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.
