CHAPTER ONE
As I sat in the corner of the small crowded tavern and took an occasional drink of rum I watched the things going on around me. I wondered when my life would ever get remotely interesting. I watched the drunken men chasing the whores around the tables. I pity whatever fool takes me for a whore or a silly little girl. I am not silly, or a girl. I am a woman, nineteen, in fact. While somewhat short and resembling a girl because of said height, I am nothing of the sort.
Just as I was thinking about this some stupid excuse for a man strode (more swaggered actually) toward my table. Before a word passed his nasty lips I knew his intentions. Anybody would know instantly from the gratuitous expression on his worn, drunken face. "'Ello, Poppet" he slurred, the evident smell of too much drink on his breath.
"No, thanks so much" I replied, making certain to keep my tone steady and dismissive.
"Maybe you don't know who I am." He said, somewhat annoyed and probably more anxious than before. "My name is Captain Farling. Now I ask again: Care for a drink, poppet?"
Maybe you don't know who I am." I responded, not even attempting to hide the defiant tone that was building in my voice as I got calmly up from the table (his nasty arm still around my back) and pointed my pistol between his eyes. "My name is Rose Sparrow. Still fancy a drink, poppet?"
"No, no... miss Sparrow. Sorry to have bothered you." He stammered as he hurriedly got up and took his arm from around me, anxious to get out of my shooting range, pushing through other drunkards to the tavern's exit.
"Thanks very much" I said quietly, more to myself than him, as I picked up the ratty old bag he had left. It was of no special material. But that was of little concern to me. Its contents were my concern. "Ahhh..." I said contently, as I extracted twenty shillings from the little purse. "Wonder what he planned to buy." I said mockingly as I threw the now empty bag aside and placed the money into my own purse. Just then, I thought of what he could possibly have wanted for that much. It then occurred to me. He thought I was a whore. He had to pay for that mistake. Dearly. I utterly detested when men took me as a whore just because I wasn't ugly and I was in a tavern. I calmly got up from the table and moved toward the exit, having to push aside many approaching men before they could even say hello. I had something to do and wanted no distractions. Just as I was about to leave, the kindly old gentleman who ran the tavern man yelled over the crowd "Rose! You forgot to pay again!"
"Oh. Sorry, Mr. Bridge!" I yelled across the noisy bar and tossed him two shillings for the rum.
"Another one to chase?"
"Yes! See you tomorrow!" I yelled, knowing that unless by some miracle I found my father in the next 24 hours I would, in fact, be back here drinking as I watched everyone else live their life.
Outside the tavern the air was cold and moisture still hung heavily from the earlier storm. Black clouds still loomed overhead, but it was clearing up and the light was sufficient without a torch to find and probably hurt that brainless old dog. As I walked along the dirty side street rain left over from the storm spattered on the already wet road and my head, which, I must say, was quite refreshing, since I had not had a decent shower for at least three days.
When I finally got all the way to the docks and still saw no sign of the old man I decided to go home and sleep for the night. Just before I turned around to leave the beautiful sight of the ocean something caught my eye. A ship was coming in. An unusually dark ship, in fact, the ship was still about a hundred metres or so off, but from where I was standing it appeared to have black sails. I had heard something about a ship with black sails, as I recalled. It was called the Black Pearl. Yes, the black pearl, and its Captain had just recently died in a fight with what was rumored to be the greatest pirate ever to sail the seas. Perhaps I could become a pirate. I could, if I really wanted to. Truly. I had the language of a pirate, the drinking habits, the obsession with any kind of treasure, and I had heard from listening to a few bar conversations that my father had been a pirate. How composed or intelligent he was, I had no idea. But I suppose the greatest pirate ever to sail would have at least heard of my father at one time or another. Surely he must have. Suddenly my thoughts were interrupted by forthcoming footsteps from somewhere close behind me. Probably that old man coming back for more humiliation (well, he was not really a man, but more of a fish, or maybe he was a eunuch. I really didn't know or care). When I felt the footsteps ever so slightly vibrating the ground beneath my bare feet (I never wear shoes of any kind. They confine my feet. And if there's one thing I do not need it will be confinement. I need to be free.) I pulled out my pistol (With no shots left, but only I knew that.) and aimed straight at the head of this nameless shadow.
