AN (8/27)- I've only been in school for five days, and I'm already quite sick of it. I've decided that teachers like to swamp seniors with homework (especially when said senior is taking 5 AP classes), so I probably won't have much time to update. Which is odd, considering the fact that I have two English classes...but no free time in either of them. I shall update as frequently as I can, so keep on your toes if you want to learn what happens next.
Chapter 9: Deuces
It was nearly dusk when the Black Pearl limped into Tortuga, heaving one final breath before nearly fainting in exhaustion. After all of her passengers stepped firmly onto dry ground, the Pearl seemed to be panting, the exertion of the arduous journey with numerous holes in her side finally catching up to her. A few hours later, she tipped over, though that was to careen, or remove, the massive amounts of barnacles that had started tickling her spacious belly and to re-patch up some holes that had been hastily stuffed when discovered. Seeing a ship upside down in the dark is rather like seeing some gigantic turtle tipped onto it's side, unable to move and appearing quite sharp.
Captain Jack Sparrow was watching the entire operation, worry in his eyes. If one could compare the illustrious captain to something, it would probably be a man waiting for the birth of his first child. There were footprints in the sand from him pacing almost deep enough to provide a drinking source to the numerous chickens roaming the island if it rained. His clothes were in tatters; due to the fact that everybody who'd survived that disastrous raid on that heavily armed ship had to put more than one hundred percent of their best efforts in. Ships like the Pearl were hard to sail with only a few people, especially since Ragetti was too much in shock to help at all. They'd bandaged his eye as best as they could, hoping that the specialist that resided on Tortuga would be able to do more, especially since his eye looked like it might be getting an infection.
It was hard to tell if Jack was in such an uncharacteristic mood because of the numerous burials at sea he'd been in charge of or if it was just the anxiety of what the very capable men were doing to his ship. Seeing her being careened like that was just a bit disconcerting. As he made his footsteps about an inch deeper, Jack decided that watching like this wasn't a good idea. He should be on the lookout for new men to add to his crew and not leave it just to Barbossa. And at least wet his lips a bit with his favorite beverage.
"Deal me in," Jack said with a slightly slurred voice as he sat down in a small tavern called Night's Rest near the docks of Tortuga next to several brothels that Jack had been to. He liked to gamble once in a while. It was a good distraction that didn't necessarily cost as much money as pleasurable company and he was able to converse with the local drunkards and the ever changing sailors that graced Tortuga with their presence. Therefore, it was a pretty good place to find some more fine, upstanding examples of loyalty to join his crew. Five cards were quickly placed in front of Jack as he anted up.
Slowly reaching over, Jack pulled his cards off the table, glancing at them like he might glance at an old friend. He had an absolutely horrible hand, yet he didn't let that register as the bidding started. Trading three cards, he finally ended up with a pair of deuces, the weakest hand one could have in poker. Apparently whomever had taught him to play the game hadn't told him to bet on a worthless hand, so Jack was soon in a bidding war with a rather tall and black man calling himself Koehler. Koehler seemed to be in no hurry to stop upping the amount in the already large pot, and Jack found himself betting copious amounts of money he really didn't have over a pair of twos.
As Koehler put in another ten pounds, Jack began to get a bit worried. Pounds were rather stable forms of currency during the early part of the eighteenth century (worth about $160 in modern US currency) and Jack really didn't know if he dared carry on the charade any further. He couldn't exactly withdraw, though, for the stakes were much to high and he'd gone this far. He might as well just continue bluffing. Keeping an eerily straight face, Jack matched Koehler's bet and raised it by a crown.
Koehler seemed to be getting a bit worried now, a faint bead of sweat forming around his hair-line and giving him the impression of having just come out of water. The barest trace of doubt went across his face as he met Jack's bet and called.
Jack sighed to himself. He'd been hoping to force Koehler to fold, even though he knew the chances of that were very small. The air in the tavern was tense as Koehler revealed his cards first-a full house, Aces high. Everyone in the room seemed awed by that hand, breathlessly turning to watch Jack put his cards down. As Jack did, looking mighty confident even though he knew he'd lost, a great deal of laughter broke out amongst the crowd. A nervous type of laughter that didn't seem to be able to be contained, it soon spread to everyone except Jack as they stared at his lowly pair of twos. How could he have been so stupid to bet so much on nothing?
After the laughter died down, Koehler rightfully took his pile of money. The other two persons who'd been in the game were glaring at Jack. They'd both had hands that could've beat his. Jack grinned to them, carefully eyeing the pile of money he still had left. He decided that he wanted to win now as he watched the cards hit the table in front of him and the crowd talking about him behind his back. Wanted to show them all up.
The room slowly quieted again as the gamblers took their cards and surveyed them carefully. Jack slowly reached across the table and glanced at his cards, looking at them with a rather disdainful look. A Jack of hearts, a Queen of hearts, a ten of hearts, a King of hearts, and a three of spades. Nothing unless he'd be able to get another card with those red hearts on it. The highest hand if he could manage to get the Ace of hearts. But Jack hadn't ever gotten a straight royal flush in his life. Come to think of it, he'd never gotten a royal flush or a straight, either.
