AN (11/8): Sorry for the holdup. I was sick on Saturday and Sunday, and didn't have as much time as I thought I would've to write. I can't quite type in my sleep...
Chapter 18: Cabin
Jack's heart jumped to his throat a few times as the longboat neared the dark boat bobbing in the crystal blue waters of the Caribbean off the shores of that accursed island. He wasn't sure if it was the Black Pearl or some alien vessel until he remembered the telescope hiding under his seat at the stern. Feeling a bit like an anxious parent, Jack stood slowly up and carefully lifted the wooden lid to the seat he'd been sitting on. Smiling as the gold glint caught his gaze, Jack gently pulled the delicate instrument out and put it to his left eye. It was the Pearl. As soon as Jack was able to confirm that, he felt as though things might turn out all right. So what if a quarter of his crew had mutinied? They were now stuck on that island. In a few years, the Pearl could always return and take the gold that Matthew had greedily kept for himself. They'd surely be dead by then. Besides, Jack was fairly certain that they'd ended up with the sacks containing the most valuable swag. It was probably better to leave the back-stabbing leech behind with his consort.
Jack's slightly good mood was dashed again as the jaunty craft neared the Pearl. Apparently there'd been a bit of a fight, for his precious Pearl had holes in her sides and sails. It'd be quite a job for them to nurse her back to a port. None of the crew with him said anything. They seemed afraid that he'd explode or something. Bootstrap in particular looked uneasy as the skiff was raised back onto the Pearl and they all stepped out. Perhaps he thought he was responsible for what had happened.
Actually, Jack had put the whole ordeal behind him, as he commonly did with problems. No sense in worrying about a mutinous "friend" when his mistress was in danger. Jack liked to think of the Pearl as his mistress and the sea his wife, for he'd be able to live if the Pearl was gone but wouldn't be able to live without the sea. As he stepped onto the deck, Jack noticed that some more of his crew were missing, presumably dead from the fight that had taken place. He said nothing as Barbossa approached him with a slightly worried look on his grizzled and sweaty face, instead going over to the lee board side of the Pearl and glancing at the water. The acrid taste of smoke violated his nostrils as he noticed a small sloop burning nearby. No match for the Pearl's state of the art cannon. Apparently Matthew was stuck on that scab of the sea.
Jack smiled faintly at the burning ship, trying to ignore the bodies of men he could faintly make out if he concentrated hard enough. Matthew would get his reward for sowing discord on his ship. Pivoting around on his left foot, Jack looked at Barbossa. "Attacked, eh?" He was grateful he had someone competent to leave behind. If someone like Ragetti or Pintel had been in charge, Jack probably wouldn't have a ship any longer. As it was, the Pearl was floating away from the burning vessel as fast as she could go.
"Aye." Barbossa smiled faintly, looking quite fatigued. "Abou' three hours ago. Nasty li'le bugger 'ad it comin'." He turned his serious gaze out to the flames dancing on the playful water. Any moment now the ship would explode.
"Good job." Jack was never one to give out compliments freely, and this one was very sincere. "Would've los' the Pearl if it 'adn' been for ye, Hector." Feeling a bit stupid, Jack offered his hand to the older man.
"Jus' doin' me duty, Cap'n," Barbossa responded, grasping Jack's hand and shaking it. Something vaguely familiar about Barbossa's voice sent a shiver down Jack's spine. Where had he heard it before? What a silly question to ask yourself. Of course he'd heard Barbossa's voice before. Jack had been a pirate for nearly ten years now and Barbossa had been the first mate of the original crew he'd joined.
Shaking all that aside, Jack grinned and turned to the crew after releasing Barbossa's hand. "Well, then, gents, I sugges' tha' we divvy up the swag we 'ave." A hearty cheer erupted from the fatigued crew as Jack motioned for some of his men to take the booty to the galley, where it would be distributed fairly. Of course, not evenly, for those of higher positions were naturally entitled to a higher cut, but pirates still were very generous in spreading the wealth around the crew, unless the captain happened to be a greedy man who refused to share. Jack definitely wasn't greedy, though he was partially driven by greed. There is a fine line between being greedy and doing things for the love of money. Jack could care less about gold:as long as he had food to eat and a ship to command (for he'd realized for one horrible moment that he might actually lose his ship) he was content.