CHAPTER TWO
"Stop walking or I'll shoot you," I said forebodingly.
"Rose, shut up with that shoot you nonsense. I know you have no shots in that pistol." It was my friend and longtime housemate Annaclara.
"Annaclara, is that you? Well what do you mean by coming up behind me like that? I could've shot you." I called to her.
"Except your gun has no bullets," she called sardonically. She had a point. When she ran closer I stood waiting to greet her but when she ran past me I stood there, still facing the other direction, until I contemplated that she was no longer in front of me. Then I spun around and called to her.
"Annaclara..." no answer, she was still running toward the water, "Annaclara, what the bloody hell are you doing?" I called, still a bit confused.
"I'm meeting my sister!" She finally called back. I hadn't ever heard of a sister. I ran to catch up. When she finally stopped she was about half a meter from the end of the dock. I finally caught up to her and stopped just before falling into the water.
"You have... a sister?" I asked, still trying to catch my breath.
"Yes, Annamaria. She is to stop here tonight. LOOK! There's her ship now!"
"HER ship?"
"No, she's part of the crew. It's the fastest ship in the Spanish main."
"And the name of the ship is what?"
"The Black Pearl."
"The... the Black... Reeeeally?" I had heard about a black pearl. It was indeed the fastest ship in the Caribbean. It was said to be captained by the best pirate in the Caribbean. He was said to have vanished from under the eyes of seven agents of the East India Company and sacked Nassau port without firing a single shot. I didn't know his name, but I would soon. The massive ship was coming closer. I could see it now. Its sails were black as the night. There was a woman hanging off the front of the ship waving madly. Since all I could see was her silhouette, I assumed she was the now infamous Annamaria.
"Annie!" Annaclara called from her perch on the dock.
When the ship tied up Annamaria was the first to come off, followed by the motliest crew I had ever seen, followed by two men that didn't look so dilapidated: one I recognized as a man named Gibbs, and a second, well, I didn't know his name, but he seemed oddly familiar, almost as if I had seen him somewhere, somewhere distant.
"Annaclara" I said, still a bit distracted, "do you know who that is?
"Oh, no, let me ask Annie. ANNIE!" Annaclara called, bearing a strange vocal resemblance to her sister.
"What do ye want?" 'Annie' said hastily, "I have te help unload."
"That man, the tall one walking swaggeredly. Who is he?"
"Him?" Oh, that's the captain.
"Oh. So... the captain is a... drunk?"
"Yes, now, if you two will excuse me, I have to go unload while you stand there looking at a real crew."
"Oh, she's a bitter one!" Annaclara said teasingly to Annamaria. When Annamaria walked away Annaclara and I stood there for a second looking at the captain. I wondered who he was. I certainly recognized him, yet I could not place the face. Oh, well, time to go to bed. Best worry about it in the morning, I thought.
"Let's follow 'em!" Said Annaclara enthusiastically. I was not so inclined. What if there were nasty old men like the one from the bar in that crew? Oh well, I had incredible swordsman skills, and Annie was already about fifteen metres ahead of me by then, so I decided it would be in my best interest to follow, so I did.
CHAPTER THREE
Once I caught up with Annaclara, her sister, Mr. Gibbs, and the Captain, we were already in the bar I had been in previously. We sat down at a table with Annamaria and the two other men. He sat directly across from me, with Gibbs at his right and Annamaria at his left. Annaclara sat at my right.
"What'll it be for ye?" the waitress said more to the captain than to any of us, which I could understand, since he was quite fit. But I, for some reason, didn't feel that same connection. My connection felt somehow different.
"I'll have rum, the most you can supply, Gibbs will have the same, Annamaria will probably have rum, and these fine young ladies will have..." he said, gesturing toward us.
"Rum." We said in unison, this was our favorite bar. We were regulars here.
"Rum, eh?" Said the captain somewhat flirtatiously, which, for some odd reason unbeknownst to me, mad me a bit uncomfortable, "I like a girl who can drink."
