My second night in the Three Turtles was spent with Anamaria. While Jack
and Gibbs were chasing up old acquaintances neither of us seemed to be able
to stomach a night of social intercourse. We sat at the same, secluded
fireside table we has spend the previous night. Neither of us spoke much at
first– Ana swallowed her drinks quickly, though without relish while I set
about mine with a kind of grim persistence. Grog, that is rum mixed with
beer, tasted much worse than rum alone but if it could numb the pain that
hadn't left me since that moment on the beach when Jack walked away then I
cared not if it tasted of hell itself.
"Bloody men!" Ana put froth after a particularly long swig "Bloody pirates!" I replied, raising my tankard.
"I'll drink to that." She took another long draft. "Ye know, I reckon it's over fer me – piracy I mean." She waved her hands about in a manner not unlike Jack. "Nuffin' left fer the likes o' me. Don't reckon I'll be leavin' this rock any time soon." She leaning back in her chair and half closed her eyes.
"But what about the Pearl? And the crew, what'll they do without you? And Mr. Gibbs and, and Jack?" Ana leaned forward and shot me a sharp look.
"Jack can go hang." She asserted with a slam of her tankard on the table.
"Oh, right." I replied, absently watching the grog she had spilt spreading over the grimy table.
We were silent for a while longer, a barmaid, spilling indecorously out of her bodice, placed two more tankards at our table without being asked.
"He's a bastard." Ana spoke abruptly, as if there had been no gap in the conversation. "A pansy bastard whot' 'as never cared fer a lady whot 'asn't got a prow an' a mizzenmast. A limey, scurvy bastard." Anamaria's lilting Caribbean tone curled like a kicked dog round the harsh, low words.
"Oh." I repeated, unable to think of a suitable reply.
"I know yer think yer love 'im."
"Oh?" I sipped my grog and felt a fool.
"'E probably thinks 'e loves you, like as not." She lifted her feet onto the table, which shook slightly. "But 'e's wrong an' so are you. I know 'im better than 'e does 'imself an' that bastard can't think straight 'bout anyfing 'cept ships an' treasure." Ana's face was turned to the ceiling and she didn't seem to be addressing me any longer. I ran my finger round the edge of my tankard – at a loss for what to say.
"So what will you do in Tortuga?" I asked miserably. Ana met my gaze, a wry smile on her face.
"The oldest profession in the world, darlin'."
"But you can't, you wouldn't!" Ana snorted and drunk heavily from her now almost empty tankard, I glanced quickly at her "You haven't, have you?"
"Darlin', when I came to Tortuga there were only three things a pirate wanted from a woman – food, rum or a screw. Well I can't stomach the idea of runnin' a place like this," She looked around distastefully. "An' I can't cook fer buggery so that were it." She shrugged. "It's warmer than sailin', anyway."
I swallowed half my grog without even tasting it, imagine! Doing, doing that for a living. I had never even suspected. All my life I'd been told that women who did that were, well, that they were barely human. Certainly not in the eyes of God and all decent society.
"Oh, don't look at me like that." Ana reached for the next tankard as soon as the barmaid set it down. "I'm sure you ain't ever been lyin' in a freezin' bed, wonderin' if yer gonna be lyin' in the streets the next night. I'm sure you ain't never 'ad two farthin's to rub togetha or bin a week with nuffin' but ships tack an' stale beer in yer belly."
"I'm, I'm sure in that situation I'd do what I had to." I replied graciously, not wanting to anger Ana further.
"Yeah, well, yer might 'ave to yet."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Yeah, I'm sure yer do. But the crew's gonna be 'ere fer a while yet an' a doubt Jack will even remember yer name after a spell in the bars. Yer ever seen that man down a bottle of good quality, dark navy rum in one go? I'm talkin' proper stuff here, not weak imported crap – well I've seen 'im do it an' I'm tellin' yer I'd be surprised if 'e could remember 'is own name in a few days time." I took another sip of my drink and glanced up at her.
"Bloody hell."
"Yeah, I'd say so."
****
So she convinced me. I don't know how – the night went on and the barmaid kept bringing over more grog. The room got very warm and a little misty round the edges and I began to feel anywhere with a lot of big, soft beds sounded perfectly fine to me. In that warm and fluffy room I began to see Ana for the fount of knowledge that she was – she would lead me to my fortune. I would charm salty, kind-hearted old seamen and me and Ana would save up and buy a plantation together; where I would sleep on silk sheets everyday and Ana would have twenty merchant sailors as slaves.
