Whether I was his girl or no, something had changed between me and the
Captain, he would talk and jest with me often and when I least expected it
I would receive a brief brush of lips against my cheek or a squeeze of an
arm about my waist. It would send a warm thrill through me, but confused me
also.
****
It was midday, about a week since we had set off from Hispaniola, we must have been nearing the centre of the Caribbean sea, though what Jack hoped to find there I did not know. Merchant ships did not often cross the here alone because of the danger of pirates and we had no raids for two days. The crew became restless and full summer bore down upon us.
I was sheltering from the heat of the cloudless day in the galley. On deck the heat was unbearable and sweat streamed from the half-naked bodies of the crew. It the coolness of the galley I eyed the bacon hanging from the ceiling warily and planned the evening meal in my mind. The pirates were not fond of the high-class fayre I had been taught to cook at home, but this was fortunate as I was none to good at producing it. It seemed enough to brew up vats of porridge for breakfast and hearty stews with for dinner.
I hummed idly to myself and let my mind wander, drumming my fingers on the table. They seemed leaner and browner than when I had set out, the nails were stumpy and split in places and on the wrists were a couple of while scars from where I had clumsily burned myself while cooking in the great cauldron over the stove. I had not looked at my reflection for months, I wondering if the rest of me was much changed. My thoughts were interrupted by the door swinging open, letting in a gust of warm air. I was barely surprised to see Jack, since the hot weather had hit he would often visit me in my shady cavern.
"Afternoon darlin'." He bowed expansively and managed to retain his composure, though sweat was dripping off your nose. "I wonder if this 'umble pirate might beg a draught of cool water from this jewel of a scullery maid?"
"Scullery maid, my eye!" I retorted haughtily "Besides," I added, wrinkling my nose. "I will only grant you water if you are to bathe some of the filthy smell off with it." For the heat of the overhead sun had wrought its damage on Jack's armpits.
"Ah," Jack raised his eyebrows, a look of mock apology apon his face "I see my good scullery maid refers to my natural masculine aroma. But as the ladies wishes. Come;" He gestured to the pewter tub that hung on the door of the galley "Pour me a bath then, fair scullery wench and yer cap'n will soon smell sweet as roses."
"As my fair Captain wishes." I drew a jug of water from the barrel and poured it carefully into the tub, it barely covered the bottom. "There is a bath fit for a king."
"Thank ye' kindly, scullery." Jack began to shrug off his jacket, smirking "Though a true king would 'ave some help with 'is royal garments."
"Ahh, then my goodly king I must leave you - for I am only a mere scullery and could not hope to touch the king's robes." I retorted, laughing as his coat snagged on his scabbard and hung there. "I don't believe this king would refuse my help, however." I unhooked his jacket and handed it back to him giving an involuntary shiver as his hand brushed against mine.
"Scullery," He began, but something in my look stopped him. I had grown suddenly tired of this jest. King and scullery maid we were not, and it seemed I would never discovered what we were to each other.
"Jack, I..."
"Cathy." Jack spoke slowly and evenly, his hand brushing my tangled curls from my forehead. I felt faint and dizzy, my lips tingled and I itched to close the space between his face and mine. Jack's hands did not roam as they did when he was drunk, but clasped mine firmly. Our eyes were locked together and his face seemed to swim slightly in the stifled heat of the galley. Just as I made to lean forward there was a load, clear shout from the crew's nest:
"Land ahoy!"
The whole crew was on deck, watching as the dismal grey island rolled into view. I had never seem a place so desolate in my life, Tortuga was a paradise in comparison, was this what we were searching for? Surely not.
"The Isle De Muerta, lads." Jack spoke standing on the rail – hanging onto the rigging for support with one hand while he gestured expansively towards the island with the other "Right yer scurvy sea dogs, jump to it; Gibbs, Ana – run out the boats, and follow my course. You, you and you – up to the nest, keep a sharp look out." I stood still, in the middle of a hive of activity, then, as each left to carry out his own task I was alone, Jack looking out of his telescope, his back to me. I curled my toes against the dusty hot surface of the deck.
"And me?" Jack turned slightly and shot me a piercing look. At least I imagine it would have been piercing he wasn't still holding the telescope to his face.