It took no time at all to divide up the gold and Jack gave Ragetti the promised amount for losing his eye. The haggard man was finally getting used to only seeing out of one eye, for he wasn't running into things nearly as often due to his bad depth perception. It had been both funny and sad to see Ragetti get used to his new vision, and Jack had often had to glare at his men who seemed to be laughing at the poor individual, for Ragetti didn't take it too well at first. That had been until Pintel had cajoled that out of the man. Pintel, at first, had been quite sympathetic to Ragetti until Ragetti tried to milk him of all his best intentions in Portobello. Their initial argument seemed to have disappeared while Jack was on the island, though, for they were talking together of how they planned to spend their cut of the money.
Once it was divided up, Jack meandered his way to his cabin, humming some old sailing tune he'd once heard his mother sing. The chords of that mournful tale died slowly as he opened his cabin door and stepped in. Pleasant wafts hit his nostrils as he shut the door behind him and took off his overcoat, gently draping it over the side of a rather used green armchair. He treated it with almost a reverence one would expect from the pious inside of a cathedral. This was really quite surprising for Jack's cabin happened to be a sordid mess of papers, maps, trinkets, and books strewn across his red bedspread and the dark floor of the ship itself. A scratched up oak desk in the corner was over-flowing with bits of parchment. Jack couldn't help but feel safe in here-this was the only room in the ship that smelled completely like himself. Amazing how attached people get to specific scents. Its probably why something foreign seems so bad.
"Glad tha's over," Jack commented to himself in a small, well-secured mirror on top of his absolutely dilapidated dresser. Perhaps the captain should spend some of his hard-earned swag on some new furniture for his cabin. Then again, Jack didn't spend much time in here, unless he needed to think or sleep. He spent as much time outside as possible. "Ye look horrible." Jack didn't know why so many people thought it strange if people talked to themselves. You're always your worst critic, as they say, and it is reasonable to conclude from that that you, in fact, will be the most honest person with yourself. Besides, its easier to say what you want to say than think it out, for it seems more natural.
"Thanks," Jack replied, grinning slightly. He sighed and glanced around his cabin with a faint frown. What would Calico Jack say if he could see this mess? Well, probably nothing. But what would his mother say? Well, she'd probably say something about his father getting upset over this sort of behavior. And that would result in a whipping. Maybe that was why Jack kept it comfortably dirty-to defy his over-repressive father.
Shaking his head slightly, Jack looked away from the mirror. No sense in spending all of his time absorbed in his own reflection. That brought nothing but shame, for when Jack looked into the mirror, he saw himself as a cheating, lying, unfaithful, unintelligent, and dastardly character who shouldn't be allowed the luxury to do more than swab the decks. Of course, that's not a very good self-image, and it certainly didn't seem to fit the illustrious pirate, but he was very good at concealing what he actually felt. Perhaps someday he would become like Calico Jack-confident in everything he did, but that day was not today. Jack's manhood had just been threatened. He'd almost lost the thing most important to him. And Jack really didn't think he'd be able to handle another blow like that. He'd had a fairly rough twenty-six years aboard this place man called earth. And he'd probably explode if something else went wrong. Matthew's treachery made him see that now.
It is quite remarkable that Jack was feeling as well as he was feeling right now. Many men would become blubbering fools in the quiet sanctity of their cabin after an ordeal like a mutiny. Of course, none would ever admit to such "feminine" behavior, but most would probably resort to it. Instead, Jack grabbed a leather-bound book out of his bookshelf and flopped down on his bed, determined to at least finish it before his next shift. Jack is a very hard person to deter when he sets his mind on something.
Jack did manage to finish the book before his next shift. In fact, he had an hour or so of down time. Generally he'd be sleeping right now, but Jack wanted to get as far away from that island as possible, and thoughts of sleep seemed to be almost sacrilegious. Nothing good had ever happened when a paranoid person fell asleep without intending to.
Sighing, Jack closed the fairly thick book, faintly amused at the squat candle slowly melting itself into oblivion. It almost appeared to be a person right now. "What now?" Jack asked himself with a sigh, watching with his dark brown eyes as the flame flickered and played with the expulsion of air from his mouth. "I don' particularly wan' t' start all of them over again."
He lay his head down on his hands, wishing there were some way he could forget that awful smirk on Matthew's face. He really hadn't expected such a thing from Bootstrap's brother-in-law. Fortunately, it did push back the whole conversation about concealing things that Jack needed to have with his oldest friend. That rain earlier today (or was it yesterday?) had definitely put a damper on things, rubbing off the gilded gold flakes on Jack and Bootstrap's friendship. Why hadn't the man been honest before? It'd been nearly a year and a half now. Wouldn't your best friend explain why he did something so hurtful it threw you into the gaping fangs of despair?
