All of these stories were, of course, completely true.
In fact, when it came to Captain Jack Sparrow, the only thing that everyone could agree on was that the man was unpredictable. Some claimed he'd been driven mad by heat and starvation, others said it was simply the way he had always been, while still others proposed that it was all an act, designed to throw his enemies off-guard. But whatever the reason, he seemed to live his entire life on a whim, changing his mind and his course so often that even he didn't seem to know what he was up to at times.
And so it was that William Turner, captain of the Inspiration, found himself wandering the streets of Porto Bello on a rainy summer night, not two days after his ship had been taken over by pirates. Jack had come sweeping into the brig some number of hours after his first visit, proclaiming, "I've changed me mind, lad. The navy's on our tail, and we've got no time to be dealin' with your boat here. The boys will be down shortly to return you to your humble vessel." And that was the last Will had seen of the pirate.
Thankfully, the cargo was mostly untouched. The Inspiration had been hauling textiles sent over from the continent, and Will was relieved to find that only two bolts of wool had gone missing. They had been near the front of the load, and the more valuable bolts near the back of the hold hadn't been touched--apparently pirates weren't terribly interested in fine fabrics. A few choice barrels from the food stores had also disappeared, but all in all, the ship was in excellent condition, considering it had been comandeered by pirates. It had seemed strange to Will, until Jeffries had pointed out that if they had been planning on taking the ship like Jack had said, it wouldn't make sense to move everything over to the Pearl.
As for the crew, they had taken the whole thing surprisingly well. Most of them seemed to be too ashamed of letting a little ale get their guard down to harbor any ill will toward their captain for trusting Jack. When they sailed into port, not a single one signed off, much to Will's relief, and even Jeffries was mostly understanding. "I don't blame you," he had said, "but I hope you use more caution in the future. You may value your friendships highly, as an honorable man should, but some people are willing to use them any way they can just to get ahead." Will felt more like he was being lectured by a parent than advised by his first mate, and even Elizabeth joined in, suggesting that he take some time off away from the ship to clear his head while she dealt with the angry Porto Bello merchant whose shipment was a day late. His wife was better at such things than he was anyway, so he grudgingly agreed.
The problem was, Porto Bello wasn't the best place for a down-on-his luck captain to forget his troubles. Sure, there were taverns and whores, but there weren't many of the former, and Will had little interest in the latter. The whole city closed down far too early, so just as Will was beginning to identify as "pleasantly drunk", he found himself out on the street in the rain with nothing to drink and nothing to do. Since he didn't feel like returning to the ship just yet, he walked. Summer rains, after all, were just right for brooding--the wetness was great for miserable self-pity, without being cold enough to actually be uncomfortable.
After an hour or so of wandering randomly through the streets, Will was beginning to feel like himself again. With dawn still a couple hours away, he made his way slowly back towards the harbor, making plans to sign on a few more crew members in the morning. He was nearly there when he caught a glimpse of something white out of the corner of his eye. He turned to get a closer look, and his mouth dropped open--it was a girl in a white dress, on the roof of a building, struggling against two captors who seemed about to toss her over the edge. Looking down, he saw that they were about to toss her over, into the arms of a ragged-looking man standing on the street. Will's hand immediately flew to the hilt of his sword, and he charged into the alleyway with a yell. The man in the alley glanced at him briefly, but the girl had already been thrown down to him, and he caught her, staggering backwards under the weight. Without a pause, he set her on her feet, nodded to the men up top, and took off running, the girl being dragged roughly behind him. The men on the roof disappeared from Will's sight, and he followed the man on the ground--saving the girl mattered more than bringing two thugs to justice, and he could at least see where the man on the ground had gone.
