[I'm back! Camp was a blast and I am pumped to finish this story so I can take a break from writing. I'm moving soon and I don't want to be tied down by my stories so I can't pack.]
In the cool early morning, a wagon creaked down main street in London. The back of the wagon was covered with a canvas tarp. Driving it was a young woman wearing a black cape.
"Jack," I whispered nervously into the tarp. "Are you sure that this is going to work?"
He poked his head out and smirked at me. "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, luv. My plans always work."
The guards stopped us at the gate. " 'ello ma'am. Wot's your business?"
I tightened my grip on the reins. "I'm here to see the general."
The guard smiled. "Is that so? Wot business would he have with the likes o' yew?"
I stuttered. "The general has been sent a special cask of wine, all the way from the Caribbean."
"Really now? Who sen' it?"
"Governor Swann of Port Royal."
The guard looked behind me at another wagon. "Alright. Go in." The gate opened and my wagon went through. When I reached the center of the complex, I jumped down from the wagon and started to roll back the tarp.
A hand covered mine. "Here, let me help you with that." I turned and stared into the face of Commodore Norrington.
I backed away and almost tripped. "Norrington! What are you doing here?"
He reached up and took the wine barrel from the wagon. "Governor Swann sent me to England. Said something about disrupting his family." He began to roll the cask.
"No, don't do that!" I shrieked.
He stopped. "Why not?"
"Um, um, this is a special cask of wine. It has to be carried or it will ruin its quality." Norrington looked at me funny, but picked the barrel up.
He grunted. "What is in this barrel? It's as heavy as rocks!" He looked at me for an answer, but I just smiled.
"This way, Norrington." He carried the barrel, with some difficulty to the general's room.
A big black chair was facing the back wall and the person sitting in it was unknown. "Norrington," it said. "Set the cask down and leave us." Norrington dumped the barrel on the floor and it rolled over to the desk.
The barrel made noise. The chair laughed. "You can let him out."
I leaned over and popped the lid off. Jack tumbled out with a groan.
"Next time, I'll hide behind your cloak," he said, before coming in contact with the floor.
I helped Jack up as the chair spun around. The man in the chair smiled at us.
Jack blinked and rubbed his eyes. "No. No, it can't be."
"You didn't think that you'd see me again, did you. You thought that you left me for dead with bullet holes in my chest. Well, if you can survive them, then I can. Like father, like son."
Jack swayed and leaned against me. "That was 6 years ago."
I looked from Jack to the man. "Jack, what's he talking about?"
The man smiled. "I didn't think that you would tell her."
"Tell me what?" I looked at Jack who was very angry.
"Well, go on. Tell her, son."
Jack hesitated. "He's…he's…my father."
[Dun dun dun! Okay, I've been sitting here forever thinking of something to write. Come back on Monday and read the next chapter!]