"So, captain," I said after our third round of drinks had arrived and the silence had finally gotten to me, "What is your name?"
"Jack." He said somewhat drunkenly. "Jack Sparrow."
"Jack Sparrow?" I asked, sure I had heard him wrong.
"Captain Jack Sparrow" he said, as if he had had to remind lots of people of his status.
"You?" I said, more to myself, but aloud nonetheless.
"Me, me?...me...me what, love?" He asked me in a somewhat anticipating tone.
"Captain," I said, preparing to introduce myself, since I could find no other way to tell this man that he was most likely my father, "allow me to introduce myself. My name is Rose Sparrow." I said calmly, near to fainting from the mixture of drink and emotion.
Jack spit choked on his rum. When he had recovered himself he said, "Excuse me," and abruptly got up from his seat and rushed out of the bar.
"Rose Sparrow?" Annamaria said quizzically, "Not another wife, I hope."
"No," I said, still shocked, "I... I think I may be his daughter."
The table fell silent. I decided the only thing to do would be to see if Sparrow was just a common name, though I doubted it. I pushed past people to the exit and went outside to find Jack Sparrow.
When I came upon him he was muttering to himself. All I could make out of it was "No..." and "Cant be true...Left ...So long ago..." I assumed it was about me.
"Captain?" I said finally, "Do you know something I don't?" He looked as though he didn't ex[pect me to be there. He turned to face me abruptly.
"No, why would you say that, love?" he said coolly.
"Because at the mention of my name you ran out of the bar." I looked him directly in his coal-lined eyes. "What do you know?" I begged.
"Well, love, you see, the thing is... oh, bugger it. See, you are my... I happen to be, erm..."
"Are you my father?!?" I asked enthusiastically, hoping that it might be true.
"Well, to be frank with ye, lass, yes, I am." He said, clearly not as happy as me. I really couldn't think of anything to say. After all, he had abandoned my mother and I when I was only a young child, or so mother said. Naturally, I said the first thing that popped into my head; unfortunately, it was not the brightest thing that I could've said.
"You look like you're about to throw up."
No reply. Wonderful. I had upset my father on our very first meeting, sure to be our last, but not if I could help it. I had to say something, but not what I was thinking.
"Are you angry?" Yes, quite right. Very neutral question. Can't go wrong with that type of question. Probably.
"I need more rum," he said, swaggering back toward the bar.
"No!" I shouted. He wheeled around, seemingly surprised that that amount of sound could come from such a small person.
"What do ye want, love?" He asked, suddenly looking more tired than he had at any other time that night. "Yes, I am yer father, all right? But that is all. I am nothing more than a stranger to ye. I am leaving tomorrow morning and it will be as if we had never laid eyes on each other."
"So that's it, then?" I asked, trying desperately to keep back the tears that were overflowing in the rims of my eyes, "that's the secret... grandeur that I conjured up to be my father. He runs from his daughter, only to remember her for the rest of his life even though he tries not to?!" I was shouting by now, my face and hair soaked with rain and tears, now within an inch of his face, "You... are my father! Whether you want to be aware of that or not is your choice, mate, not mine!" And with that, I slapped him hard across the face, putting all the years of hurt and wonder and pain into my strength as I did. After that I ran away, away from the noise of the tavern, away from the pain, away from the father I had wished for all of my life.
CHAPTER FOUR
As I sat on the beach, the water lapping around my bare toes, I thought of my life thus far. Born, abandoned at fourteen with no information other than my name, the fact that my father had abandoned us, and that she loved me, but she had to go. I could not think of her name, but I did not want to call her mother, for she was not. She was simply the other stranger. She was 'she'. There was no other way to express it.
What was this love word? According to some, it was the single greatest feeling one could ever experience. I had never loved, ever. Not platonically, nor any other way. I had thought in my younger, more naïve years that I would surely love my father when I met him. How we would sail the high seas together. True, my actual father was a captain, rumored to be the best, but he seemingly had no time for me and I wanted so desperately to know what love for a parent felt like. I had felt some semblance of sisterly love, I suppose, but Annaclara was not even my blood sister, so I supposed that that kind of love did not account for much.
