Chapter Twenty-two: Return to the Pearl
"God damn'd, I be sooo booorred! Why does'n anythin' ever happen at night?"
Watching the Turners earlier that evening had at least been entertaining, but such amorous escapades are all too brief in comparison to the other seven monotonous hours of slumber. Sometimes it was hardly worth being dead! The ghost floated about the yard, her wraith sight falling upon the sleepless lights at the fort. Perhaps a stealthy visit to the redcoats might 'liven' up the dull hours of the night; however, a closer glare at the garrison in the distance changed her mind.
The fort was outside her boundaries…
The distance to which Kristy could wander from Maren fluctuated from day to day, depending on such spontaneous issues as Maren's general health, her menstruation, and her emotional state. More otherworldly factors included the age and location of nearby haunts (graveyards usually tied Kristy pretty close to her medium), for some reason, the phases of the moon and tides (which was the only attribute Maren considered even semi-mystical), and how close the anniversary of Kristy's murder was. Some days she could mosey as far as a mile, once she almost managed two and that was a record; other days she was restricted to the same building and that was still a fair share better then the early days, when Maren was a small child Kristy couldn't leave the same room! Whether a mile or a front door, the boundary always occurred in the same way…
The fog seeped through, before her that dingy room, a step away, a terrible step away, waiting in infinite patience.
Her haunting place.
In a way, that cheap flat in the wastelands of London's lower east was always just a step away. In Kristy's world there was no such thing as distance, only the perception of distance. At anytime, she could return, all she'd have to do was walk straight through that fog, God forbid she'd ever have too. And luckily, it would be just as simple for Maren to call her back, their bond was strong enough and so was Maren.
The black night sky was blotching over to grey and soon the sun would rise in a plethora of orange and pink. People would be awakening soon, especially since today the Black Pearl was due to depart with Will's new armament of swords. Deciding Maren should be up early anyway, Kristy strode into the house to rouse her.
She glided up the stairs, debating briefly on checking out Jack's room in hopes of spying a naked sleeping pirate again, but decided there would be plenty of occasions to gawk at buff Jack on the upcoming journey. To Maren's room first and pray she rises in a better mood then when she went to sleep!
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"Cunny-lickin', donkey-romper!"
Out of all the more precarious ways to awaken, the banshee-like wailing of a hysterically cursing ghost is by far one of the most unpleasant.
"Why I be bugger'd by a dog, by a motherfuckin' dog!"
Startled, Maren shot up in bed, displacing Jack from snoozing on her shoulder, and turned wide surprised eyes to Kristy who was performing an enthusiastic jig about the room, all the while screaming to high heaven and back, "Ye did it, Pet! By the milk from me own mum's tit, ye soddin' did it! So sayeth the bitch o' a slut nun, 'Praise King Jesus!'"
Jack in turn was startled by Maren's sudden jump and he too bolted forward, darting bleary glares about the room in alarmed confusion, "Mmm 'wake, I'm awake!"
"Up the arse and down the throat, me gel, devil's cock be damn'd!"
"What is it?" his body visibly tensing, Jack watched Maren's blank face carefully.
"Did ye, Pet! Did 'it' happen!" and Kristy finally quieted down to waggle her brows rather suggestively, "Ye know, the good ooole 'quinny-quencher'? And be it so, how many?"
"For the love o'-," Maren slid her a hand over her groggy features and shook her head, "Nothin, it's nothin'. Just one hell o' a wake up call from a hauntin' whore two shakes from an exorcism if she do'n clam up already!"
"PET GOT LAID!
GOT LAID, GOT LAID!
PET GOT LAID!
HALLELUJAH!"
But the ghost was far too jubilant to be assuaged by idle threats, as she sang a very liberal version of the "Messiah" at the top of her apparitional lungs.
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Great splashes of mango and burgundy colored the sky as the Caribbean sun birthed the horizon, illuminating the clear water on a white beach. And upon its shore, a curious collection of sweating pirates fiddling with cargo and longboats, two lovely women talking excitedly in hushed tones, and two men surveying the early morning scene, one happier then usual, insanely, insatiably, and obnoxiously happy.
The whistling was starting to affect Will's nerves.