"Yes?" He stepped forward, stopped, corrected the obvious mistake and carried on. "Yes?" "What shall a simple scullery maid do?" I smiled at him, trying to recapture the feeling between us a moment earlier.
"Yer'll come wiv' me I s'pose." He turned away as he spoke, his voice vague – he seemed drawn to that dingy island, though for the life of me I could not fathom why. Rather hurt at this sudden rebuke I quickly clambering into the boat after Jack.
So we set off, aiming for a cleft between two of the island's many black rocky splits of land. Jack rowing in silence, his back turned to me, stubbornly facing the island. I felt abandoned and ignored. While much had changed about me in the past months, I cannot deny I still resorted to sulks when slighted. The sun was unbearable, I felt jealous of the crew – able to strip down to their waists while I was bound with ribbons, lace and whalebone. Sweat beaded on my forehead and I wriggled impatiently on the boats rough seat.
"What so important about this Isle De Mwer-ta anyway?" I asked in my most cutting voice. Jack answered without even turning around.
"The Isle De Muerta is an island of untold riches, mostly untold 'cause I've kept it a secret. After seven years o' plunderin' wiv' the Black Pearl I 'ave chosen to return 'ere an' take whot I desire." I snorted; this was too much – the island was obviously some abandoned strip of land, not one speck of green grew on its' surface.
"And what riches, pray tell, do you hope to find on a desolate rock in the middle of the ocean?" Now he turned, and gave me a gold-flecked grin.
"Scullery, are ye familiar wiv' the term 'buried treasure'?"
The boat knocked against a spit of rock, jutting out into the sea, Jack rowed carefully, sometimes hauling us along by pulling on the rocks. He was muttering to himself and seemed to be looking for something, though I could not fathom what. Just as I fearfully began to wonder if the heat hadn't turned him mad we turned a corner and there was a yawning, shallow cave in the black, barren rock.
Despite spending over three months with these pirates, I was not as brave (or as foolhardy) as them and I hung back in the rear of the boat.
"We are to go in there?" I asked, fearfully.
But Jack had chosen to ignore me and he edged the boat into the dark hole. For a while all was blackness, I could see nothing and hear nothing save the gentle splash of water against the boat and the occasional drip from somewhere far above. I had a feeling of space around me and I wondered how such a small opening could conceal something so large. Presently, Jack lit a lamp and hung it in the prow of the boat, giving us a little light. I could see we were in a large cavern, the rocks formed into strange shapes from years of water dripping down and running off its surface. We were only a tiny pool of light in the vast darkness, but ahead I thought I could make out a darker patch of blackness.
As we got closer, it became clearer – the dark patch was a tunnel, wide at the mouth, but quickly narrowing down so only one man could pass it at a time. We left the boat and Jack began to lead me down the tunnel, but again I hung back. "What about the lantern?" I asked, making to remove it from the boat.
"Never mind about that now." Jack pulled on my hand like some impatient child. I followed him down the tunnel, determined not to show my fear. The walls were dank and the sand beneath my feet was damp and stuck between my toes. It was dark, but I managed to see my way by keeping my eyes focused on Jack's red bandanna, which showed up a little in the gloom. After what felt like an age the tunnel began to widen and the air felt fresher. I stepped round a corner and was blinded by a dazzling light.
I stood at the edge of cave and stared, mouth open, not believing what I could see. I had heard of buried treasure – but the idea of a musty chest under three feet of sand did not compare to this. The caves of the Isle De Muerta was an image firmly fixed in my mind after this brief visit, and even today I cannot find the words to describe the place. It is beyond description. Gold, in the form of coins, jewellery and ornaments, covers every available surface. The place sparkles like the inside of a diamond. I was no stranger to wealth, but these caves overwhelmed me.
I stared, open-mouthed at Jack, who was stepping through the endless gold, here and there touching pieces as if they were old friends. Once again I took in his shabby clothes, unkempt hair, rough hands and scarred face, I wondered what he was doing living the life he did; here was enough treasure to live in luxury for the rest of his days!
