Chapter 4 In The Absence of Thought
In the absence of thought, there is always the promise of rum. Jack, unable to come up with anything helpful to offer Will, decided rum was definitely the best course of action.
"What say you we go out and find ourselves a proper evening's entertainment, eh?"
Will looked up, confusion clear on his face. "What?"
"Entertainment." Jack repeated. "You know, that thing you do when there's nothing else to be done?"
"What are you suggesting?"
"Boy, you live in a town that was once known for its hospitality, before the Navy came and spoiled it that is. The back streets, not so far from here, contain any number of interesting past times. The perfect distraction for a situation like yours."
A rush of cold air swept through the room as the door opened and slammed shut. "What sort of situation would that be?" Anamaria asked. Elizabeth stood beside her.
"The situation of a lack of rum. We seem to have run out." He held out his cup for inspection, and indeed, it was dry.
Anamaria snatched the cup and frowned. "That's not your only situation Captain. I think its time we left the Turners some space to talk. Don't you?"
Jack rolled his eyes, but followed her out of the shop and back into the Turner's kitchen. Before he could sit down or even turn around, she whirled at him and brought her hand hard across his cheek.
He reeled back from the sudden sting of the blow. "Now I imagine you'll explain exactly why I deserved that."
"You know exactly what you said!"
With no defence, Jack picked up the empty rum bottle and did what he could to coax one more drop out of it and into his parched throat. "How was I to know the lad's even more dim than I thought possible? Even a blind man could see the girl is heavy with child."
"Is that so?"
Jack arched his eyebrows. "I'd notice if it were you."
Anamaria took a slow breath. "Would you?"
"Of course." Setting down the bottle, Jack advanced a step and wrapped her in his arms. "I know your body better than you do, luv. I know that when I do this…" He turned her head slightly and nuzzled behind her ear, making her back arch in response. "And when I do this…" He leaned against her just a bit closer and applied slight pressure where he needed to.
"I think they plan to be a while out in the shop. We could lock the door…have some privacy."
Ana pushed him off and just about slapped him again. "We can't lock 'em out o' their own house."
Jack shrugged. "You're loss."
Ana felt like screaming. "And you're so sure you know me that well, are ya?"
A gold toothed grin mocked her exasperation. "They've a guest room I imagine. Be an interesting change on a real mattress, don't you think?"
She did scream this time, and stomped out the door.
"So that's a no?" He called out after the door slammed shut after her. As expected, he got no response.
…
"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
The noise filled the kitchen, and his head, with a ringing unlike any Jack could imagine coming from animal or machine.
"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
The chair he fell asleep on lost balance under the sudden movement of his waking up, sending him plummeting backwards to the floor. Where he stayed.
"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
Until the sound yet again repeated and brought him back into something resembling reality. "Stop that blasted screaming already? Please?"
A woman stood by the door; her back pressed up against the wall as far as she could get away from him. Her eyes were ludicrously big for her face, and her mouth remained open in an O even after the sound ceased.
"Mr Turner!" She yelled out again, and the paralysis that had gripped her suddenly dissolved into a frantic dash towards the hall. Jack caught her wrist as she swept past him, making her swing around and thump ineloquently into his chest.
"I'd put a end to the hollerin' if I was you miss." He held the girl close, close enough that he could feel her heart pounding beneath her breast. "Yer not only fillin' the house with yer noise, but likely the street as well. An we don' want someone thinking a girl is bein' murdered, do we?"
"No sir." Her breath came in short little gasps and he worried she might pass out.
"An' what else might we not want people thinkin' is going on in here?" Jack asked. If he could talk her into getting scared enough to pass out, that would definitely solve the screaming problem.
Her cheeks blushed a bright red and her breathing quickened even further. Little droplets of tears welled up in her eyes as she considered his insinuation. "I think I know who you are."
"An who is that?"
"The pirate, Captain Sparrow. Everyone knows 'o you are, ever since you escaped the hanging." The tears ceased before they began as she calmed down considerably, but her breathing remained quick and shallow and her cheeks stayed pink. "Please sir, I'll do what ever you ask of me. I've 'eard tales." Her eyes darted downwards as she smiled shyly. "I'll not struggle. Unless that's what you want…"
In as interesting a development as this, Jack played with the thought of continuing the ruse just a little longer; and he considered just how much he could get this spit of a girl to agree to doing before giving up the game.