The betting started as it always does-rather low. All three of the men at the table were having a very hard time taking Jack's bets seriously. Sure, they'd love to milk him for all he had, but it just seemed too easy. Perhaps the fairly infamous captain hadn't ever played poker before-a rather hilarious situation. Gambling and playing with cards was common among all sailors-it helped pass the time between ports.
The dealer, known as Simbakka, slowly asked each player how many cards they wanted, starting with the person to the left of him, known as Nipperkin. Odd nickname for a sailor or pirate, but one doesn't get to choose their metonym. He probably had some sort of interesting story behind it, but Jack really didn't care. He was only faintly interested to hear Nipperkin ask for three cards. That probably meant that he had nothing good or no ace, for if you don't have an ace, the most cards you can switch is three. Koehler came next, taking two. This either meant Koehler had three of the same card, or was trying for something like a flush or a straight. It could also mean nothing-perhaps he was just bluffing. But Jack knew that wasn't so when he noticed a faint sparkle in the black man's brown eyes. He'd just gotten whatever cards he'd been looking for.
Jack slowly put down his three of spades, his heart beating like some sort of African drum as Simbakka handed him a new card, face down. Slowly inching his fingers forward while possessively cradling his other cards to his chest, Jack pulled the new card back and picked it up, putting it behind all of his other cards. He didn't want to look at it until after the betting stopped and everything was called, afraid that if it was something good, he'd give it all away by his reaction. Nipperkin confidently started the bidding at about a crown.
The bidding progressed to just about the same numbers it had been before, Koehler pushing Nipperkin and Simbakka out of the betting with the sheer amount of money he'd just won from Jack. Jack, even though he had no idea what the last card was, kept matching Koehler, determined to earn his old money, plus a little more, back. When he was almost out of shillings, Jack slowly met Koehler's last raise and called. Generally, the person who did the calling showed his cards first, but Koehler must've been confident he'd won, for he threw his cards triumphantly down to the table and announced, "I've a straight flush," with a victorious sound to his somewhat raspy voice, preparing to take the money from the table.
Jack frowned slightly-the only thing higher than a straight flush was a royal flush, and he wasn't even sure if he had one. "Don' think tha' ye've won yet," he remarked glibly, putting his cards down one at a time. First came the Queen, then the King, the Jack, the ten, and finally, the Ace of hearts. He'd actually won. It took a while for that to hit everyone on the table, especially Koehler. When he'd realized that he'd lost as Jack started pulling the money towards himself, he swore quite vehemently. "A royal flush beats out a straight flush," Jack commented, noticing the look Koehler was giving him and speeding up the whole process of getting his money. This did not look good.
Koehler swore again, slamming his hand onto the table. "You cheated!" he proclaimed, murder written in his eyes. "Give me back me money!"
Jack frowned, though he did not pause in his rapid retrieval of the various coins. "I did not cheat," he replied, sounding rather indignant at the mere suggestion of him cheating. "This is me money fair an' square, mate." After grabbing the last shilling, he stood and bowed to Simbakka, Nipperkin, and Koehler. "I'm afraid tha' I mus' bid ye farewell now," he said with a frown. "Sorry t' leave like this. Got things t' do, women t' see."
Koehler, Simbakka, and Nipperkin stood, all of them clearly thinking he'd cheated. "Why don' ye stay jus' a bi' longer, Captain Sparra?" Nipperkin asked boldly, taking a step towards Jack's chair.
"Aye," Simbakka agreed. "We jus' wan' t' 'ave another round. Wan' t' make sure tha' ye din' take all of our money. It would be a cryin' shame if ye swindled us." His voice was as hard as rough diamonds as he started approaching Jack as well.
"Gentlemen, please. I may be a scallywag, miscreant, an' thief, bu' I am no' a cheater," Jack replied, trying to step backwards. He found his way blocked by a wall, and suddenly remembered that he'd been the lucky person who'd been able to sit next to the rough stone wall and use it as a backrest. It worked much better than those rickety wooden chairs that always seemed to give you splinters if you sat up straight in them.
"I find tha' hard t' believe," Koehler replied. The three men were now within reaching distance of Jack. Koehler glanced at his companions. "I think its time we taught 'im a lesson."
Jack looked like he was about to reply to that comment when a sharp jab to his stomach forced all of the air out of his lungs. Gasping, he looked like he'd protest about that as a punch connected with his jaw, giving the distinct sound of something breaking. Now, that could either be Koehler's fist or something in Jack's mouth, and by the way his lower gums were screaming in agony, Jack was rather certain his molar had broken in two. He didn't react-nor did he have time to-as Simbakka hit his eye with the force of a rampaging bear trying to defend her cub.
Jack staggered as much as the wall would allow, cursing his decision to sit here. It made him the perfect target because he had no where to go and the wall acted as such a nice stop, making the back of his head hurt as the inertia traveled from their fists to his body and stopped abruptly at the wall. As each of the men pulled their hands back to strike Jack again, Jack feebly lifted his arms up to block them. It didn't work as he was hit in the gut, face, and neck a few seconds after each other. The crowd that had been watching the whole gambling scene were eagerly putting up bets as to how long Jack could handle the beating.