The crew began to arrive, each seemed as awe-struck as me, inexperienced and fanciful as they were none could have imagined such opulent expanses of wealth. I believe I heard more heathen curses and oaths in that ten minutes than in my whole time with the Black Pearl. Jack, still wandering as if in a trance finally noticed them and began to speak.
"Right, you thievin' devils, take only whot we need. Enough fer a year o easy livin' an' that's all! If I catch any of yer wiv' so much as one gold piece in yer pocket – yer'll walk the plank, so 'elp me God."
The crew began to march purposefully through the endless sea of riches, picking up only the occasional item, though many more were longingly fondled. Having nothing to do, I wandered aimlessly, star-struck as the rest of the crew. On a jagged rock stood a stone chest, it looked ancient and ordinary against it's sparkling companions, though a single ray of light fell ominously onto it. I daintily stepped up to it and reached out to lift the lid, but before my hand got close it was snatched away.
"You don't wanna be doing that missy." It was Gibbs.
"And why not Mr. Gibbs?" I enquired, there was something about that chest – I longed to see what it contained.
"That chest be cursed, missy." He spoke in a low voice, yet many of the others stopped and began listening. "Long ago that chest of Aztec gold was paid as blood money Cortez himself, to stem the violence against their people. But the tale goes the Aztec gods cursed the..."
"Gibbs," Jack staggered through the group that had surrounded us, he had a crown on his head and bracelets all up his arms, I thought him ridiculous. "Don't frighten the girl wiv' stories, she's only a simple lass."
He wandered off, and I was left fuming as the crew dispersed and headed back to the boats. Remembering the dark tunnel, I hurried quickly after them and only just managed to catch the last boat before they left.
****
"Oh Miss. Barbrook, can yer imagine?" Whispered Billy, a particularly eager youth whose boat in which I had the misfortune to be travelling back to the Pearl. "All that treasure! An' now we get to go to Tortuga and spend it! Imagine Miss, Tortuga!" I looked up sharply and smiled at the simple boy.
"But you are mistaken, Captain Sparrow will be making sail for Barbados and returning me home."
"Beggin' yer pardon Miss, but that ain't whot 'e told us."
"Oh." I replied tersely.
'The nerve of that man! When I think of the things I had felt for him – that I had done to him! I fumed silently as we approached the black Pearl.
****
It was midday, about a week since we had set off from Hispaniola, we must have been nearing the centre of the Caribbean sea, though what Jack hoped to find there I did not know. Merchant ships did not often cross the here alone because of the danger of pirates and we had no raids for two days. The crew became restless and full summer bore down upon us.
I was sheltering from the heat of the cloudless day in the galley. On deck the heat was unbearable and sweat streamed from the half-naked bodies of the crew. It the coolness of the galley I eyed the bacon hanging from the ceiling warily and planned the evening meal in my mind. The pirates were not fond of the high-class fayre I had been taught to cook at home, but this was fortunate as I was none to good at producing it. It seemed enough to brew up vats of porridge for breakfast and hearty stews with for dinner.
I hummed idly to myself and let my mind wander, drumming my fingers on the table. They seemed leaner and browner than when I had set out, the nails were stumpy and split in places and on the wrists were a couple of while scars from where I had clumsily burned myself while cooking in the great cauldron over the stove. I had not looked at my reflection for months, I wondering if the rest of me was much changed. My thoughts were interrupted by the door swinging open, letting in a gust of warm air. I was barely surprised to see Jack, since the hot weather had hit he would often visit me in my shady cavern.
"Afternoon darlin'." He bowed expansively and managed to retain his composure, though sweat was dripping off your nose. "I wonder if this 'umble pirate might beg a draught of cool water from this jewel of a scullery maid?"
"Scullery maid, my eye!" I retorted haughtily "Besides," I added, wrinkling my nose. "I will only grant you water if you are to bathe some of the filthy smell off with it." For the heat of the overhead sun had wrought its damage on Jack's armpits.
"Ah," Jack raised his eyebrows, a look of mock apology apon his face "I see my good scullery maid refers to my natural masculine aroma. But as the ladies wishes. Come;" He gestured to the pewter tub that hung on the door of the galley "Pour me a bath then, fair scullery wench and yer cap'n will soon smell sweet as roses."
