A/N: Thanks, everyone! These reviews are definitely brightening my day since I am having major issues with my damn Internet service. I would really rather much like to change it to some other service, but no. My dad has to be Sir Butthead and say that there is nothing bloody wrong with our current Internet service. But believe me, there is! I keep getting a damn busy signal when I KNOW FOR A FACT that no one is on the phone and that every phone in the house is in its proper place. He just doesn't want to spend the money on the Internet when our current one is free. Well, let me tell you something: THERE IS NO POINT IN HAVING A FREE INTERNET SERVICE IF IT DOESN'T BLOODY WORK! coughs and looks around at the startled faces of her readers Sorry, had to get that off my chest. sweet smile
Secrets of the CaribbeanWritten By: Riley Barton
[Chapter Twelve]
The following night after her fever broke, Scarlett awoke to find herself alone in her small cabin. Soft golden beams of moonlight fell onto her face from the porthole above her berth, and she sat there basking in its presence. She reached up to her forehead and massaged it gently. She had a vague headache, but she knew it was nothing a simple walk on the main deck with the smell of the salty sea couldn't fix. She pushed aside the blankets that had been laid over her, numbering three in total, and set her bare feet on the wooden planking. Her head swam for a short while, but soon disappeared, much to her relief, and she changed out of the simple nightgown she wore into a pair of beige-coloured pants and a long-sleeved black top. She ran a brush through her tangled blonde hair, knowing it would only grow worse in the harsh ocean breeze, and laced up her boots.
Scarlet quietly made her way above deck, smiling as the scent of the ocean came to greet her and the wind caressed her cheeks. She sighed, glad to be her old self again. Lying in bed for days was not something she would have chosen, as was being so helpless to where other's had to care for you. She had been too dependent on others during her childhood, but she wasn't any longer. She was her own person and she relied on no one.
Seeming to be in her own thoughts, Scarlett walked to the railing and leaned out over it. She instantly regretted it and jerked back, swinging sharply around to scan the deck behind her. Her heart raced as she recalled the dream she had had during her feverish sleep, and the thought that her father could be anywhere close frightened her. After a few quiet moments of only the sound of the ship's creaking and the wind blowing, she grew irritated with herself. Cursing her own stupidity and fright, she turned back to the ship's railing and stared out across the ocean.
The dream was still present in her mind, and she made a vain effort to make it disappear. Stubbornly it refused, forcing her to recall what had happened. The words she had shouted at Jack formed on her tongue. She could hear her own voice reverberating on the air as if she were saying them aloud. The harsh and desperateness in her voice surprised her, and she could only hope she hadn't said any of those words aloud. What if someone had heard her?
She looked up, over her shoulder to the helm of the ship. The helm had been tied with a rope to keep it on course, but from where she was standing it seemed that the rope was about to come untied.
Scarlett climbed the ladder and stood before the helm, securing the poorly done knot. Whoever had tied it had not done a good job. It must have been Will; Jack never would have been hardly so careless. Once again I save your bloody ship, Jack, she thought. How did you ever do without me for all those eleven long years?
She clambered back down the ladder and headed to the galley. Her stomach was rumbling and she felt as if she had not eaten in days, which she was quite sure she hadn't. Passing through the mess, she continued into the galley. Taking all the time in the world, she began routing through the galley's contents in hope of finding a midnight snack. She came to realize there wasn't much left in the larder and that the water was running out. They would need to stop somewhere soon to gather supplies. She satisfied herself with an apple, a small chuck of bread, and a quarter-filled glass of water. Though the bread and apple didn't wholly satisfy her, it was enough until the next day.
Back outside again, she looked about at the ocean in the distance and up at the mast, the large canvas sails billowing in the harsh wind. The rocking of the Black Pearl beneath her, the smell of salt water, and the sound of the ocean waves lapping up against the Pearl's sides: all these were familiar things that she had missed during the eleven years she had spent on land. Of course, she had still been busy and had (or still did, she should say) lived by the ocean, but nothing compared to being surrounded by the ocean on all sides of you.
