Disney- all Disney.
An Answer of Doubt- part 5
for Oneiriad, whose bibliomaniacal pirate captain is a constant inspiration.
James woke when a rough hand gently touched his forehead.
"You do not need to coddle me like an infant, Jack."
Laughter, definitely not belonging to Sparrow, inspired James to open his eyes.
"Just checkin fer fever, Commodore, sir. No sign of it yet."
"Of course, Mr. Gibbs. Please, call me James. I hold no rank here."
"Weren't sure if you'd remember me. Was a mighty long time ago."
"I could say the same."
"No mystery me rememberin' you. You was the only decent commanding officer I ever served under in the Navy."
"I'm sorry to hear that. Is that why you turned pirate?"
"Yes and no. Weren't so much I turned pirate, as piracy turned me. Didn't have a lot of choice in the matter, you could say."
There is always choice, some part of James wanted to say. He didn't, because he now knew that it was not always the case. Maybe it never was.
"How is Clemmons?"
"Better off, most likely. Hanged himself in the brig."
"Hanged himself? What? With one arm?"
"No. Used his clothes. Jack reckons if he'd showed that kind of enthusiasm sailin', he'd a been a Captain with his own ship. Accordin' to Marty, the short feller, who was sleeping off his nasty drunk in the opposite cell, Clemmons was babbling about how he'd rather swing than sink. We gave him a decent burial, poor lunatic. Well, I'll not be talkin' ya to death. Jack says some of us are sposed to come in here, ta check on ya, from time to time. So be expectin' plenty more company."
"Thank you, Mr. Gibbs."
"Call me Jos, James."
"Thank you, Jos."
True to his word, Jack sent various crew members in to wake James, then poke and prod at him. One young man, looking quite lost and nervous, (James thought his name might be Conner) came in to tell him a rather dreadful joke about Raleigh and a potato. Once that was done, the man looked relieved, and left quickly. Not long after that, Anamaria brought him a pleasant tasting herbal brew that she ordered him to drink. It gave him a comforting hum in his head and the oddest feeling of floating.
"Ana, they used to burn people for this."
"Still do, last I checked, Navy man."
"I shall tell no one."
Ana's laughter was the most beautiful sound he'd ever seen. It flew apart in all different directions rebounding off the furniture and the deck in brightly colored bouncing balls. That was the last he knew, until Jack came to him. It was night, but he did not know if it were early or late, or even if it were part of the same day.
"Jack."
"Can you sit up for me, James?"
"Yes!"
He found he could not, try as he might.
"No. Sorry."
"That's all right."
Jack's arms were warm and gentle, but so strong. They lifted and maneuvered him. James may have dozed. Next thing he knew, somehow, his head was resting on Jack's shoulder, his arms were more or less around Jack's neck. He buried his nose in Jack's hair. It smelled of sea and sun, sulphur and citrus, cinnamon and honey, wood, mint, maybe, lots of things that James could not name. Part of his mind registered that Jack was unwrapping him like a present tied up with ribbon. He didn't care. Jack had the entire world recorded in the scent of his hair.
Now he was on his stomach on the bed again. Jack was dabbing cold rum on his back, which should have stung, as his mind reminded him. Instead he had a heightened awareness of Jack's fingers, the ones resting against the skin of his shoulder. He was being lifted again. There, there was Jack's hair again. James nuzzled his face in it.
"I want your hair."
Jack laughed and that made James smile. Jack's laughter did not bounce, it tickled James like feathers. Birds instead of balls, perhaps. He was sad he could not see it. Then again, James had his eyes closed. He was being wrapped up again. Perhaps Jack did not care for his package of James.
"Do not wrap me up again, Jack."
"It won't be for long, James."
Jack was turning him, lowering him down onto the bed, tucking covers around him.
"Sleep well."
He may have said something. He may not have. Next he knew, sunlight streamed into the cabin. He did not know if it were morning or afternoon. Jack was gone. James tried to lift himself. Pain shot through his right arm, blinding him for a moment. He was very still on the bed for a while. Eventually he settled for turning onto his left side. In the process, his hair fell across his face. It was braided! He examined a couple of strands. The ends were cleverly tucked back up into the braid to hold it all into place.
By the bed, was a tankard and half a lime. James sat up carefully this time, using his left arm only. He squeezed the lime into his mouth and took a sip from the tankard. James was only a little disappointed to find water in the tankard, instead of Ana's outstanding elixir. He squeezed some lime juice into the water, and ate the rest, rind and all, hoping his stomach, now loudly complaining, would find it somewhat digestible.
James noticed a bucket by the bed, and made use of it. He wondered if he could stand. He did so carefully, using the bed for support. James sent a thankful prayer for the calm weather. James washed what he could easily reach, studied his hair further in Jack's shaving mirror, and explored the cabin a bit. He opened a drawer, and was most delighted to find beautiful leather bound books. The first he thumbed through was Hobbes' Leviathan, of all things. He would have liked sampling all of them. His body felt in need of the bed again, however. Hobbes would have to do. He closed the drawer and slipped the hook in place which secured it during rough seas.
