two tablecloths aside. She closed it and moved it outside to stand by the others. She threw her belongings into the bottom of the empty barrel but kept the tablecloths out for further use. Looking at the barrels, she thought, 'Yes, they would be nosy enough. Better label them.' She tore back to her damaged counter and found a piece of red chalk lying precariously on the edge, close to rolling off and shattering on the floor. She grabbed it and ran back outside. She labeled each parcel with what it contained, writing "textile" on the barrel that held the blankets and tablecloths and on the one that held her belongings. She threw the chalk aside and closed the door of her shop. She took one last look at her sign hanging by a single hinge above the door and turned her back on the building.
Looking in every direction down the street, she took hold of the tablecloths and bunched them around her neck and shoulders. She grasped the dusty lid in her hand, stood on one of the crates labeled "dry goods," and climbed into the half empty barrel. Crouching down, she pulled the lid tightly onto the barrel, concealing her from view and pulled the cloth over her head, covering her dark hair. In her cramped quarters, she waited for the soldiers of the British Navy to return.
Sandlover: "Commandeer" is such a cool word. It starts to look funny when you read it over and over again! But hey, maybe that's just me. Can't wait to read more of your story! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As she tore through Port Royal making her way from the harbor to her store, Ana tried to formulate a plan. 'How on earth am I going to get on that ship? I know there's a way but what is it?!' She continued to run at full speed through the dusty streets, ignoring the staring faces that were watching her from all sides. 'What do they matter now? I'm getting back on the water!' She made a quick left turn and almost collided with an old woman carrying a large basket of fish. "Oy! Watch where you're going, you!" she yelled after Ana who continued as fast as she could without a word of apology to the old spinster. 'Darn it, Jack,' she continued her endless train of thought, 'Why did you have to make this so complicated. She made another turn but made sure to keep closer to the wall so as not to run into any more people. When she was about three doors away from her store front, she saw six blue uniformed men, milling about looking in the windows of her shop. She skidded to a halt, 'Of course! They're loading the ship! They placed an order for provisions last week! At least they'll finally serve some purpose. Oh, this is perfect!'
She tried to compose herself as she hurried over to the military men. "I'm dreadfully sorry to have kept you waiting, sirs," she replied in a honeyed voice. "What with the terrifying events of last night, I've been in a right state." A very tall soldier stepped forward and said, "That is quite alright, miss. But we are making ready the Interceptor and she is low on supplies, did you fill our order?" Ana did her best to try and look grieved, "It is my deepest regret that most of your order was destroyed last night. If you could spare me twenty minutes, sir, I will do my best to provide you with your necessities." The tall soldier nodded his head sharply. "I will put the parcels here in the entry way but I will require your payment now," Ana said, regaining her businesslike manner. A shorter blue coated soldier broke in, "What? Pay without the goods in hand? Why that's absurd business operation!" The other men, nodded and murmured in agreement.
Ana looked the tall soldier that had initiated the exchange square in the eye and said in an unyielding tone, "Sir, for as long as I have been in Port Royal and provided the community with my wares, have I ever cheated the British Navy in any transactions between the fort and my shop?" The soldier looked down at her with mild consideration and replied, "Too right, miss. We shall return in twenty minutes time to retrieve our order. How many parcels will there be?" "Five," she replied hastily. "Five? We surely did not order that much." 'C'mon, Ana, think! How would Father cover this?' she thought, her mind whirring. "Oh, no certainly your company did not order that much but another did. I have an order of extra linens to go aboard the Interceptor as well." 'Whew, that's a good one.' "Very well," said the commanding officer, "We will pay you for our order now, but we cannot pay you for the second order from this other company." "No, no, sir. That order was paid before hand, in trust and good faith. There is no money due on it. It would do your shipmates well, and make you look rather committed, if it's not too bold of me to say, if you were to take back both orders."
The man nodded is white-wigged head, looking anxious to show his loyalty. "Yes, yes, we will retrieve both orders shortly. But I must ask, why are you requiring payment for the goods now?" inquired the officer as he withdrew a small money purse. Ana had a reply ready, "What with all of the damage incurred by those pirates, there is much to be done in the community and help is greatly required by all. There is an elderly gentlemen a few streets over whose stockpile of wood is in complete disarray and I am in debt to him so I must go and see to his aid." "Ah, I see," was the unconcerned reply, "What was the agreed price for the order?" 'I'm wasting time,' she thought savagely. "Fifteen pounds," she barked. The soldiers jumped in unison, startled by the harshness in her voice. The tall officer continued to look unperturbed as he counted out the money from the leather pouch in his hand. "Fifteen pounds? Why so low?" Ana blushed in fury and replied through gritted teeth, "Sir, my store was ransacked in the night, I fear the quality of my wares will not be up to the usual standards." "Alright, miss, we will return shortly for our purchase," he said, placing the money in Ana's palm. "Thank you, sir. I would bring strong men, sir, the linen is of a course cloth and can be quite heavy." "Thank you, miss, we will manage. Good day." "Good day, sir."