"As my fair Captain wishes." I drew a jug of water from the barrel and poured it carefully into the tub, it barely covered the bottom. "There is a bath fit for a king."
"Thank ye' kindly, scullery." Jack began to shrug off his jacket, smirking "Though a true king would 'ave some help with 'is royal garments."
"Ahh, then my goodly king I must leave you - for I am only a mere scullery and could not hope to touch the king's robes." I retorted, laughing as his coat snagged on his scabbard and hung there. "I don't believe this king would refuse my help, however." I unhooked his jacket and handed it back to him giving an involuntary shiver as his hand brushed against mine.
"Scullery," He began, but something in my look stopped him. I had grown suddenly tired of this jest. King and scullery maid we were not, and it seemed I would never discovered what we were to each other.
"Jack, I..."
"Cathy." Jack spoke slowly and evenly, his hand brushing my tangled curls from my forehead. I felt faint and dizzy, my lips tingled and I itched to close the space between his face and mine. Jack's hands did not roam as they did when he was drunk, but clasped mine firmly. Our eyes were locked together and his face seemed to swim slightly in the stifled heat of the galley. Just as I made to lean forward there was a load, clear shout from the crew's nest:
"Land ahoy!"
The whole crew was on deck, watching as the dismal grey island rolled into view. I had never seem a place so desolate in my life, Tortuga was a paradise in comparison, was this what we were searching for? Surely not.
"The Isle De Muerta, lads." Jack spoke standing on the rail – hanging onto the rigging for support with one hand while he gestured expansively towards the island with the other "Right yer scurvy sea dogs, jump to it; Gibbs, Ana – run out the boats, and follow my course. You, you and you – up to the nest, keep a sharp look out." I stood still, in the middle of a hive of activity, then, as each left to carry out his own task I was alone, Jack looking out of his telescope, his back to me. I curled my toes against the dusty hot surface of the deck.
"And me?" Jack turned slightly and shot me a piercing look. At least I imagine it would have been piercing he wasn't still holding the telescope to his face.
"Yes?" He stepped forward, stopped, corrected the obvious mistake and carried on. "Yes?" "What shall a simple scullery maid do?" I smiled at him, trying to recapture the feeling between us a moment earlier.
"Yer'll come wiv' me I s'pose." He turned away as he spoke, his voice vague – he seemed drawn to that dingy island, though for the life of me I could not fathom why. Rather hurt at this sudden rebuke I quickly clambering into the boat after Jack.
So we set off, aiming for a cleft between two of the island's many black rocky splits of land. Jack rowing in silence, his back turned to me, stubbornly facing the island. I felt abandoned and ignored. While much had changed about me in the past months, I cannot deny I still resorted to sulks when slighted. The sun was unbearable, I felt jealous of the crew – able to strip down to their waists while I was bound with ribbons, lace and whalebone. Sweat beaded on my forehead and I wriggled impatiently on the boats rough seat.
"What so important about this Isle De Mwer-ta anyway?" I asked in my most cutting voice. Jack answered without even turning around.
"The Isle De Muerta is an island of untold riches, mostly untold 'cause I've kept it a secret. After seven years o' plunderin' wiv' the Black Pearl I 'ave chosen to return 'ere an' take whot I desire." I snorted; this was too much – the island was obviously some abandoned strip of land, not one speck of green grew on its' surface.
"And what riches, pray tell, do you hope to find on a desolate rock in the middle of the ocean?" Now he turned, and gave me a gold-flecked grin.
"Scullery, are ye familiar wiv' the term 'buried treasure'?"
The boat knocked against a spit of rock, jutting out into the sea, Jack rowed carefully, sometimes hauling us along by pulling on the rocks. He was muttering to himself and seemed to be looking for something, though I could not fathom what. Just as I fearfully began to wonder if the heat hadn't turned him mad we turned a corner and there was a yawning, shallow cave in the black, barren rock.
Despite spending over three months with these pirates, I was not as brave (or as foolhardy) as them and I hung back in the rear of the boat.
"We are to go in there?" I asked, fearfully.