James read a bit, supported on his left elbow, then closed the book, snuggled down and drifted off to sleep again. He awoke when Jack came whistling into the cabin, carrying two bowls of something hot and steaming.
"How does your back feel?"
"Not bad as long as I use my left arm for everything."
"Hungry?"
"Famished."
"This'll put you right. No, don't get up."
Jack set the bowls on the table, and helped James to sit up in bed. He brought the bowls, handed one to James, and sat with him on the edge of the bed. James stirred his peas porridge that smelled delicious, but looked far too hot to start eating.
"You found a book," said Jack stirring his own porridge.
"I hope you don't mind."
"Not at all, James. What did you pick?"
"First one I came to- Hobbes, as it turns out. Not really what I would expect a pirate to read," said Norrington.
"Hate to think what you expect a pirate to read; but I've read that too. Beggars can't be choosers, or pirates, in this case. Now that one, was hoping it would be a tale about a sea monster, what with title, and all. Enjoyed reading it anyway."
"What is this pirate obsession with sea monsters?"
"Good to keep an eye on the competition. Love to have a chat with Tom Hobbes over a few bottles. Find out what he -really- thinks."
"What he really thinks about what?"
"Oh, liberty, politics, pirates, the King."
"I would think it clear what he thinks about those topics."
"That's only what he thought was safe to publish, James."
"You do have a point there. Why did you braid my hair, Jack?"
"You asked me to braid it, James. Not surprised you don't remember. Keep it in a while. Save it from getting all tangled up while you are recovering."
James did remember that conversation, but made no comment. His wanting Jack's hair and finding his own in braids had a tenuous connection, at best. No need for Jack to know that.
"Must have taken you forever."
"No, forever is when I do my own hair. Took me no time at all to do yours."
James doubted that.
"When can I return to light duties, Jack?"
"Bored with poor old Hobbes already? I'll let you know. Tomorrow, maybe."
James doubted that too.
When they finished, Jack took both bowls set them on the table. He perused his books, and put two on the table by the bed. Then Jack picked up the bowls and the bucket.
"Thank you for the meal and the company."
"You are most welcome to both, James. Be in again in a bit to change your bandage."
After Jack left, James picked up the books Jack had picked out for him. One seemed to be a tale about a sea monster. The other was titled, A Ribald Pirate Engages the Duchess. To Norrington's horror, it was almost entirely illustrations. James sighed and took up Hobbes again.
He had read for perhaps half an hour, when Jack said,
"Still reading Hobbes?"
"I didn't hear you come in."
Jack set the bucket down by the bed.
"Sometimes I bang, sometimes I sneak, not much in between. Thought you didn't find Hobbes proper reading for pirates."
"Have you really read, A Ribald Pirate Engages the Duchess?"
"No, but I did look at the pictures. According to Gibbs, it is a series. Poor lass gets engaged by more ruffians than the Spanish Navy. Let's have a look at your back."
"Wash your hands first."
Jack smiled, "Just did, when I was washing out your bucket."
"Wash them again."
"You are worse than an old woman, James."
"Do you want to see my back, or not."
"I don't know. Washing my hands twice- that sounds- like a favor!"
"One I will accept gladly."
Jack washed his hands in the basin.
"I was going to wash them again any way, James. Now, it would seem, you owe me a favor."
"It is safe to say that I will continue to live, even with that knowledge."
Jack helped Norrington to sit up, and removed the old dressing.
"You are coming along nicely, James."
"Then may I have light duties, Captain?"
"Not just yet."
"I get most out of sorts when I am idle."
"I hadn't noticed. I'll give some thought to ordering some light duties for you, James."
"I was led to believe that you were giving some thought to that already."
"Even more thought."
Jack finished cleaning the wound, and wrapped James up with clean bandages. Jack dug through his books again, pulled out one, and set it down next to the bed.
"There's one you might like."
"Thank you for the book and for the favor, Captain," James said not looking up from the blank cover.
"Anything you want, James. You only have to ask."
James studied the plain red cover as though it were the most fascinating thing he had ever seen.
"Fine, don't send anyone else in to tell me potato jokes."
"Told you his only clean one, did he?"
"Clean! You call that clean?"
"Cleaner than the potato, I'd imagine. That's two favors you owe me. Careful James, I just might ask you to return a favor- or two. -But, I'll give you time to recover first. Do enjoy your book."
James looked up in time to see Sparrow's back before he exited. At the last moment, Jack whirled. Jack flashed him an evil smile, which made the corners of James' mouth turn up in response. Then Jack was gone.
James opened the book, an English translation of various Greek love poets. James sighed, and picked up Hobbes' Leviathan again. Though for the longest time, he could not make sense of a single word.
...to be continued...
