Chapter 33: Shame
Pain throbbed steadily against my skull, pulsing in sync with my heart and making my head feel overwhelmed with pressure. There was a pungent stench that hung about the air and the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes wearily was a pot full of my spittle. Oh no. Currently, a piece of dribble still hung from my mouth and at smelling the vomit I had excreted, I began to taste the last retching and I grimaced with disgust.
I was rolled onto my stomach, my head hanging over the side of my bed directly over the basin. Oh no. As I moved my eyes around to get a good look at my surroundings, the pressure in my head felt as if it were crushing my eyes and I swayed with dizziness and vomited again into the pot, the sound apparently drawing my maid into the room with a very sorry face. "Awake now, Miss?" she asked, not in the least bit kind. I had done something terrible if even Maggie was acting horrible to me.
"What happ—" I was interrupted again with the urge to regurgitate what I had eaten and drunken last night and more of it came out in a rather nauseating splatter.
"You honestly want to hear what you did last night, Miss?" continued Maggie, grabbing my dripping face and wiping my mouth with a cloth harshly. I nodded weakly, feeling too sick to speak anymore. "Well, you can have the testimony of your parents, brother and suitor, right now." Oh no. She turned around and stormed out of the room to retrieve the said witnesses and I fell back onto my pillows in an agonizing moan. What have I done now that has even thrown my maid into a rage?
Instead of hearing several footsteps march down the hallway, I only heard one pair. I was hoping it wouldn't be Adam because I was in an indecent state as it was, dressed in my nightgown and smelling of vomit, but my assumptions were never correct and Adam indeed came in, his face so stern and angry that I probably would have been better off if I died right then and there. "Do you have anything to say for yourself?" he began, walking up to my bed, grabbing the chair before my vanity and plunking himself very angrily into the seat.
"I don't even know what I did," I replied, and he only burned all the more.
"Would you like to hear what you did then?" he answered gruffly.
"No, if it will only make you angrier," I said, unaware that my tone was less than agreeing. His face twitched and his jaw became dreadfully taut.
"It won't. I'm already the angriest I have ever been in my life, Astrid. All because of you." By his calm and composed state, I questioned whether or not he was even at all extremely angry, but his cold voice clearly proved my assumption incorrect, as always.
"Then spit it out. If you are so furious then yell at me and tell me the crime I have committed!" I shouted, for some odd reason very irritated. I crossed my arms over my chest and frowned at him, but he was hardly moved with my own outburst of annoyance.
"Very well," he began, getting up from his seat and pacing about my room. "When I entered the celebration again after spending time alone because of the hurtful confession you gave to me, I found you quite occupied with other men."
"Other men?" I echoed in slight disbelief. "I do not recall being so awfully occupied with men to not have noticed when you came in again." Adam shot me a look and I quieted my useless protest.
"If you would but let me continue," he growled. I easily granted his wish with a haughty wave of my hand. I was indeed very irritable that day for some reason. "As I was saying, I saw you quite engaged with other men and therefore did not make any attempt to intrude. After all, it is the sea you want, not me." I only sighed and sank further into my pillows. Did he really think of me so negatively now? "Well, while I observed you and the men gathering around you, I noticed a trend. They'd all ask you to dance with them, and you happily agreed having recovered from a great deal of humiliation which Roland later informed me of. Then afterwards, when you were so famished and in need of refreshment from the numerous dances you took part in, these lads would offer you glass after glass of drink. Do you remember those delightful and cool reviving beverages they beckoned you to swallow?" I looked up, bothered by his sheer mockery. It was clear that he was trying to make a point that would make me cry for forgiveness.
"No," I murmured.
"I wonder why," he scorned. "Could it possibly be the fact that you willingly drank down several glasses full of alcoholic concoctions?"
"Alcohol?" I repeated again. His nose only flared and he gripped the wooden board at the end of my bed with white knuckles.