Nevertheless, as usual, interruptions got in the way of fun as Will Turner came down the stairs and regarded them both suspiciously. "What are you doing with my maid?"
Two hasty steps in retreat, and Jack smiled briefly. "Jus sayin' 'ello."
Will turned to the maid. "Sally, you're okay?"
She looked down at her shoes, then up at the pirate, then back down at her shoes with only the slightest hint of grin. "Mr Sparrow was offerin' t' show me how to… he offered to show me how to raise his sails." Her lashes fluttered as she looked back up at Jack.
A frown creased Will's features, but he didn't press for any further explanations. "Where's Anamaria?"
Jack cleared his throat. "Not sure exactly. But, I suspect she'd be back at the rooms we've rented back at the Docks. Which is where I should be off to momentarily." He turned back to Sally the maid and offered an apologetic smile. "Sorry luv, maybe some other time for the lesson, eh?"
She blushed prettily as she nodded.
"And Will. Remind 'Liz'beth 'bout what we talked about last night. Set up the meeting tonight perhaps?"
"I will."
And with that, Jack backed out of the kitchen. Not a bad start to the morning. Not bad at all.
Not until he walked strait into…
Ah damn…
Commodore Norrington.
There was a moment of shock in which neither man reacted, and then the ruckus started. Jack ducked, Norrington drew his sword, and Jack scurried back into the Turner's kitchen to hide behind the maid.
The maid started anew with her screaming. "EEEEEEEEEE!"
"Mr. Turner, I presume there is an explanation for this."
"Uh."
Elizabeth entered the room; cool as can be, despite the chaos taking place around her. "Commodore Norrington, it's a pleasure to see you this morning."
"Elizabeth. I received your message. I must admit this is not what I expected." He nodded towards her in greeting, but kept his blade pointed at the maid, or rather the pirate behind the maid. "Nonetheless, you're faithfulness to duty is appreciated in the apprehension of this pirate."
She walked up and situated herself in front of her maid and -thus too Jack still hiding behind the girl-, and Norrington lowered his weapon. "Jack is our guest, and I did not call you in order to have him arrested. Jack was the one to request the meeting."
"Yes." Jack stepped out from behind the women, but kept a close eye on Norrington's sword as he did so. "Information I don't yet have in fact." He amended, and cast a nasty look Elizabeth's way.
"I have no interest in games, Mr Sparrow. Any business conducted by you and I will best be done at the gallows." He raised his sword once more. "Elizabeth, move out of the way."
"No." Will stood beside her, his hand now resting on the hilt of his own sword.
"I do have some information, however." Jack added quickly. The situation was quickly getting out of hand and the last thing he wanted was a brawl started in the Turner kitchen.
"Such as?"
"Have you noticed an alarming rate of bodies going missing? Perhaps an increase in grave robbery?" He stepped around Will and Elizabeth, and closer towards the Commodore.
"No."
So much for that. "Oh. Well then. Good day to you, and--." The sword came up to his chest once again, the point pressing uncomfortably into the exposed flesh.
"James, please just listen to what he has to say." Elizabeth pleaded.
The Commodore considered, then nodded at the table. "Sit down."
Jack nodded agreeably and sat.
The Commodore remained standing. "Where is your ship?"
"The Pearl is in the bay. The pirates belonging to the Pearl are roaming about your fair port, not so safe. So, I'd really like to be concluding our business here as soon as possible and getting back to m' ship, if you don't mind." Jack regarded the sword still pointed at his chest and offered a hopeful grin before continuing.
"I've met a fine gent selling dead bodies recently, and I've reason to believe the bodies might not be so dead when he finds 'em to put on the market."
"And who are these bodies being sold to?"
"That, I don't know, yet." Again, he regarded the sword nervously. "But I'll find out, just as I was intending to do. I've no intention to interfere with you're fine port, Commodore. And I'm sure whoever's purchasing these goods will be dealt with in a swift and efficient manner."
