For who, to dumb Forgetfullness a prey,
This pleasing anxious being e'er resigned
Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day
Nor cast one longing ling'ring look behind?
Immortal
Chapter Three: Buried On an Island That Cannot Be Found
Will and Elizabeth, from a culmination of odd-jobs, luck, and many years of saving, had a lot of money. Even so, their Boston apartment was a fairly modest place. It had only one bedroom, but sleep did them little good; food was useless, and normal comforts escaped them. So the furniture served for appearances more than anything else. Besides the empty refrigerator and veiled windows, it was a mundane place.
Will flicked on a light, "We ought to get moving."
He flung open a closet door and yanked out a suitcase. Jack poked and peered around the apartment, touched stuff and tapped the television set. There were garage sale-class pictures on the yellow walls; Jack admired them. Then, Will pushed passed him with a bundle of clothes. He stuffed them into a ratty suitcase. Elizabeth offered him some Rainbow sandals and those too were shoved in. Leaning against a wall, Jack watched them for a little.
"You seem to be in a hurry," he commented.
Elizabeth gave him a look.
"At any moment the police may appear. Do you think we should be here, ready and willing to explain why Dr. Kravitz fell out of a window?"
Jack smiled,
"Trust me, love, you've got time."
"And how do you know that?" Will asked, looking up from the suitcase.
Jack spread his arms wide as though making an entrance,
"I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, thus I know. And I really think you ought to hear what I have found."
Will glanced at Elizabeth. Laying the suitcase aside, he gestured towards the table. The three immortals took a seat, and Jack promptly put his feet on the table.
"So," Elizabeth began, "what did you find?"
Jack smiled idiotically. It was odd, Will thought, how little he'd changed since that night so many decades ago. The bandana was gone, the goatee was not braided. But his hair still remained black and messy and dirty gold teeth flashed as he talked. He still lived in that pirate coat; it was just patched so many times over it was not the same coat. Also, there was a spotted white shirt and a much-loved pair of jeans. Jack was, in painful truth, a spectacle. While Will and Elizabeth tried to conform to fashion, Jack conformed to nothing but himself.
However, Will mediated little on that.
"Is it news of my father?" he asked.
Jack made some odd gestures, "I've been around and I haven't been noticing much, I hate to admit, but I did notice that add of yours in the paper. Went 'Missing Boot-Strap, Will Pay Large Bill for it,' or something cute like that. But no, I don't have news of William."
He stood up, and pulled some sort of paper form a dark recess of his coat, "I have something far more interesting."
Elizabeth eyed the paper, "What is it?"
It was a touristy scrap of paper, advertising the Boston Museum of Maritime History. Evidently it had been in Jack's pocket for a while.
Jack continued without missing a beat, "I got this in the bus station of Massachusetts, after getting kicked off the-"
"But what…" Elizabeth leaned forward and made to take it.
"Eh, I'm reading this!" He ordered and pulled it from her reach.
After opening the broacher with flourish he read haltingly, " 'In September 1996 a teams of archeologists in the West Indies-' Our Caribbean, you could say," Jack interjected, "now where was I? ' uncovered one of the greatest historical finds of the century. The West Indies are sprayed with minuet, scattered and desert islands, mainly uncharted…' etc, etc, that runs on for a bit, but listen here… 'upon exploring further into the labyrinth of caves and waterways, Dr. Aversman and his team uncovered a horde of wealth; apparently left untouched for several decades. Jewels, coins, crowns, precious stones, spice, materials, Aztec artifacts and even umbrellas were amongst the wealth. The spoils are apparently the work of pirates from the around the mid eighteenth century…' it goes on but that should be enough."
Grave and careless at once, Jack tossed the broacher to Elizabeth.
She stared at it in shock. That photo depicted the pirate cave on Isla de Muerta, all right. There was, atop that mound, the cursed treasure of Cortes. Ransacked by overzealous professors.
"And read that part, that's the best of it," Jack pointed out a heading.
Will read over Elizabeth's shoulder.
"It's on display?" Elizabeth gasped in horror, "The cursed chest is part of a traveling display? In a museum? But that's madness."
Will shook his head.
"Not mad but impossible. I thought Barbossa would guard that island. And I was told that Isla de Muerta could not be found except by those who all ready know where it is."
Jack's eyes glimmered faintly as he stroked his goatee. Elizabeth clutched at the broacher and thought quickly.
"There would be nothing to stop them from taking a medallion. And if they did, we would not know who took it or what they did with it," she reasoned with finality.
"Aye. That's the crux of the matter, isn't it?" Jack began walking about for no ready reason, "Think about it. No one can find that island, unless they were guided. Now, that makes you wonder who would be doing the guiding. Now, I know it wasn't me, for a fact," he eyed them.
"Are you suggesting we showed them the island, Jack?" Will gasped. Jack held out his hands complacently.
"Not really, whelp."
"This is solving nothing!" Elizabeth succumbed to a characteristic outburst, "Any second now sirens could be sounding at the front door, while we're grasping at straws. The chest is at the Boston Museum of Maritime History, we know that at least. Let's work from there."
"That is an excellent idea I'll be seeing you all later!" Jack blurted and snatched his keys.
"And how can we reach you?"
Elizabeth called after him, but the door slammed and Jack was gone.
"Brilliant,' she finished and eyed Will.
He furrowed his brow and sighed.
"We might as well finish packing."