"Did you have any idea of what they were trying to accomplish, Astrid?" he roared. "Are you so gullible that you could say to each man holding a mint julep in his hands 'Oh, another wonderful drink? How sweet of you,' and then chug the lot of it down? HOW CREDULOUS CAN YOU BE!"
"I never knew it was an alcoholic drink!" I fought back, knowing very well I'd fail. "What was I suppose to do?"
"You could have at least asked them what the hell they were giving you! For God's sake, don't tell me you automatically assumed that every man offering you a drink had good intentions on their minds! It was obvious they didn't! All they wanted was to get you drunk so that they could have their fun with you afterwards!" I burned like a freshly started fire. The flame would only spread, and spread it did across my sorry face. Was that what I had done last night? Had I allowed for several men to get me drunk as a bastard and therefore prove myself as the town idiot? Yes, Astrid, you did. Otherwise, Adam would not be so angry.
"Adam, I—" He cut me off. Apparently, my voice was enough to set him into rage.
"And what makes it better is that you had become so drunk, more drunk than Griffith was at that time, that when he saw you making a fool of yourself, he couldn't help but make you more of a disgrace!"
"What did he do?" I asked timidly.
"What did he do? Oh no, Astrid. He did nothing. It was you, who made the fool of yourself."
"Then what did I do? Tell me so it will be done with and I can weep for the rest of my life."
"Fine! Here it is in straight, clean and simple English that even you may understand." That was like a stake driven directly into my heart and my eyes welled with water, even though my head still spun and I was aching all over. Now Adam had to say I was the stupidest person he'd ever met, which without a doubt was most definitely true. "You... ended… up… kissing… publicly… with… Griffith… in… front… of… the… entire… guest… population!" He rattled the wooden board at the end of my bed furiously, and I only buried my face in my pillows. I didn't dare to look at him again after being smacked in the face with what I had done. Astrid, you bloody little whore! What were you thinking, getting drunk and allowing yourself to be completely seduced by a mongrel like Griffith? You betrayed your Adam, your family, everyone. Miss Smith is right. I am a disgrace. I am a filthy prostitute.
While I heaved and spit sob after sob into my pillow, letting my nose and eyes run dry, Adam stomped about in my room, still talking to me. "I've had enough of this, Astrid," he said. "It is too much of a burden for me and I've done my best to handle and solve the predicament, but it seems as though you always fail to listen."
"I-I-I-I'm s-s-s-soooree—ee—eee!" I stuttered, trying to speak through my crumbling lungs.
"How many times have you said that, Astrid? And every time you have said you are sorry, I have believed you, but you ended up deceiving me again and again! I'm not accepting your apologies anymore. I won't."
"A-Ad-d-dam," I started, looking at him through my stinging eyes.
"No, Astrid. I'm sorry. Perhaps you are too wild for me. You are too free-spirited and independent. You are something I am not accustomed to, especially considering the fact that I was raised with a strict and very proper mother. She warned me of you and she was right."
"But I love you!" I screamed. He only shook his head.
"No, you don't. If you did I would not have to tell you that I witnessed your own cheating heart right before my eyes. And to even think that you'd lock lips with a bastard like Griffith sends another knife into my back. I'm not going to continue. I'm not."
"But I didn't know! How can you hate me for something that I had no control over?"
"YOU DID HAVE CONTROL OVER IT, ASTRID!" he bellowed. "You should be ashamed! Look at what you've done! You dishonored your family, your governess, me. You shamed your own self when you resorted to wicked infidelity. It is your fault. I warned you but you don't care about me enough to heed what I say." He paused, and looked at me, his face, for once, sharing the same ache that mine had been shedding since he stepped in my room. "I loved you, Astrid. I really did. I loved you very much. Perhaps too much to ever make life too difficult for you."
"But, Adam—"
"No!" he exclaimed. "I have reached a decision, Astrid. I will not see you any longer. Our courtship has ended. I gave you every opportunity to prove yourself loyal and you sabotaged them all. I guess I was too ignorant a boy to believe you'd make a good partner for the rest of my life. I'm sorry, Astrid." He turned around, making sure his hat was securely on his head. His face was looking at the exit. Don't leave, Adam. Don't walk through that door and leave me behind.