Around dawn, the grog finally ran out and we made our way across the rambling streets of Tortuga to the Red House.
"Bloody men!" Ana put froth after a particularly long swig "Bloody pirates!" I replied, raising my tankard.
"I'll drink to that." She took another long draft. "Ye know, I reckon it's over fer me – piracy I mean." She waved her hands about in a manner not unlike Jack. "Nuffin' left fer the likes o' me. Don't reckon I'll be leavin' this rock any time soon." She leaning back in her chair and half closed her eyes.
"But what about the Pearl? And the crew, what'll they do without you? And Mr. Gibbs and, and Jack?" Ana leaned forward and shot me a sharp look.
"Jack can go hang." She asserted with a slam of her tankard on the table.
"Oh, right." I replied, absently watching the grog she had spilt spreading over the grimy table.
We were silent for a while longer, a barmaid, spilling indecorously out of her bodice, placed two more tankards at our table without being asked.
"He's a bastard." Ana spoke abruptly, as if there had been no gap in the conversation. "A pansy bastard whot' 'as never cared fer a lady whot 'asn't got a prow an' a mizzenmast. A limey, scurvy bastard." Anamaria's lilting Caribbean tone curled like a kicked dog round the harsh, low words.
"Oh." I repeated, unable to think of a suitable reply.
"I know yer think yer love 'im."
"Oh?" I sipped my grog and felt a fool.
"'E probably thinks 'e loves you, like as not." She lifted her feet onto the table, which shook slightly. "But 'e's wrong an' so are you. I know 'im better than 'e does 'imself an' that bastard can't think straight 'bout anyfing 'cept ships an' treasure." Ana's face was turned to the ceiling and she didn't seem to be addressing me any longer. I ran my finger round the edge of my tankard – at a loss for what to say.
"So what will you do in Tortuga?" I asked miserably. Ana met my gaze, a wry smile on her face.
"The oldest profession in the world, darlin'."
"But you can't, you wouldn't!" Ana snorted and drunk heavily from her now almost empty tankard, I glanced quickly at her "You haven't, have you?"
"Darlin', when I came to Tortuga there were only three things a pirate wanted from a woman – food, rum or a screw. Well I can't stomach the idea of runnin' a place like this," She looked around distastefully. "An' I can't cook fer buggery so that were it." She shrugged. "It's warmer than sailin', anyway."
I swallowed half my grog without even tasting it, imagine! Doing, doing that for a living. I had never even suspected. All my life I'd been told that women who did that were, well, that they were barely human. Certainly not in the eyes of God and all decent society.
"Oh, don't look at me like that." Ana reached for the next tankard as soon as the barmaid set it down. "I'm sure you ain't ever been lyin' in a freezin' bed, wonderin' if yer gonna be lyin' in the streets the next night. I'm sure you ain't never 'ad two farthin's to rub togetha or bin a week with nuffin' but ships tack an' stale beer in yer belly."
"I'm, I'm sure in that situation I'd do what I had to." I replied graciously, not wanting to anger Ana further.
"Yeah, well, yer might 'ave to yet."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Yeah, I'm sure yer do. But the crew's gonna be 'ere fer a while yet an' a doubt Jack will even remember yer name after a spell in the bars. Yer ever seen that man down a bottle of good quality, dark navy rum in one go? I'm talkin' proper stuff here, not weak imported crap – well I've seen 'im do it an' I'm tellin' yer I'd be surprised if 'e could remember 'is own name in a few days time." I took another sip of my drink and glanced up at her.
"Bloody hell."
"Yeah, I'd say so."
****
So she convinced me. I don't know how – the night went on and the barmaid kept bringing over more grog. The room got very warm and a little misty round the edges and I began to feel anywhere with a lot of big, soft beds sounded perfectly fine to me. In that warm and fluffy room I began to see Ana for the fount of knowledge that she was – she would lead me to my fortune. I would charm salty, kind-hearted old seamen and me and Ana would save up and buy a plantation together; where I would sleep on silk sheets everyday and Ana would have twenty merchant sailors as slaves.
Around dawn, the grog finally ran out and we made our way across the rambling streets of Tortuga to the Red House.