The white dress made them easy to follow, even in the dark and the rain. Will's footsteps rang out on the pavement, kicking up water with every stride as he chased down his prey; they were heading toward the harbor, which was the one part of the city that Will knew like the back of his own hand. He wasn't the strongest runner, but if they were in this part of town, he knew he'd be able to catch them. They turned erratically, twisting down passageways and alleys with no planning or reason, the girl's white dress fluttering as she was pulled along. She stumbled often, slowing them down considerably, and as her attacker took a right turn, Will grinned in satisfaction and ran straight ahead--the road they were on curved around to meet itself; victory was at hand. He willed his tired legs to pump a little faster, rounded the corner...
...and slammed right into the man he was trying to catch at full speed. Various limbs collided painfully with various bits of his body, and both men fell backwards, landing with a splash on the pavement. Both men scrambled to their feet, Will having an easier time of it as the other man struggled with his captive, but realizing once he was standing that his sword had fallen from his hand in the crash. He retreived it in an instant and whirled around to find himself, for the second time in three days, face-to-face with Captain Jack Sparrow. Will began spluttering helplessly, completely lost for words.
The pirate's dark-rimmed eyes went wide for a split second, then he shook his head and took a more serious expression. "We've got to stop meetin' up like this, mate," he said, his voice weary. The girl behind him looked desperately at Will, eyes silently pleading for rescue as Jack tightened his grip on her wrist.
"Jack!" Will finally managed before his mind stopped giving him words to work with again. As an afterthought, he raised his sword to Jack's throat, letting his actions speak for him for the moment.
Jack glanced at the sword as if it were nothing but a child's toy. "You might want to put that away, lad."
"Oh, really?" Will said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He shifted his stance to something a little more solid and raised his blade slightly. "Why, exactly, would I want to do that? It looks like I've got you right where I want you."
"Because," Jack explained patiently, "the fine young men of the local constabulary are right on our tails and carrying loaded firearms, and they're looking for more than one armed and dangerous man. And by some strange mind-boggling coincidence, one of my accomplices is dressed exactly like you." He paused, and Will heard the sounds of several pairs of feet approaching at a run. Jack cocked his head. "Savvy?"
Will nodded dumbly and sheathed his sword. Rage had built up in him so much that now he was completely numb, and his mind went completely blank as he did what Jack said. Just as his arms fell limply to his sides, Jack spun on his heel, dragging the girl forward and pushing her at Will. Startled, he reached up to catch her, and found his hands on her shoulders as three uniformed men appeared and pointed muskets at the group.
"Thank God you're here!" Jack shouted to the confused newcomers. "Now you can help me talk some sense into the girl!"
Will blinked. "What?"
Turning, Jack wagged a finger at Will. "Now, don't you get indignant with me! Gallavanting around with my daughter at all hours of the night--do you have any idea what the neighbors are saying about us because of you?" The three officers looked at each other uncomfortably, and Jack continued. "I don't care how much you think you love him, Constanza--I'll not have you associating with his type while you're under my roof! Now come on home, girl, your mother is worried sick!"
Jack stepped toward Will and the girl, reaching for her wrist again. The realization of what was going on dawned on her, and her face suddenly twisted in horrified panic. "No!" she cried out, shrinking back from the pirate's touch.
"Oh, is that your decision, then?" Jack seemed to calm, and his voice was sorrowful as he said, "think it over a bit. Please."
One of the officers cleared his throat. "I think, perhaps, that we should stay out of this, sir." They lowered their weapons, and with a nod from the higher-ranking of the three, they turned and disappeared into the night. The girl's eyes widened in terror, and she opened her mouth to scream, but Jack clamped his hand over her mouth before any sound escaped. He raised his finger to his lips to shush her and winked at the slack-jawed Will.
"I believe," he said quietly, "this is the part where you demand that I explain myself before you run me through. However, as you seem to be a bit indisposed at the moment, I suggest we make haste to your ship before those fine young men realize they've been had. Once aboard and well away from this lovely port, I'll be more than happy to explain everything."
Will, shocked and confused, couldn't find it in himself to do anything but agree.