As the three dirty men pulled their fists back again to punch Jack, Jack slowly reached down and pulled out his pistol. "Gentlemen," he said with rather slurry speech, trying not to slobber all over the floor. "I fink va' if enough." He was just about to cock his trusty pistol when Koehler hit him across the face again, hitting the other side of his mouth. Simbakka hit his hand, making him drop the pistol, and Nipperkin hit his stomach, making him double over in pain again, falling to the floor. Once there, they proceeded to kick him until he was unconscious.
Jack woke up several hours later as a wench with long blonde tresses gently pressed a cold cloth to his head. He looked horrible-most of his face was an ugly color of purple or an indignant shade of green. He breathed and moaned as fire filled up his lungs, struggling to focus. "How long 'ave I been out?" he managed to say clearly, though his mouth was killing him and his cheeks were swollen.
The woman shrugged. "I dunno, luv. Found ye on the floor like this abou' ten minutes ago." She looked quite sympathetic, her pale blue eyes staring at him curiously. "Ye know, ye should probably find out who did this t' ye. I fink they took yer money."
Jack sighed, slowly nodding, even though it hurt just to blink. "I know they did, luv. Tha's the las' time I ever gamble." He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the cool feel of the rag on his head seep through his mind. Everything was becoming clearer now, and when he opened his eyes again, he could focus properly. "Can ye 'elp me up?" he asked his angel of mercy with the scandalously low-cut dress.
She nodded, crawling back and standing up after helping him to a sitting position. "I think ye should probably see a surgeon," she commented, reaching down with her soft and powerful hand.
"Probably," Jack admitted, his eyes glazing over. "Bu' I think I'll be fine wivou' bein' bled." Most surgeons and doctors used the old leech technique or tried to bleed the problem out of their patient. Jack found everything they did but setting broken bones codswallop, so he decided long ago not to use a surgeon unless forced to.
The woman laughed lightly, though she seemed to think otherwise. It wasn't her place though. "Goin' t' take me hand or not?" she asked impatiently. "I don' 'ave all day t' be charitable."
Jack smiled weakly and grabbed her hand, slowly standing up. There was dried blood on his cheek, and as he looked down at the floor, he could see why there was blood there. His nose was also sporting the dark brownish-red of dried blood. "I don' ever wan' t' see those three again," he muttered to himself, bowing slightly to the woman and struggling not to wince. "Thank ye, me kind lady. I'd compensate ye, bu' I've been mugged."
She laughed, amused by this odd man who she'd honestly thought was dead. "Not a problem, sir. Jus' remember t' ask fer me the nex' time yer 'ere. Me name's Elizabeth, bu' everyone calls me Lizzy."
"Thank ye, Lizzy. An' I promise I shall. Bu' firs', I need t' wash the blood off me face." Jack smiled weakly and bowed again, uneasily taking a step forward and walking away from the very generous strumpet. She really proved his theory-there were all kinds of people in each profession. The bartender gave him an odd look, rather surprised to see him walking, but Jack really didn't care. People always gave him looks like that, wondering how he could always walk like a drunk man and why he did his hair so peculiarly. Jack really just wanted to stand out, for he knew if he was recognizable, more people would know him.
Kay...my replies this chapter will be a bit short, because I'm leaving in about ten minutes to visit a college campus.
Daisy: Bet that you didn't think I'd actually use that name, eh? And I hope this chapter was action packed enough. Thanks for the review! You're a very helpful support!
sunkist3208: And you still need to update. But I can understand writer's block. Horribly nasty thing, it is. Thanks for leaving your thoughts! I enjoy reading your oft-times sugar crazy reviws.
Rachel Sparrow: Thanks for finding it so funny! And I realize that he does need compensation, but I'm too lazy to do research...I'll get around to it. Thanks for leaving a review!
Laura: Yay! You finally lefted a review! I'm so happy! I'm glad you found my last chapter so vivid...I really could've gone into more details.
DragonHunter200: Thank you for being such an ardent supporter! I was laughing my head off when I typed up that dream. It has some significance, though...I'll get into that later, maybe, unless I forget about it. Anyway, thanks for your compliments and your review!
Alteng: I figured you'd be proud of me for building up Jack and Barbossa's relationship. Though, I just did something that will be a bit of a letdown...we'll see how Jack takes it, though. And Barbossa's appearance...all described by what Jack sees. He really isn't that much of a stick, but Jack doesn't know that...And, yes, that's what the Spaniard means. But I didn't get to that this chapter, though I really intended to. Hope you recognized some of the names, though...
Jack: I thank you for your honesty and hope that you enjoy this chapter better. It is still slightly morbid, but not anything like the last one. No eyes getting poked out.
Eccentric Banshee: Though you won't see this reply in ages, thanks! I love your fanfic too! I'm so glad we bumped into each other on the boards...and I plan to finish off yours, after I get back from the college I'm visiting.