"And what do you have to gain from this?"
"It's a personal matter." Again with the sword nudging. Jack began to feel tired of being poked. "A friend, acquaintance really, recently fell foul of the trade. So you see, it's really none of my business and I'll be setting sail as soon as we're finished here."
"No so fast Mr Sparrow."
"Captain." Jack corrected.
"Exactly when do you intend to procure this information you are hinting at?"
"Soon. Today." The pirate promised.
Norrington lowered the blade. "You will bring me this man's name by sunset, or yours will be the next neck to be stretched in our gallows. Understood."
"Indisputably."
…
As usual, the dock bustled with activity and the tavern even more so. Jack spotted Gibbs sitting out on the step with a flask in hand. "Remember the code." Jack ordered, and Gibbs nodded back his understanding gravely.
As soon as Jack stepped into the tavern, the day deteriorated from bad to worse. He sat down in a booth, happily starting on a fresh bottle of rum, when suddenly a dagger snaked over the back of the booth with a hand attached to it. More importantly, the blade pressed sharply up into his neck. One wrong move sideways and Jack would be learning how to breathe through his throat.
"Sloan." Jack greeted his new friend as amicably as possible in view of the circumstances.
"Thinkin' t' set me up are ye?" He growled into Jack's ear.
"Considering yer plannin' on killin' me, don't see that as too fair an accusation."
"Didn't consider killin' ya til I learnt you considered turnin' me over to the Navy." Frank pressed the knife even harder into Jack's skin. "No matter, I got me a nice bonus of it in any case. The reward for expectant women 's five times that o' a reg'lar one."
"What?" Jack knew it couldn't be Elizabeth because he just saw her this morning. But who would Sloan be referring to then?
"Yer girl, mate. Thought I'd share with ye, b'fore killin' ye an' all. That's assuming it's yours o' course."
Jack's blood ran cold. Could Frank be referring to Anamaria? "Y' got the wrong girl. Mine's not pregnant."
Sloan laughed. "Guess it ain't yer's then if she ain't seen' fit t' share wit' ye. Heard her admit it herself. Or maybe she ain't admitted it t' ye cause she ain't plannin' on keepin' it. No matter now, 'f course, what with her bein' dead n' all."
"Where is she?"
"On a table bein' die-sected for all's I know."
That was it. Jack had been willing to play along with the threats so far, but with Anamaria potentially… being cut to pieces… wasting time was not an option.
However, the means of escape were presently limited.
The hilt of the weapon was what he aimed to catch and so Jack swung his hand back and then forwards meaning to push the blade away from his person, but Sloan jerked to the side at the last second. Though he avoided being sliced from ear to ear, Jack only did so by having his hand wedged between where the blade and his neck would be. The right hand. His sword hand.
Having his palm slit was of course better than the alternative. Slightly. A sharp burning fire ran up his arm all the way to the shoulder and across his back as a thick stream of blood seeped from the wound in quick bursts.
Left handed now, Jack jerked around and caught Frank Sloan by the hair. For a big man with an even bigger reputation, he went down easy. It only took Jack to reach out with the bloody hand to find a better hold to have the bastard retching on his knees.
"You better pray she ain't dead, mate." Jack said carefully. The scene was starting to attract attention, and Jack hoped there'd be no well-meaning mob on the verge of chipping in some help on either side.
Of course, his luck never held out for long. A sword appeared at his side, pointy end held against the man on the ground, the other end belonging to the Commodore his self.
"I trust you did not think I believed you." Those words were aimed towards Jack before Norrington turned to Frank Sloan and demanded icily. "Who do you supply the bodies to?"
Jack watched Sloan squirm under the pressure of being questioned by the Commodore. Blood ran down Jack's hand where he still gripped the criminal, rapidly forming a large stain down the front of his shirt.
"Don't have a name, 'e pays in cash. Over at that new school ey's got up on the hill, the doctor school." Frank's eyes rolled at the sight of the continuing stream of blood seeping onto his person. "Yer girl was alive when I delivered 'er this morning. Might still be fer alls I know. Ey's wantin' 'em fresh fer show, 'an so ey's the ones doin' the killin."