Yes, he could stand the smirks, the snickers, and the telltale smile. The inflated presence, the endless strutting, and exaggerated felicity might very well be considered charming, if not for the early morning hour. And admittedly, the blatant innuendoes and the flashy way in which Jack flamboyantly adjusted his collar to show off a rusty love-bite at the base of his proud throat were comedic in their own way, even though Will decided to deliberately play the gentlemen and pretend he hadn't a clue what Jack was on about. Unfortunately, Jack took Will's polite discount as an intolerable ignorance to the important message Jack was subtlety attempting to display and started to nudge him hard enough to bruise, pointedly winking and nodding towards Maren. Apparently, Jack had never held either Will's intelligence or perception in high regard. Still, all this could be tolerated by the blacksmith's quiet patience; however, that piercing, deliberately cheerful, teeth-grinding whistle was too much for any man's fortitude to take.
"All right then!" Will exploded, startling both the band of pirates loading the swords into the final rowboat and the pair of whispering women, Maren and Elizabeth, down the beach, but Jack, the very subject of the explosion remained happily impassive to Will's sudden outburst as if expecting it. "I get it, already! You got laid, Jack, ye got damn well lucky! Are you happy? Point taken, point noted, point made! The whole world knows! So for the love of God and all that is holy-stop-that-whistling!" A loose curl fell from the young man's tie and hung mockingly in his face, causing him to pause and abruptly blow it away with righteous indignation.
Gasping, Maren cast an accusing glare at Jack from afar.
"Did'n say a word, luv," he held out his arms in defense and shouted with total disregard for discretion, technically faultless, "Littl' William has the most uncanny powers o' perception, spooky really. Wonder if ye two be relat'd?" He itched his chin in mock contemplation.
The medium snorted, purposely turning her back to him and praying that somehow Will's outburst went unnoticed by the men at work securing the wares to the longboat. No such luck. Immediately, rodent like snickers made her ears burn and some of those dirty scoundrels actually started to applaud Jack, who encouraged those ruffians by bowing!
"Ignore them," Elizabeth rolled her eyes and tactfully adjusted the shawl she had lent Maren to cover Jack's nipping mark atop her cleavage, "Men are like dogs, they must instinctively mark their territory."
"Bet Will's not like that," huffing, Maren fumed as the pirates cheered and egged Jack on behind her.
"You would be surprised," vaguely, Elizabeth responded, staring off at the rolling waves with a dazed expression of sheer satisfaction.
"And ye'd be surpris'd, how we be not all that surpris'd," Kristy added matter of fact, insinuating all that they had spied in the smithy.
"May I ask you something, Maren?" shaking off her daydream and darting careful glances about them, Elizabeth leaned closer to Maren, her whisper fraught with suspenseful curiosity, "Was Jack, oh my, I cannot believe I'm asking this! Was he gentle?"
They exchanged blank looks and wide eyes, before bright smiles and merry giggles broke the embarrassment. Immediately, they shushed each other like school girls and glimpsed nervously behind them to check on husband and pirate who stood at a discreet distance, attempting to appear innocent and smiled, waving. Elizabeth quickly took Maren's hand and they skipped further along the shoreline, skirts kicked up in the wind and cheeks red, snickering all the way until they were breathless from the short frolic and the laughter.
Upon reaching a modest location away from Jack's sharp ears, Maren stopped them, unable to hold back her enthusiasm anymore and burst out, "Oh, it be the most wondrous experience o' me life thus far, and believe ye me, that's really sayin' somethin', that 'tis!" They clasped hands tightly as Maren shared her blushing 'secret', "He start'd out gentle, o' well, a gentleness o' sorts I should say," modesty forced her to bite her lip, in suitable bashfulness, "But then! Oh but then, he suddenly 'came kind o' rough on me, only, I did'n mind it like I reckon'd I would. Nay, in fact I kind o'...I sort o'-."
"Liked it?" Elizabeth supplied.
"Lov'd it!" Maren exploded.
Kristy literally began jumping in place, "Ooo! Pet, tell her 'bouts the dirty talk! Tell her 'bouts how he fancies the dirty talk!"
"And did he-?" attempting to prompt her meaning, Elizabeth gestured vaguely at her, "Oh dear God, how do I say? Did he...take care of you?" She winked and raised one arched eyebrow.
Not immediately did Maren answer, instead she looked oddly perplexed.
A short snigger and Elizabeth tried again, "Come on, you know, did you have one?"
"One what?" a slight ebb of panic and confusion lined Maren's naive voice.