Whilst thinking of all this, my mind drifted to somewhere far away. Somewhere where I could clearly not hear any sounds from where my body sat. Otherwise, I would have heard the approaching footsteps behind me. When I finally came back to reality and heard them, they were no more than a few meters off, giving me just enough time to reach for my pistol.
"Who's there?" I called toward the slowly approaching shadow, which, coming into the moonlight, looked too tall for me to take on alone, so I slowly took out my pistol (with no shots), braced myself, and hoped whoever this was was afraid of pistols. Even though it had no shots. Oh, well, at least I had met my father. "What do you want?" I called toward the ever faster forthcoming shadow, "ANSWER ME, GODDAMNIT!" I screamed, a little louder than I had intended.
"Easy, love," called a familiar voice, "No one is here to trouble you, so you can put that pistol away." It was Him again. My heart was glad that he cared enough to come find me, but I dare not show him this.
"What do you want?" I said sarcastically when he sat down next to me, "I thought you wanted nothing to do with me." In reality, I wanted to sit with my father on that beach forever. But pride is a nasty thing that is quite difficult to get rid of. However, I tried and it nearly worked. "But... if you want to stay... you can."
"Well, that's very generous of you, love." He said with a hint of sarcasm in his voice, "I think I will, then."
We sat there on that beach for little more than an hour talking about everything. The conversation began as one about why he abandoned she and I, and it ended with his ship and how he acquired it. Then suddenly I was struck with an idea.
"Father?" I said, savoring the word, it felt so good to finally use that name, "If you're the captain of your ship, and I'm your daughter, well, could I, that is," I hesitated, not knowing how to phrase the question.
"You were wondering if you could come along and live aboard with me and me' crew," he said, as if he could read my mind.
"Yes!" I cried, "Oh, would you? I can be a pirate I know I can! Please, oh, please let me go with you!"
"The thing is, love," he said carefully, "you might not be able to handle the life of a pirate.
"Sure I could," I protested, "You exhort, you pilfer, you filch and sack, maraud, embezzle, you kidnap and ravage, don't give a hoot, and really bad eggs, and all of that sort, yo ho, I could do any of that as easily as any of your motley crew!" I cried, hoping that might sway his answer.
"I'm sorry, love," he said, "but I just can't take you." He stood up again and began to walk away.
"But you're jack Sparrow," I called as I got up to follow him, "You vanished from under the eyes of seven agents of the East India Company, you sacked Nassau port without firing a single shot, so tell me again, why you can not take me aboard?" I was an inch from his face now, standing directly in front of him so as to block his path.
"I can't... I can't because I can't take care of a daughter, all right?" He said, putting his hands on my shoulders.
"Father, I am nineteen years old now," I pointed out, "I can take care of myself."
"Well, then, why the bloody hell do you want to come aboard with me anyway?" He sounded agitated.
"Because all my life I have wanted to finally know my father, and now I do. And he is the greatest pirate in the Spanish Main! Why in the bloody hell would I NOT want to go?" I knew I had a point. He could not say no, he had no reason to.
"Rose," he began.
"Father, please," I asked, looking straight into his eyes.
"I'll tell you what, love," he said, "meet me right here tomorrow at sunrise, I shall tell you then whether or not you can come along and live with us. It is, after all, a most important decision in both our lives. So, come here tomorrow, at sunrise, ready for going in case I decide you can come along, savvy?"
"Yes," I whispered, still in front of him, hardly being able to hold back my overwhelming delight, tears of joy flooding my eyes.
"Good, now that we have all that settled, I need more rum." He said, walking around me in the direction of the bar once more. I laughed and followed, for I was also badly in need of a beverage.
CHAPTER FIVE
When we entered the bar, we sat down at the table and ordered another round of rum, my treat.
"Where did you get that?" Jack said, gesturing toward the bag of money I had stolen earlier that evening.
"I stole it." I stated simply, knowing he would ask from whom.
"And who, may I ask, did you steal twenty shillings from?"
"A man I met here earlier."
