Not mine! Disney lays claim to that treasure, me hearties. Thanks to Lewis Carroll for the chapter title. Well boots are shoes, aren't they.
This chapter goes out to my sister as one of her late birthday presents.
Thanks to all those kind enough to review. Sorry this is so long in coming and so short in length. Am battling a bad case of writer's block.
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Black Hearts and Silence- by BlackJackSilver
Part Three- Of Ships and Shoes and Sealing Wax
The first time Bill laid eyes on Captain Leadgullet Mullet, was the first day, he was ever certain, that he was going to die.
After losing both his parents, most of his neighbors, and all the family's possessions, to a fire, a small for his age, seven year old Bill Turner, had gone down to the docks to sign on as a cabin boy. Most of the merchants said he was too young. Captain Leaner, who looked nothing like his name, said he would take him, for no pay, if he would sign on for five years. At that point, Bill was so hungry and tired he was having trouble standing. He did not imagine that he would live long enough to find a better option.
The May Hope was not a flashy ship. It was an old and ugly bark, but looked sturdy enough. It was only many days into the voyage to the Caribbean, that Bill discovered the May Hope was a slave ship. She would never again return to England.
She sailed the slavers' round, carrying rum to West Africa, and slaves to the rum plantations throughout the Caribbean. On the journey over, his duties were like those of any other boy on a merchant ship. On the journey back, he dished out slop for the slaves, packed like fish in the hold, so tightly, he had to crawl over their naked bodies, to distribute the meager rations. When a voyage did not go as planned, he did not have to do this, as a slave received no ration.
He and a slightly older boy named Deaf Edward, who spoke and seemed to think rather slowly, but was not hard of hearing, unchained the dead bodies, and dragged them onto the deck, to drop them over the side. At first, Bill said a little prayer, then silently to himself, because the crew had made fun. One day he realized that he had stopped, and could not remember when. Even on a good voyage, half the slaves died from the poor conditions.
It was on Bill's seventh voyage back from West Africa that the May Hope was attacked and later sunk near Madagascar. Mullet's crew, mainly former slaves, killed every May Hope crewmember. Only he and Deaf Edward were spared. Every slave was freed, fed, clothed, and given the choice of joining up, or being dropped at Madagascar. Bill and Deaf Edward were given no choice, but came to enjoy working on the Catherine Wheel. Mullet and the crew soon treated them like sons or younger brothers. Bill felt forgiven for how they had all met.
Apart from the money stripped from the dead crews, and confiscated supplies, Bill could see no profit in the Catherine Wheel's dangerous activities. He did understand what drove the crew, as well as his new Captain. Some things did not have a price tag. Some ventures are their own reward.
Some years after he left the crew, Bill heard that Mullet had settled down with a much younger wife, and had given the Wheel to his first mate, a slender fierce eyed former slave named Patrick. The man was born into slavery and never knew his African heritage. It did not stop him learning many of the languages and dialects of his forgotten homeland. Even back when Bill had known him, the man was a fine sailor and navigator. A year or two later, the Catherine Wheel disappeared. No one knew whether it was lost by storm, captured, sunk by slavers, or if it simply moved on. It was never again seen off Madagascar.
Some mysteries are meant to be. Bill believed she was still out there, somewhere. He knew Leadgullet did too.
It would take Bill many years, and many comparisons, to truly appreciate the experience, the crew, and the captain of the Catherine Wheel. Perhaps it took the curse, Barbossa, and the problem of three gold coins. In any case, Bill felt he owed the best part of the man he had become, to his first good captain, a man who had been a father, and a savior to him, for he had given him a life at sea, and taught him the value of a soul, any soul, even his own.
It was not with his soul in mind, that Bill confronted Barbossa. Bill felt his soul was past redeeming. This was more a matter of his conscience.
"Are ya mad, Turner? Do ya realize that you suffer this curse, same as the rest of us? Where does the profit lie? What's in yer head man? Surely, yer not still pinin' over Jack Sparrow! Fer if ya are, I can tell ya; he's not worth it! Even if he weren't dead as that bloody bone in his hair, which he is, he'd be a poor excuse for this amount of foolishness."
"I am not mad. I say with some confidence that I am the only sane man on this ship. I hand you this curse for all eternity, Barbossa. Yes, I damn myself with the rest of you, and regret not the fate, but the company. The fate I deserve; the company, even I deserve better. I should have died with Captain Jack Sparrow. My only consolation is that I lived to avenge him. Even bilge rats can understand the basest of human motives. Surely you can comprehend revenge. How does it taste, Barbossa? To me, it is far sweeter than any apple."
Having sealed all their fates, Bill was not surprised by Barbossa's wrath. He had relied upon it. He did give the man points, considering the state Barbossa was in, for his creativity.
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