Any playfulness in Elizabeth vanished. Uh-oh, jesting about good sex was one thing, but teasing about bad sex was quite another. Suddenly, Elizabeth laid a gentle hand on Maren's shoulder, pity written all over her face, "Are you saying, you didn't...climax?" She grimaced how the word sounded so formal and technical coming from her mouth. Only she could make sex sound so medical.
"Climax? I-I do'n understand..."
Sweet Jesus, were those actual tears in Maren's bewildered eyes? The poor thing, Elizabeth was swept over by guilt, thinking she had embarrassed the innocent girl, but then she noticed how said 'innocent girl' was biting her lip, shaking with silent laughter, and turning red from holding her breath.
"Why you!" Elizabeth attacked her with pinches, while Maren roared with suppressed guffaws, "You lying hussy! I truly believed you hadn't the faintest clue what I was talking about!"
A particular vicious poke forced Maren to squeal loudly and retreat back along the beach, never halting her teasing laughter. "By the way," she called back as Elizabeth gave chase, "In answer to yer inquiry, I did'n just have one," three gloating fingers were procured proudly while she ran, stumbling backwards, "Had meself three o' them climaxes," she mimicked Elizabeth's prim and stringent voice.
"Oh sure," Elizabeth hoisted her skirts higher in order to sprint after the medium faster, "And now I'm supposed to believe you!" But in all honesty, knowing Jack Sparrow or at least what she had heard about his amorous escapades, Elizabeth did believe it!
Meanwhile, Jack and Will indulged in their own private gossip, still atop the sand dune above the rowboats. Coincidently, the pirate captain was presenting three ringed fingers to Will, "Three times, mate, I mean, it's certainly not like me to brag-," here Will rolled his brown eyes heavenward but stayed his witty retort, "but three be such an impressive figure in all modesty, good sturdy number, three–watch them knots, ye lazy ravenous dogs! I'll not be havin' me armaments strewn 'bout the ocean floor!" Jack barked at the crew members below, before tilting his head to the side and muttering into Will's ear, "However, there does exist the slightest tinge of remorse in me otherwise good continence...I've absolutely ruin'd her future sexual exploits." The familiar crease crossed Will's brow as he frowned at Jack, so the pirate furthered, "After all, she's probably under the distorted representation that all sex is in essence, incredible, it bein' her very first time and all." A genuinely shocked choke sounded as the blacksmith blinked at Jack, "What a nasty surprise it shall be, when one day some clumsily, inept sod shall prove her wrong."
"Wait a moment Jack, are you trying to tell me that that," gesturing an exaggerated hourglass of a figure, clearly meant to represent the vigorous curves of Maren's form, Will asked, incredulous, "was a virgin?"
"Aye," Jack smirked, his gold teeth flashing, "'twas a virtual crime for her to remain in such a sorry state, to be sure."
"A virgin in Tortuga?"
"Bloody miracle, I know."
Will cast a thoughtful, sidelong look at him, "Tread carefully, Captain, perhaps Maren is not so casual in her affections as others. Do you truly know what you may be getting yourself into?"
Screeching laughter rose over the hush of the waves and Maren came suddenly into view, followed close by Elizabeth. There was a mighty shriek as Elizabeth pounced, wrapping her graceful arms around the medium's corseted waist and they spun about in dizzying circles, tickling each other without mercy. "Jesus Holy Christ," Jack gasped and Will gawked at the entwined sirens dancing about in play, utterly breathtaking, "Now that's a sight that'll haunt me dreams for many a long nights to come."
Will attempted to respond, but what can only be accurately described as an overwhelmed whimper fell from his gaping lips.
"I'll second that," watching with perverted interest, Jack very nearly swallowed his own tongue when Maren, having succeeded in pinning Elizabeth's arms behind her back, smacked a friendly kiss upon her cheek, before releasing her to sprint away again. "Mother have mercy," he wiped invisible drool from his mouth, "how ye fancy forcin' yer way into that particularly pleasurable brawl, eh?"
Finally, Will recovered his voice, "That is my wife you're referring to," but upon receiving Jack's patented stare, he begrudgingly broke down, "and yes, I would fancy-nay, I would desire nothing more then the wondrous opportunity to press myself between those two pillars of feminine grace before us and relish in divine beauty until the day I merrily perish, thank you very much!"