Jack released him, and stepped backwards as two of the Commodore's men took over and bound Sloan's wrists in irons. He hardly took notice as two others came and grabbed hold of his own arms as well.
The Doctor school… it made sense that they'd want fresh cadaver's to work on. If they found a man scrupulous enough to supply those bodies, how far might they be willing to reach outside the limits of ethics in the name of advancing science?
Anamaria was in danger, possibly dead. Anamaria was pregnant. No. Not possible. She told him her self, she wouldn't get pregnant, and what kind of coincidence was it to have both Elizabeth and Anamaria pregnant at the same time? Not probably, but maybe possible.
This was what Gibbs always meant about women and bad luck. A man gets his head all tied into knots in a sticky situation, and it's likely he's never going to come out of it again. All the same, he couldn't keep his thoughts steady.
And if Anamaria were pregnant, why wouldn't she tell him about it? Could that be what all that talk last night was about? He boasted about knowing her body so well, was it possible he chose not to see what was directly in front of his eyes?
And why didn't she tell him?
Distantly, Jack felt himself being pulled forwards, the soldiers griping his arms guiding him out of the tavern. A cold numbness spread through his fingers even as his hand continued to bleed.
The sun seemed too bright, and the air too cold. Jack knew Gibbs would be out there somewhere, and hoped the man would follow orders and keep out of it. He felt the small procession stop, but somehow missed what was happening around him as thoughts of Anamaria, and possible plans on how to rescue Anamaria, buzzed around inside his head. That is, he was unaware until pressure against his hand and the unexpected shock of contact sent waves of sensation racing up his nerves.
The world around him careened back into glaring focus, and Jack became alert to the very real threat of Commodore Norrington standing directly in front of him. Oddly, however, the Commodore was wrapping the wound and holding his wrist up to slow the stem of blood.
"I will handle Captain Sparrow." Norrington barked at his men. "Get that man to the brig."
"Captain Jack Sparrow." Jack echoed. Did the Commodore just refer to him as Captain? No, couldn't have. The grips on Jack's arms vanished, and he found him self off balance without them, but Norrington quickly took up the slack and grabbed hold of an arm to keep the pirate upright.
"Do not make me regret this." Norrington warned and started guiding the way across the street. They entered a small building and Jack found himself pushed back into a chair. It was just as well to be sitting. Things were feeling colder by the second, and fuzzier, and still he could feel slippery wetness soaking through the makeshift bandage and snaking down to his elbow.
Anamaria remained the focal point in his thoughts. With Norrington standing by his side with a secure hand on his shoulder, Jack expected the next stop to be the gallows. As soon as an opportunity to escape presented its self, Jack would be gone.
An old man, about as thick as he was tall waddled up to where Jack sat and regarded his new patient thoughtfully. "Can 'e pay?"
"Yes." Norrington answered.
Jack flinched as the old man roughly took hold of his right hand. "Make a fist." He ordered. Jack did what he could through the numb creeping along his arm.
"'E won't die if that's what e's here for." The old man grunted. "Yer wantin' t' save t' fingers?"
Jack blinked. Wanting to save? As in not wanting to lose?
Norrington answered for him. "That would be best."
"Bloody right it would be best." Jack agreed, but if it came to losing a few fingers or losing Anamaria, he'd gladly lose the fingers. "Just stitch it up and be done with it. I don't have time for this."
The fat old man laughed. "Stich it up 'e says. I c'n stitch it alright, if'n you don't want use of 'at hand again. Stitch it up, sure thing. But if'n it's all the same t' you, t' would be better not t' 'ave ye strugglin' as I do it."
Norrington's hand pressed down even harder on Jack's shoulder as the Doctor brought an old grey cloth up to Jack's face. "NO!" They intended to drug him while the Doctor did his work. He'd seen it before, or at least heard of it before, in enough detail to recognise it now. They couldn't drug him because he needed to find Anamaria. Even as the cloth came up to his nose and mouth Jack willed himself to remain conscious and alert.
Even as the darkness closed in around him, his last thoughts were on saving Anamaria.
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