All things grow in time, except grief…
France. What the hell was he thinking taking them to France? Anamaria thought as she stomped furiously through the wretched countryside.
Something had definitely been eating at him. Even before he made the ominous announcement to the crew that their destination was to be changed, she knew something bothered him. No doubt he ran from some demon from his past and he seemed disinclined to discuss it and she'd been just as content to leave him to it. In the past he'd gone through spells of this nature and always managed to surface after a few days.
Well that thinking was quickly squashed when after three days hold up in his cabin, he surface on deck. Looking disheveled and exhausted, wobbly and unkempt he bellowed a new course. No longer would they maintain their destination for safe respite in Port au Prince. Instead, they would adjust sail and make way for Port Vendres just off the coast of France, a fool's advent at best.
The crew had taken it well at first. They had faith in Ana and Gibbs ability to change the captain's mind and make him see reason. But during the two-week journey, as they approached the Mediterranean Sea that had not happened.
Time and time again they had approached him, and time and time again he'd been adamant and unwavering in his decision. If anyone did not wish to go, they could start swimming; it made no difference to him.
Neither First Mate nor Quartermaster had ever seen him like this. Deep in his cups and miserable to boot, there seemed to reside a profound pain within his soul. What made this one different was that for the first time since he and Ana began sharing his cabin, she could not get him to share this problem. The more she persisted, the further away he pushed until he eventually stopped sleeping in his bed, with her. When he did sleep he chose the deck of the ship, near the helm. In his avoidance, he figuratively and literally shut her out.
At that point, it had been a daily effort for Gibbs and her to convince the crew not to mutiny. The struggle only increased once they realized the small Port to which they headed lay just on the border between France and Spain. Caught, they would be, between a rock and a hard place if trouble arose. An enemy on one side was bad enough, but if trouble came from both directions…? Needless to say, the prospect made the crew extremely nervous and tense.
While Jack had no aversion to risking his own life, it was extremely rare to put his crew and ship in such jeopardy. Therefore, it should have come as no surprise to them when, two days away from land, Jack had sneaked out, lowered a long boat and rowed to port all on his onesies. Blast that man.
Oh well, she thought as she stomped down the dusty road, at least his trail had been easy to follow. Someone like Jack Sparrow passing through would never go unnoticed. The figure he cut in any town would pretty much guarantee against anonymity or discretion and for that, she was extremely grateful. At the same time, the gratitude was tempered with fear, as he also tended to garner attention from the wrong sort as well. During her search, she'd been told that he'd been in at least two brawls and she wondered what condition she'd find him in.
Well, best cross that bridge when she came to it. First things first, find Jack.
And she did, exactly where the old woman with the oxen had said she'd seen him last; at the graveyard outside town.
Alone he stood at the foot of one grave, hat in hand. Watching from a distance she hesitated in her approach. Then, she saw him do something she'd never seen him do before, kneel. Dropping to one knee he lowered his head to one hand. Silently she wondered who on God's green earth could evoke such emotion from this man.
Ana looked at the slowly setting sun and realized the hour. She had been given only two days by the crew to find Jack and get back to the Pearl. That deadline was fast approaching. Slowly she made her way up the grassy hill, toward her obviously grieving friend.
"Jack?" She said hesitantly, looking at his back.
"Ana, have ye ever lost someone you never knew and mourned for 'em? In that last raid, I found a book and in it was the most amazing quote, it said, 'the dead have nothing except the memory they've left'. Well, I have no memory of her, not even a bad one. Only the knowledge that I was the cause of her death."
The faded grave marker was barely readable, but in the dying sunlight Ana could still make it out, 'Amilee'.
"Who was she?"
"My mother."
The pain in his voice tore at her heart and Ana closed her eyes as the sorrow washed over her. He sounded so alone. Desperately she wanted to remedy that and moved up beside him to place a hand on his shoulder.
"You said you were the cause of her death." Ana continued softly. "How can that be?"
"Simple," he said rising to his feet, "she died giving birth to me, and today is the anniversary of her death."
"That makes today your-?"
"Day of birth, aye. Not the best way to mark the advent of one's birth, eh?"
"Jack." Ana reached up and turned him to face her. What she saw was nearly more than she could bear. He had dried blood and bruises on his face, and no doubt there were others elsewhere, but that wasn't what stole her breath. It was the pained expression in his eyes… it made her soul tremble. "You can't blame yourself for her death. No one else would."
Pulling away suddenly, he put some distance between them before speaking again. "No? My own Da blamed me. He took care of me until I was about six years old, but then couldn't stand the sight of me. Left me with that witch, Grasielle in Tortuga."
"But at six years, how could you know that was his reason?"