"Ye do'n have to get all 'poetic' on me," tsk-ing, Jack rolled his eyes, "a simple 'I'd fuck 'em wild,' would've sufficed."
Will huffed, "I really don't think you know what you're getting yourself into at all."
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So they left Port Royal.
Two distant figures waved from the beach while two figures in the retreating rowboat waved back, more watery distant falling between them.
"He looks like his father," Jack spoke softly, only Maren who was seated beside him could hear, "more and more, every day."
She studied his distant expression, before treading carefully, "I know what ye said 'bouts dead peoples 'round ye, stayin' dead and all." His face remained turned to the shore, but Jack's kohl eyes fell on her with vague suspicion, so she hurried her explanation, "But I figures ye should know, at least, that Bootstrap Bill- he is'n hauntin'. He's not trapp'd like Barbossa is." Unconsciously, she paused for Jack's reaction, but all Maren received was silence and that unreadable stare, "Please do'n be mad at me, but I check'd through Will while he was sleepin'. I could'n help it, I saw what they-what they...did to Bill and I jus-I just had to make sure he was'n still sufferin', is all."
"And?" Jack said quietly, his face blank.
"And," Maren continued, "Bill rests. He's safe now, he's happy, it's finally over for him."
"Did ye speak with him?"
"No, only check'd," she repeated, " to make sure."
They sat together in quiet repose for many long moments, the splash of the oars lapping at the water and grunting conversations of the rowing pirates behind them filling the void. Finally, Jack raised his calloused hand to Maren's cheek and ran the pad of his thumb over her lip, "Thank ye."
The honest gratitude, seemingly so uncharacteristic in Jack, embarrassed Maren and her face flushed, turning away. However, that blush was a fetish that Jack simply couldn't pass up and he laid one hand, fingers splayed, on her knee, inching upwards over curvy thighs, "I really should warn ye, Maren-me-dove." Before those nimble digits could reach the juncture of her thighs, Maren abruptly halted their progression by grabbing Jack's wrist and glaring at him. "Life at sea 'taint all swashbucklin' and pillagin'. Nay, sometimes when the wind be dead and the tide be slow, the days seem like they stretch on forever and the nights become eternities."
Cocking his head, Jack leaned in close to Maren's ear and whispered hotly, tangled hair falling into a curtain around his face, "But ifen an amicable, young barmaid was awaitin' in me nice, big bed with bottle o' rum at ready and legs spread, well, that should cure any cabin fever in two licks." Maren didn't even possess the frame of mind to comment on Jack's terrible pun; instead, her breath turned shaky and she unconsciously wet her lips. The hand that held Jack's wrist went limp, allowing the pirate to caress her inner thigh once more, "Such fun we'll have, Maren. Why think o' all the games we can play." An erotically wet tongue traced the shell of Maren's ear and she was utterly helpless against the whimper that escaped her mouth, though she belatedly attempted to cover the noise with her hand, but too late, the suddenly interested pirates rowing the longboat had stopped their chatter and listened nonchalantly to the hushed conversation. Jack ignored them, leaning back with legs crossed at the ankles, body reclined, and elbows propped up on the hub of the rowboat. "Sweetheart, I'm goin' to teach ye everythin' I know."
"Reckon I could be teachin' ye a thin' o' two Sparrow-," Kristy had every intention of detailing exactly what those degenerate lessons might be, but quickly fell silent. Someone was watching her. Now to a laymen, the vague burn of someone's stare is easily overlooked or ignored as easily dismissed as a change in the wind. However to a ghost not used to being seen by anyone, save Maren of course, being watched was not only a novelty, but also a noticeable event. Hurriedly and somewhat paranoid, Kristy spun about, scanning for the watcher. Still there was only the living men in the boat and a stretch of clear water to an empty shore, no other haunts in sight. Just when she was about to disregard the whole event, Kristy instinctively glanced up.
The rowboat was finally upon the ship and right above her upturned head, gazing sightlessly, was the figurehead of the Black Pearl, perfectly posed with sparrow in hand. Kristy glared at it as they steered around the hull of the ship. It remained steadfastly inanimate, so lifeless, so wooden. Perhaps she had imagined it...
...holy shit, it moved! It moved!
It was only a flinch, only the slightest of shifts, but Kristy was positive she saw it! The heavy lids of those shawdowless eyes had fallen barely a breath, but fall they did, as if to return Kristy's glare. Now whether the figurehead moved on a physical or supernatural level, Kristy couldn't say for sure, yet she had the sinking feeling no one else but her would've acknowledged seeing the impossible.