Scarlett stifled a yawn and turned to go below to her cabin, but paused when she saw the faint glow of a lantern shining from underneath the closed double doors that led into Jack's cabin. Hesitating, she furiously fought over the urge to go in and see what he was doing. She eventually gave in, convincing herself that the only reason was because she wanted to know what had happened during the past few days she had been unconscious. She had a lot to be filled in on, after all.
Not bothering to knock, she turned the knob of one of the doors and pushed it open. She stepped inside and looked around, her brow furrowing. There was no one in the cabin. She gently closed the door, sill searching for any sign of Jack. Where else could he be if he wasn't in here? She walked further inside. Two lanterns, one by the bed and the other resting on the desk, were lit. One of Jack's many maps had been spread across the desk, and a chipped cup and a half eaten apple sat near the lantern.
Curious, Scarlett walked around the desk and looked down at the map. It was of Jamaica with all the seaports labeled; a red star had been drawn over Port Royal. Pencil lines had been drawn all over the map going from one port to the other and back again. Figures had been written at the bottom left hand corner in Jack's familiar, scrawled handwriting, and then to the far right were more figures, only this time they were not written in Jack's handwriting -it was hers.
She let her eyes travel away from the map to the many desk drawers. She lowered herself into the desk chair and pulled out the only drawer on the left. Rolled up maps, scrolls, miscellaneous pieces of parchment, and a flagon of rum were all that was inside. After having removed the rum from the drawer, she closed it and opened the bottom door on the right. More maps and scrolls, along with a couple of log books. Again, she closed the drawer. Pausing to remove the stopper from the rum flagon, she took a small sip from it and set it on the desk atop the map. She pulled open the remaining drawer. The only thing she found in this drawer was blank pieces of parchment that had been stuffed inside in a haphazard manner. She closed the door roughly, annoyed that she had found nothing interesting.
The sound of something sliding across a wooden surface and then bumping into a wall met her ears. She froze, listening, but the sound didn't come again. Swallowing another gulp of rum from the flagon, she looked across the desk top and the floor, searching for what could have made the noise. She found nothing and looked to the drawer she had recently closed. Could the noise have come from there? But the drawer's only contents had been the pieces of parchment. Or were they?
Scarlett yanked the drawer open again, and again the sound echoed in the silent cabin. A mischievous smile crossed her lips. She removed the parchment from the drawer and set them on the desk by the flagon. Once the drawer was empty, she ran her hand along the bottom and sides of the drawer, searching for a hidden button or an indent that would remove the false bottom. She found one on the right side. The bottom came out with ease, clear evidence that the bottom was removed often. What could Jack have hidden in there that he would take out so many times?
She saw nothing at first, but when she reached into the back of the drawer her hands grasped something, and she pulled it out. It was a large wooden box, simple in design; something any commoner could purchase in the market. She flipped up the small golden-coloured clasp, the colour fading from so much use, and lifted the top. Her eyes widened in shock at the object nestled inside the box's velvet interior. "Oh my God," she whispered. "It can't be." Her finger gently brushed the gem's surface before jerking her hand away and snapping the box shut. Without thinking she tucked the box into the waistband of her pants, choosing to ignore how the box dug into her body. She replaced the false drawer bottom, added the black pieces of parchment to the drawer, and closed it.
Without looking back or even once wondering where Jack could have been, she returned to her berth, hid the box in a jumble of clothing stashed in a chest at the foot of her bed, and slid into bed. She didn't fall asleep until an hour later.
A/N: I'm so sorry this chapter is so damn short, but it's been forever since I last updated, and with Hurricane Isabel about to erupt on the little tiny city I live in, I doubt it would be up by the end of this weekend, what with the weather and my busy, hectic weekend. So I figured I would post what I have and keep you guys wondering what it was Scarlett found. Of course, some of you smart readers already know what it is, but that's okay. Lease don't kill me for the wait or the shortness of this chapter. Please!!!!!!