Ana rushed to let herself inside. Shutting and locking the door, she threw herself across the room, and started to grab random loaves of bread that had been scattered. She couldn't remember what the navy's order had been, but it didn't matter. She rolled two empty barrels into the middle of the room. She rummaged around her storeroom and found two old crates. 'Ok, one more barrel and that will make five,' she thought. She unlocked her door and ran out into the middle of the street. Looking both ways, she saw the glassblower's wife sweeping the steps of their shop. The woman had been one of the few citizens that were courteous to Ana whenever she came in contact with her. Ana hurried towards her, dodging loose chickens in her path. "Mistress Irene, Mistress Irene!" she called out. The paunchy woman looked up from her chore and shouted back, "Ay! What can I help ye with, young Ana?" Ana approached the woman breathless with anxiety. "Please, Mistress Irene, the Royal Navy is returning shortly to pick up an order that I do not have ready! Please say you have an empty barrel that is of no use to you!" The patriotic woman threw down her broom, "Ay, the Royal Navy! Let's see what we can do for you, child!" She hustled Ana to the back of the store, which was a mess of shattered glass in every colour imaginable. They went out the back door to a dingy alley, which still carried the stench of charred wood. Mistress Irene shoved aside some old weathered crates and revealed a slightly worse for wear barrel. "Will this do ye?" "Yes, if it has a lid!" "Here ye be, a bit dusty I'm afraid, but should suit the purpose," she said, picking up a rather dirty lid from the other side of the barrel. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Ana made to begin rolling the barrel through the store. "No, no, heaven's no, child. We can't have none of that. Let me get my husband." Ana straightened herself, expecting to have to wait for both the glassblower and his wife to return to the alley. Instead of going to look for her husband, however, Mistress Irene opened her wide mouth and bellowed, "GRANT ANDERSON! WHERE ARE YE? COME AND HELP A YOUNG LADY!" She turned and looked at Ana, "He'll be here shortly, dear." Ana smiled weakly, thinking that her ringing ears would never hear properly again.
Through the back door of the glass shop came a burly man with a mass of blonde curls on his head. "What are ye hollering on about, ye old nag?" he grumbled as he scuffed out into the alley. "Watch yer mouth around Ana, ye dirty bat. She needs this barrel to fill an order and I don't want her rolling it like a farmhand. Carry it for her to her shop." "Please, Master Grant, it would be most appreciated," pleaded Ana. Grant Anderson looked at her and said, "Eh, how could I refuse that pretty face? Come along, girl, you'll have your barrel." Ana smiled in relief and thanked them both. Master Grant relieved himself of the barrel at the door of Ana's domain. "Many thanks, sir," Ana bowed. "Consider it nothing, if you've got some of those sweet apples around, eh?" he hinted hopefully. Ana said with honest regret, "I'm sorry, Master Grant, but they were stolen when we were invaded." The well-aged man looked disappointed, "Dirty pirates, ruining the dwellings of those that make an honest living." Before Ana's temper flared up, she offered him some sweet buttermilk she had seen in her storeroom. "Ay, that would be a right pep up, that would," agreed Mr. Anderson. Ana hurried inside and grabbed the red clay jug. She pushed it into the man's calloused hands. "You mean to give me the whole thing, girl?" he asked, eyes wide. "To you and your wife, for the kindness you have shown me, sir." "Ay, you're a good girl, Ana. God bless ye." "And you, Master Grant," she said gently as she watched the good man hurry away with the red jug under his arm.
She left the empty barrel and it's lid outside her doorway. She finished packing random baked goods and dried fruits and nuts into one barrel and the crates inside, leaving one barrel empty. She pushed the filled parcels out and closed them properly, moving them to the side of the street so that they were in front of the broken window instead of blocking the door. She had only a few more minutes to spare. She took to the stares two at a time. She ran to her linen cupboards and found the course white tablecloths she used to cover her counters in the wintertime. Rolling them up and clutching them under her arm, she grabbed the blankets that had been on her bed only two nights before. She collected all of her savings including the payment of the navy she had just received into a small purse. She also pulled out her dresser drawers and balled up some extra garments she knew she would need before the venture was through. Along with her weaponry, she dashed back down the stairs and threw most of the linens into the empty barrel that was still inside, keeping only two tablecloths aside. She closed it and moved it outside to stand by the others. She threw her belongings into the bottom of the empty barrel but kept the tablecloths out for further use. Looking at the barrels, she thought, 'Yes, they would be nosy enough. Better label them.' She tore back to her damaged counter and found a piece of red chalk lying precariously on the edge, close to rolling off and shattering on the floor. She grabbed it and ran back outside. She labeled each parcel with what it contained, writing "textile" on the barrel that held the blankets and tablecloths and on the one that held her belongings. She threw the chalk aside and closed the door of her shop. She took one last look at her sign hanging by a single hinge above the door and turned her back on the building.
Looking in every direction down the street, she took hold of the tablecloths and bunched them around her neck and shoulders. She grasped the dusty lid in her hand, stood on one of the crates labeled "dry goods," and climbed into the half empty barrel. Crouching down, she pulled the lid tightly onto the barrel, concealing her from view and pulled the cloth over her head, covering her dark hair. In her cramped quarters, she waited for the soldiers of the British Navy to return.