Admittedly, the boat was sentient on some level, Kristy had sensed that her first time boarding the Black Pearl. Many places, usually structures such as houses, prisons, or churches were left with some sort of queer impression that given many years of death and birth might manifest into a more innate perception. Still, by no stretch of the imagination could these places ever be considered 'thinking' or 'feeling' beings. The Pearl was proving to be different and difficult. Perhaps Kristy could've dismissed the 'watching' as she had done before when she first boarded the Pearl, but no amount of delusion could hide the fact that the figurehead had undeniably moved.
"Either ye be rubbin' off on this bloody boat, Pet," she addressed Maren who would have rather continued staring at Jack's mischievous tongue swiping teasingly along his chapped lips then listen to the silly paranoia of her resident ghost, "O' that Aztec curse did." The figurehead remained frozen under Kristy's scrutiny, until the dead whore's temper snapped, "Ye buck-tooth'd bitch! What the fuck ye ganderin' at, eh! Got a problem? Want one!"
Jack noticed that Maren's attention was no longer on him, an intolerable act in itself, but hovering somewhere over the rowboat. Her face was scrunched in bewildered confusion with a sprinkle of uncertainty. "What? What is it?" he glanced about, having a medium about surely made for some intensely odd moments.
"I think me ghost's pickin' a fight with yer ship," dumbfounded, she replied.
He paused for a moment and genuinely contemplated this new information. "Who's winnin' then?" he chuckled.
Finding the humor in the situation as uncanny as Jack did, Maren laughed too, "Well she's still just pissin' in the breeze, but ifen it comes to a brawl, I'll wager two crowns on me Kristy o'er yer Pearl."
"Sounds like a fine gamble to me. Let it be two crowns on the Pearl then."
"Jack?"
"Aye Maren, me sweet."
"Can I borrows two crowns?"
Jack laughed even louder, waggling a clever finger at her as the other hand clasped onto the rope ladder that was tossed down, "Spoken like a true professional gambler!" With no ceremony, Jack hoisted himself up the ropes, leaving Maren a tad affronted. Wouldn't a proper gentleman have offered her the ladder first and aided in her ascent? 'Pirate,' she answered her own daft question, then addressed Kristy over her shoulder, 'Ye comin' o' be there some plank ye fancy chewin' out first?'
Her wraith arms crossed in bad temper and sitting stubbornly in the longboat, Kristy yelled back, "Soddin' boats should not be 'thinkin' period, so says I!"
'Aye, too right, Kristy,' rolling her eyes and stating in an overly sarcastic drawl, Maren adjusted her skirts and proceeded to climb the rope ladder, 'Ye tell 'em, set those boaty buggers straight. Boats do'n think.'
...the tiniest of winds whispered over the sails to caress the sea and upon this sprite of breath came the inconceivable feeling...
"...what...are...you..."
But neither the floating spirit or climbing medium heard this manifestation as they ascended to the top deck, of course that is only if there truly was anything to hear...
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"Aye, but we're loved by
Our mummies and dads,
Drink up me hearties, yo ho!"
"Elizabeth," Will semi-groaned and pouted, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing plump lips to her neck, "Not that song again. It's bad enough you taught it to Jack."
Missus Turner stopped her singing, but kept up a thrumming hum.
In the distant horizon, the Black Pearl was fading from sight, dark sails shining like a forbidden jewel amidst a satin pillow of blue. Long they watched on the beach, Will and Elizabeth, hypnotized by the spell the Pearl cast on so many, whispering her great promises of adventures and freedom. And even if one could resist her wiles, she still managed to sail away with a stolen dream so secret and buried you wouldn't even know it was there until you saw her sailing away with it, leaving only a melancholy yearning in her wake.
But she always left you feeling more alive then ever before, almost as if she spoke aloud, 'I've won, I've won!'
The crease in his handsome brow formed again as a problem arose in Will's thoughts. "Elizabeth," he said again, slightly worried, "What exactly should we tell Commodore Norrington about Maren's sudden departure from us?"
Gradually, Elizabeth stopped humming and appeared very thoughtful, "I suppose we could tell him she's pregnant."
The urge to laugh was so forceful, Will actually chocked on his own spit.
