Chapter 2: Useful
Jane doesn't ask where the pirates are going. As far as she is concerned, the less she knows, the better. At first the crew keeps their distance from her. Though she sleeps in a hammock like the rest of them, Mr. Gibbs is obliged to keep an eye on her to make sure that no one tries any mischief.
These circumstances bother Jane. She is not the type of person who enjoys being treated with cold and distant respect, so she sets about earning the genuine respect of everyone from the cabin boy to the captain himself.
In the evening, most of the crew gathers in the waist of the ship. They tell stories of their homes and sing old songs. The second night out of Tortuga, Jane decides to speak up.
"Has anyone ever heard the tale of Blackbeard?" she asks.
"O' course we did!" some sailors chorus. "What kinda pirate don't know 'bout 'him?"
She just smiles a little and then says, "Have you heard the story of how he decided to make a hell of his own?"
They glare warily at her, but she knows she has them. She delicately weaves a tapestry of words depicting Captain Teach and his terrible beard, and the incident in which he took some of his men into the hold, closed up the hatches, and built brimstone fires to see who could hold out the longest.
"And who do you think it was, men?" she asks, glancing at the pirates around her. "What do you say, Mr. Cotton?"
"Man overboard!" squaks Cotton's parrot.
"That's right," she continues, not missing a beat. "Old Blackbeard nearly suffocated himself, but he held out longer than the other two."
A ripple of approval passes through the crowd. Jack looks on from the wheel, closing his compass with a snap. The little lady had held a bunch of scurvy pirates spellbound by telling them a tar's tale. He was quite impressed.
Later, when the night watch comes on, they go to his cabin to begin the literary work. Aided by his faithful rum bottle, Jack narrates a story so unbelievable that Jane drops her pen several times in astonishment, leaving large ink blots on the paper.
"Cursed skeleton pirates? Do you really think anyone will believe this, Jack?"
"Well that's your job. You make them believe. This is the truth, luv, every single word of it." He streaches and yawns. "Tell me about yourself now. Who's your family?"
"My father was a solicitor. He died in America a few years ago." This is a lie. Her father is currently a surgeon in the British Royla Navy, and has disowned her. "My mother was a gipsy. She died when I was a baby." This is true. Jane isn't intending to tell the truth, it just comes out.
Jack nods and smirks. "Bet his parents didn't exactly approve of the match. Quite a Romeo and Juliet story, innit?"
Jane raises an eyebrow. "What kind of pirate makes Shakespeare references?"
She spends the next day making sense of the notes she took on Jack's story. She wants to tone it down, but Jack won't hear of it. He insists that everything is true and that several people could vouch for him, but Jane doesn't bother making inquiries.
As the days pass, Jack begins to doubt Jane's sanity. She has started to dress like a man and the crew treat her like a younger sister. He supposes that she must remind them of a sister, or maybe a mother, or a daughter, or a wife. But definitely not a favorite prostitute. She tells by far the best stories, even better than Gibbs. "Aye, sea turtles," Jack murmurs to himself. If she believes her own stories, as a part of her must because she tells them so well, then why is it so difficult for her to believe his? Most wenches hear the words "cursed treasure" and can't keep their hands off him, but this one is different. Ahh well. She'll be convinced eventually, he is sure.
When they go to his cabin that night, he tells her to put her pen away. "We're nearing our destination," he says enigmatically.
"I'll leave then," she says quickly, getting up to leave. Her intuition tells her to suspect something. There must have been a reason he called her in . . .
"Stay Jane," he says. "I want to tell you something. We are a few leagues away from the Isla de Muerta. I want you to accompany me onto the island so you can see the place for yourself. And I have a . . . er, an errand to do. Yes!" He takes a swig of rum and offers her the bottle, which she accetps.
Pirates are one thing. But curses? Jane doesn't want to get involved, but it seems to be too late.
"You're taking a piece of gold. Why?"
He looks surprised. "Very astute observation, luv. When I put the little gold coin back into the little stone chest, I thought it might be useful to be immortal sometime. Will wanted me to destroy the compass, but I wouldn't do it. He's a bloody eunuch anyway," he grumbles, snatching back the bottle and taking another swig. "Ye see," he continues, voice slurring, hand gestures becoming larger, "I 'heard of this ship called The Royal Henry. She's loaded wi' treasure; gold, gems, rum . . ." he trails off and drains the rest of the bottle. "But it cannot be taken by any mortal captain."
Jane stares, aghast at this impossibility. She stammers, "Er, Jack, you've just swallowed that entire bottle of rum. I don't believe you're thinking clearly!"
"I didn't swallow it, Janet, I Sparrowed it!"
A/N: Gotta love puns. Come on people, SOMEONE must have read this story!! First reviewer gets a cool pirate hat!!