"Because he visited a few times, and when I was ten, he was drunk enough to tell me to my face. I looked like her and he couldn't stand to be around me. It was the first time he ever visited me on my birth date."
Ana searched for the right words to say, only she came up empty each time. Certainly the low-life excuse for a father had been wrong, but the words Jack heard as a child, so cruel and spiteful, would be the hardest to wipe away. So, instead of speaking she walked over to his side and took his hand. Their eyes met and the haunted look that had been there earlier, seemed to slowly melt away.
"I'm all right, love." He said with a weak grin. "And I'm sorry for what I put you and the crew through these last few weeks." Gently he raised her hand up and brushed a kiss across the tops of her knuckles. "Forgive me?"
"Of course, ye fool." Chuckling, she pulled her hand out of his and grinned as she lightly boxed him on one shoulder. "Just, next time, try not to let there be a next time."
Jack grinned in response, "Aye. I'll try. So, how long do we have?"
"Until morning was all Gibbs and I could get the crew to agree to. We'd best be leaving 'cause there's a lot o' distance to cover between here and then."
"We'll make it. I just need to do one more thing…" Jack reached into his pocket and fished out a small, folded piece of paper and slowly began opening it. After one or two deep breaths he began, "The woman on the road back there. Did you see her? The one with the oxen?"
Ana thought a moment then nodded. "Aye."
"She was the midwife and was with my mother before she died. She gave me this piece of paper when I was on my way here. Written here are the last words my mother said and she made the other woman promise to give them to me some day." He squinted into the lowing sunlight and read, "'I believe that if I should die, and you were to walk near my grave, from the very depths of the earth, I would hear your footsteps.'"
Jack stepped forward and placed the piece of paper under a rock near the head of the grave marker. Still kneeling, he stayed there, still and quiet.
Suddenly, he stood and turned to face her. Grabbing her hand he walked in long, hurried strides toward the open gate leaving the cemetery.
"Where are we going?" Ana asked. At the rate he pulled her along, she practically had to run to maintain pace.
"Why, back to the Pearl, of course. By my calculations," he continued heading toward the woods, "we have roughly eleven hours before they leave."
Just then Ana realized they were headed the wrong way. "But, the Pearl's back that way." She pointed trying to twist around. He wouldn't release her hand and she jerked back in their current direction. What she saw made her dig her heels into the dirt. "Oh, no. No way, Jack." He dropped her hand and she backed away shaking her head vehemently.
Jack now walked toward her leading a rather large black horse out of the trees. He gathered the reins and some of the animal's mane into one hand and lithely vaulted up onto its back. After kicking a foot out of one stirrup, he extended a hand to her and said, "Come on. This is the only way we're going to make it in time, love."
"You're not getting me on top of that… that… beast!" She said as she continued backing away. "There's a reason why I chose ships over horses, Jack. I don't trust those wretched animals, and they don't trust me."
"Careful, love, don't insult dear Porthos here." Jack said feigning a hurt look. Pressing his heels to the animals' sides he urged the horse toward the retreating female pirate. "He's got very sensitive feelings, you know."
"I'll… I'll just meet you back at the ship." Then she turned and ran.
It wasn't long before the sound of thundering hooves reached her ears. Still running, Ana turned and watched through terrified eyes as Jack and the black beast soon overtook her. He leaned out of the saddle and with one arm hauled her aboard in front of him. A squeak of surprise was all she could manage, but the horse never once slowed.
To frightened to speak, she turned her face into Jack's chest, wrapped her arms around his torso and held on for dear life. In her mind, she swore he'd pay for this once they reached the Pearl. Her hand already itched to do the job.
"That's better, love." He spoke close to her ear and his arm tightened around her. "Now, hurry up, Porthos. Pirate's aren't known for their patience- A little to late, is a lot to late."
fin
Author's Note #1: This is a bit of an Alternate Universe. If you read Best Intentions Gone Wrong, Jack's Ma died when he was about thirteen. Not so in this story. I'm working on a longer fic in which I will go back to the Best Intentions Gone Wrong universe and Jack's Ma will again become an issue. This one I wrote in this way for reasons I explain after the story. Read and enjoy. Review if you chose.
This one-shot was in response to a challenge on our MSN website called The Black Pearl Scrolls. The rule was to use any number of proverbs to build a story around and this was my addition. Hey, if you're a PotC writer, come give us a look, the link is on my bio page. We're all writers, for the most part, just looking for a little camaraderie in the PotC fandom. Feedback for stories and great challenges is what we're all about. We've a broad array of ages on our little schooner. Our youngest member, I believe, is fourteen and we go all the way up into our mid-forties!