"And why did you steal twenty shillings from a man you met?" Jack was clearly confused.
"Because he offered me a drink."
"Well, bloody hell, take it, love! You must be daft!"
"No no, I did, but you don't understand, he thought I was a whore. So I threatened him with my pistol-"
"Which has no shots," Annaclara interjected.
"Which has no shots, yes, and when he ran away from me, I took the money he left and it is now mine, not very much, I must say, but gold is gold."
We all talked and laughed and got moderately drunk (except for Jack, of course, who was nearly falling out of his seat with sheer drunkenness), then we bid our goodnights and Jack left, accompanied by Annamaria and Mr. Gibbs. When Annaclara and I returned to our little flat, I told her all about what had taken place and what was to take place the following morning.
"So you are going to go live aboard Jack's ship and sail the seas as a pirate?"
"Yes, that is how it seems," I said.
"Well that's amazing!" Annaclara shouted.
"Yes, it is..." I said dreamily, already thinking about my first commandeering of a ship and my first raid with my father. Then what she had said hit me like a ton of brick, "What do you mean, 'that's amazing'?" I asked, slightly hurt that she was happy to see me go.
"No," Annaclara said soothingly, detecting the hurt feelings in my voice, "It's amazing because I am going as well!"
"You what?" I said, completely taken off guard by what she had just said.
"I wasn't going to tell you until tonight, but Annamaria asked me last night while you and Jack were gone.
"So... we're going together, then," I said, still somewhat dumbfounded.
"That's fantastic!" Annaclara said. After we had comprehended all of this, we went to sleep, both most likely to dream of the following morning.
I awoke, still a bit dreamy, and rushed to get the bag I had packed the previous evening. Annaclara was already waiting for me by the door of the bar and we set off together. When we arrived at the beach, Jack and Annamaria were already waiting for us. When we approached them, something seemed rather odd. They weren't smiling; they were just standing there. When I reached Jack, I asked what was wrong. He didn't answer. Instead, he pulled out his pistol and shot Annaclara. Everything was hazy; I could feel myself falling ...
I woke up on the floor with a start. Thank God it had only been a dream. Annaclara was standing by my side.
"You took a bit of a fall, didn't you?" She asked with a touch of sarcasm.
"Shut up." I said, "Hurry up and pack. It's time to go. We have to get there by sunrise or they'll leave without us."
Annaclara just stood there. "GO!" I shouted.
"I have everything I need, you?"
"I packed last night," I told her matter-of-factly, suddenly remembering my dream.
"Well then, I guess we're off." She replied. And we were.
When we arrived at the beach it was empty. At least a pirate doesn't have to be at all punctual I thought to myself. We sat down on the sand and waited.
And waited.
And after about three or so hours, two specks appeared in the distance.
"Annaclara," I shouted, awakening Annaclara, "look! There by the horizon!"
"All I see is a couple of.... PEOPLE!" She screamed, "Rose it's people! They're finally here- what should we say? What does a pirate say to a fellow pirate? Ahoy? Hello? No, that sounds too formal, what about Yo Ho? Or maybe..."
"Annaclara," I interrupted.
"Yes?"
"Shut up. They're nearly here. Why don't we just let them say something first, then we'll answer accordingly. Yes?"
"Yes. Good." She said affirmatively. By that time they were no more than three or four meters off and we stood ready to greet them. Only, as we stood there, we exchanged glances and each of us knew what was going through the other's head. These two were not Annie and Jack. They were two big, dirty, smelly men. With another quick glance I could also see that Annaclara was as confused as I was about this.
"Erm, excuse me, but... who are you?" I asked when they had come closer.
"We're 'ere to take ye to the Captain," the shorter, burly one said, "Ye must be Rose," he said looking me up and down, "and ye," he said looking at Annaclara, "Are Annaclara?"
"Yes, I am, actually... But... How did you know which was which?"
The taller, more slender one answered this time, "You," he said looking at me, "are a spittin' image of Captain Sparrow." I really didn't know whether to take that as a flattering remark or not, but providing both Annaclara and Annamaria were discreetly swooning about my father, I assumed it was a good thing to look like him.