But Jack had chosen to ignore me and he edged the boat into the dark hole. For a while all was blackness, I could see nothing and hear nothing save the gentle splash of water against the boat and the occasional drip from somewhere far above. I had a feeling of space around me and I wondered how such a small opening could conceal something so large. Presently, Jack lit a lamp and hung it in the prow of the boat, giving us a little light. I could see we were in a large cavern, the rocks formed into strange shapes from years of water dripping down and running off its surface. We were only a tiny pool of light in the vast darkness, but ahead I thought I could make out a darker patch of blackness.
As we got closer, it became clearer – the dark patch was a tunnel, wide at the mouth, but quickly narrowing down so only one man could pass it at a time. We left the boat and Jack began to lead me down the tunnel, but again I hung back. "What about the lantern?" I asked, making to remove it from the boat.
"Never mind about that now." Jack pulled on my hand like some impatient child. I followed him down the tunnel, determined not to show my fear. The walls were dank and the sand beneath my feet was damp and stuck between my toes. It was dark, but I managed to see my way by keeping my eyes focused on Jack's red bandanna, which showed up a little in the gloom. After what felt like an age the tunnel began to widen and the air felt fresher. I stepped round a corner and was blinded by a dazzling light.
I stood at the edge of cave and stared, mouth open, not believing what I could see. I had heard of buried treasure – but the idea of a musty chest under three feet of sand did not compare to this. The caves of the Isle De Muerta was an image firmly fixed in my mind after this brief visit, and even today I cannot find the words to describe the place. It is beyond description. Gold, in the form of coins, jewellery and ornaments, covers every available surface. The place sparkles like the inside of a diamond. I was no stranger to wealth, but these caves overwhelmed me.
I stared, open-mouthed at Jack, who was stepping through the endless gold, here and there touching pieces as if they were old friends. Once again I took in his shabby clothes, unkempt hair, rough hands and scarred face, I wondered what he was doing living the life he did; here was enough treasure to live in luxury for the rest of his days!
The crew began to arrive, each seemed as awe-struck as me, inexperienced and fanciful as they were none could have imagined such opulent expanses of wealth. I believe I heard more heathen curses and oaths in that ten minutes than in my whole time with the Black Pearl. Jack, still wandering as if in a trance finally noticed them and began to speak.
"Right, you thievin' devils, take only whot we need. Enough fer a year o easy livin' an' that's all! If I catch any of yer wiv' so much as one gold piece in yer pocket – yer'll walk the plank, so 'elp me God."
The crew began to march purposefully through the endless sea of riches, picking up only the occasional item, though many more were longingly fondled. Having nothing to do, I wandered aimlessly, star-struck as the rest of the crew. On a jagged rock stood a stone chest, it looked ancient and ordinary against it's sparkling companions, though a single ray of light fell ominously onto it. I daintily stepped up to it and reached out to lift the lid, but before my hand got close it was snatched away.
"You don't wanna be doing that missy." It was Gibbs.
"And why not Mr. Gibbs?" I enquired, there was something about that chest – I longed to see what it contained.
"That chest be cursed, missy." He spoke in a low voice, yet many of the others stopped and began listening. "Long ago that chest of Aztec gold was paid as blood money Cortez himself, to stem the violence against their people. But the tale goes the Aztec gods cursed the..."
"Gibbs," Jack staggered through the group that had surrounded us, he had a crown on his head and bracelets all up his arms, I thought him ridiculous. "Don't frighten the girl wiv' stories, she's only a simple lass."
He wandered off, and I was left fuming as the crew dispersed and headed back to the boats. Remembering the dark tunnel, I hurried quickly after them and only just managed to catch the last boat before they left.
****
"Oh Miss. Barbrook, can yer imagine?" Whispered Billy, a particularly eager youth whose boat in which I had the misfortune to be travelling back to the Pearl. "All that treasure! An' now we get to go to Tortuga and spend it! Imagine Miss, Tortuga!" I looked up sharply and smiled at the simple boy.
"But you are mistaken, Captain Sparrow will be making sail for Barbados and returning me home."
"Beggin' yer pardon Miss, but that ain't whot 'e told us."
"Oh." I replied tersely.
'The nerve of that man! When I think of the things I had felt for him – that I had done to him! I fumed silently as we approached the black Pearl.