Apparently not. Sighing, Jack sat slumped over like that for a bit. What he needed was a distraction. But he honestly couldn't think of any good distractions. Wait a moment...what about that emerald? It'd been the only emerald in the entire pile of swag, oddly enough. Perhaps it would keep his mind from dwelling on those subjects that should be smothered, if at all possible.
Allowing a false grin to sweep his face, Jack sat up. He gracefully stood and pushed his chair in, waltzing towards the overcoat on his armchair. While pockets hadn't been invented yet, Jack had long ago realized that he needed somewhere to stow his stuff. So, he'd had a special order one day in a tailor shop run by women. And he now had pockets. They were much more convenient than shoes.
Sticking one of his tanned hands into his pocket, Jack retrieved the cold stone and a spare piece of paper that happened to be right next to it. Curious...Jack didn't remember picking up any paper. Generally, if he received a tidbit of written word, he'd toss it in his cabin (hence the mess) rather than put it on his person. Jack didn't like to admit to his crew that he could read. Those who were deemed "intellectuals" often ended up being keelhauled. Better to just throw things away and forget about them.
Slowly pulling the objects out, Jack looked at the emerald first. Sparkles were always music to pirates' ears, as it were. It was a very fine emerald-perfectly cut. And it reflected the candlelight superbly. Grinning, Jack placed it back into his pocket. He'd spend it on something...or would maybe get it put into a fine sword. The world was full of possibilities.
He frowned, however, as he unfolded the parchment. This was something that made no sense. Jack didn't like things that made no sense. Written on the paper with a faint smear of reddish brown material were the numbers 22 N and 76 W. What in the world did they mean? Obviously they were coordinates for something...but where in the world had the slip of paper come from? Clearly not from the cave, or it would have water damage. Had Matthew slipped it into his pocket or something? Maybe this was a trap.
Jack didn't really think it was a trap, however. Something in his very soul wouldn't let him think like that. Besides, the writing was incredibly familiar. So familiar, in fact, that Jack was positive he'd read it before. But when? Unfortunately, his years of abusing alcohol were starting to catch up with him, as it were. Connections didn't come as easily as they once had.
"Where've I seen it?" Jack said aloud as he folded the paper almost reverently back up and placed it in his desk. He started pacing. Maybe the connection would come to him this way. Probably not, but why not at least try?
Unfortunately, pacing didn't help. All it did was make Jack more frustrated. He knew whose handwriting it was. It was on the tip of his tongue, as it were. He just couldn't get it to come out. Sighing, he gave up the futile gesture of walking back and forth. Judging by the amount of light filtering into his sanctuary, he had to go out and take over from Bootstrap. What an awkward conversation...so awkward that Jack didn't really want to take over from the man. But it was his duty. Besides, he loved his Pearl more than anything else, especially since he'd almost lost her.
Alteng: Tis all right. I'm just glad that you finally left a review. I was getting a bit worried...and when's your next chapter of our favorite inept pirates coming out? I'm very anxious...
And I'm glad you enjoyed the berry scene. One of those disturbing things that likes to pop out of my mind...if you could see me in real life, you'd be amazed...
Aliana Archer: Thank you for leaving another review! It's almost like easter each time I update...dunno where that simile came from, but I'm quite tired right now. Hope you liked this one. And that it wasn't too confusing. A tired author is kinda scary...
Guess who...: Is it Santa? Am I getting a pony for Christmas? And I'll have to check her out. Sometime. Keep reminding me.
sunkist3208: It wasn't both of them. Just Matthew. Evil little git. I guess I was just feeling particularly evil towards Jack that day, for I also had him be the villain in my other fic... Yes, your last guess was correct. Though, it will take me quite a while for that whole branch to be explained...tis just creepy, eh? And yay! I get me a pokeball! Does it have anything inside?
Laura: Well, Matthew ish a bad guy. Decided to mutiny for treasure. Fortunately, he gets what he deserves. And go Halloween Candy! Evil Bootstrap, betraying Jack like that... And thank you so much for catching up on your reviewing! It meant a lot to me!
Jack: School? All right. We just started another term. But I have an independent study period. Gives me more free time at home. If I hadn't been sick...but I was, so, oh well. And I'm glad you didn't trust Matthew. I only left subtle clues about him. Purposefully, of course.
orcachick2005: I'd never mutiny under Jack either. He's much too...well, hot. And handsome. And smart. And I love witches' hats! Since you were the first reviewer, you get a loverly picture of a giraffe. Don't ask me why.