And after a brief moment we left. Toward my father's ship, the ship I would live on from now hopefully until the end of my days. Just me, my father, and the sea.
CHAPTER SIX
When I stepped on to the ship I was amazed. The entire deck was absolutely fierce with life! I had never seen so many people under the command of one man. My father was the captain of the single most amazing crew and ship I had ever seen. Suddenly, I noticed something I had not noticed before... The ship had black sails!! They only added to the ferocious and rugged pirate-legend that was Jack Sparrow... My father. The pirate. For the first time in nearly twelve years I felt at home.
"Ah, Rose!" I suddenly heard from behind me. I whirled around to see who's words those were. My father swayed toward me in a drunken, and albeit, somewhat feminine way. When he reached me he bent down to me and began to speak again, I could smell the rum on his breath. "How was the walk, love? Did ol' Murtogg an' Mullroy treat you well?"
"Yes, father, they treated me fine." I responded, somewhat distracted by both the smell of the sea and the desire to escape from the smell of his breath. "Now, where am I to stay, Captain?"
He took a breath as if to say something, but he just stood there with the usual confused expression on his face.
"Father?" I said after about five minutes, "Do you have anywhere for me to stay?"
"Well, to be perfectly frank with ye, no, I don'." He said regretfully.
"Alright, then," I remarked with an air of annoyance building in my voice, (I detest unprepared ness.) "What am I going to do for the voyage, eh?"
He seemed to be thinking, so I said no more. I decided this was the opportune moment for studying my father. His eyes were brown, a deep, deep brown almost mistakable for black. They were lined in kohl, which only added to the mysterious flow of his facial features. I found it mildly comical that whenever he was thinking about anything for a long period of time his mouth opened ever so slightly, though his jaws were tightly clenched, therefore bearing his teeth in a strangely animal way. I wondered if he meant it to be that way. His hair was brown, nearly black, all in dreadlocks and kept away from his face with a scrap of deep red cloth. Though some of his hair was still hanging loose from the cloth and dangling helplessly in his face. He didn't seem to mind. Entwined and looped into his messy hair were beads of assorted size, shape, and colour and a few other odds and ends, and... Was that a stick? A bone, maybe? Whatever it was, I was mesmerized by it until he spoke again, which startled you.
"Alright, love, since me crew is still down in Tortuga, the only people who know yer a lass, SO, you'll make yerself look like a lad, savvy?" This suggestion both shocked and disgusted me. Sleeping in the same room with old, disgusting, dirty, perverted men? I thought not.
"And how, pray tell, do you expect me to do that?" I asked in a plainly annoyed and disgusted tone.
"Well, you cut your hair, you wear men's clothes, you...erm... well, you do what you do. You'll be fine. I'll put ye in Annamaria's charge, she'll make you a man."
I felt sick at the thought of being a man for the rest of my life, or at least until I could learn better dirty fighting skills...
"Alright, fine, I'll do that. For how long?"
"Until I teach you to use that cutlass properly and you learn how to sleep light with a knife by you at all times, then you can sleep under the stars, in me firs' mate's quarters, or wherever you like. Savvy?"
"Meh... Er, it's savvy with me."
"Good, then I'll get the other ladies and you'll be off. ANNAMARIA!"
A head peeked over the deck to see who had jut yelled. Strangely, though, it was neither Annamaria's nor Annaclara's. It was a man's. Not dirty and disgusting like the other pirates, but clean, and somewhat attractive, or so it seemed from the distance you were standing at.
"Father, who is that?" you inquired, pointing in the strange man's direction.
"Ah," your father said, as if knowing exactly what was going through your head, "That would be Chaman,"
"Is he part of your crew, then?"
"No, picked 'im up while we were on the southern coast of India," he said blankly, "Chaman! Come 'ere, lad!"
The young boy obeyed and scampered toward where I was standing with my father.
"Hello, Chaman, My name is Rose," You say calmly, holding out a hand for him to shake.
"Erm, love, Chaman learned to greet in a different way..." My father said rather earnestly, with a slight snigger in his tone.