"Please, Adam. Don't…" He shifted his gaze back to me, his countenance less rigid from his anger and more weighed down with possible regret or sadness. Quickly, he approached the side of my bed and looked down at me in my pitiful state. For a second, I thought I saw the past dear affection he had for me glimmer in his eyes, but it was gone too soon.
"Good bye, Astrid," he whispered, bending down and pressing his lips against my own. I shivered as my memories of him rushed into remembrance and was forcing streams to flow from my eyes. He found my hand and gave it a squeeze before promptly exiting my room. I'll never say good bye to you, Adam. You will never leave my life or my memory for as long as I live.
At his leave, I buried my face into my pillows, sobbing hysterically again. My head still throbbed and my body was still weary and sore, but any physical pain was swiftly overcome with the emotional pain I held inside my brittle beating heart; pain that came from the words of the one man I truly loved who came by only to tell me he did not love me anymore.
My grieving was suppressed with the need to sleep, and with tears still fresh on my face, I drifted off into unpleasant dreams. All I could think about was Adam and what I had done. Now the whole town would know who Astrid Turner really was; an immoral whore with no virtue or anything significant but her pretty face. From the way I looked at it, I was positively ugly for what I had done. Never anything to treasure. If I ever wound up in the arms of some fine, rich man, then he would have inherited a loss, for behind my pretty face was nothing more but hot air and silly flights of imagination.
While my head was swallowed in sweat, heat and thumping torture, my mind had drifted off into a world where I knew Jack, and Jack knew me, and the sea was my home. The only problem was, he didn't see me again. I spotted him standing on the shore, his ship not far by, and he looked straight into the horizon, his eyes squinting in the sun. I was dressed as a lady, trapped in fluffy elegance and glamour that a mere pirate was unworthy of laying his eyes on, but I approached him anyway, still remembering what he had said to me last time. "Captain Sparrow?" I squeaked. His head turned to the side abruptly, a dazed look on his face and his brows raised in amusement and surprise.
"Look at you, love," he chuckled. "Lookin' like you's the Queen of England herself." I smiled, but for some reason, my face was still wet from crying. It seemed as though I hadn't recovered from my argument with Adam.
"I'm not," I said. "I'm not a fine lady either. I'm just a stupid, day dreamy girl who has no morals and runs wild like a stray dog." I paused, plopping myself on the sand and facing the horizon with a twisting face as I wrung my eyes out. "I'm nothing, Jack. Nothing."
"What makes ya think that, Astrid?" he said, sitting down beside me and giving me a few good shakes on the shoulders.
"I lost the man I love and I dishonored my family. They have done so much for me and I thank them by giving a bad name to our family." Jack twitched his face a bit, and looked away from me, focusing on the unreachable line across the sea.
"Ya don't have to feel sorry for yerself, love," said Jack solemnly. His head bowed somewhat as he played with something in his hands. "I'm the one to blame. I brought ya to a place that was never meant for ye. I mean… you're a pirate in the blood, Astrid. The day you was born, ya had that independent fire spark in ya. Even as a lass you jumped about pretendin' that ya ruled the seas. I knew that you deserved betta, but maybe betta wasn't what you needed."
"What? What d'you mean, you brought me here?" I asked, the tears finally stopping. "I thought—"
"Ask them," he interrupted. "They'll tell you." He got up, opening a small canteen that was in his hands and bringing the tip to his lips.
"Ask who?" I persisted, not wanting him to leave. Please don't leave too, Jack. You will come back, right?
"You know who they are. I don't need to tell ya, love." He placed the canteen in my hands before calling to his ship again. I heard him shout out orders, and I listened as his feet scurried over the gang plank and onto the deck of his ship, but I didn't watch him leave. I let the sound of the rushing waves, moving wind and weak cries of the gulls go behind me as I examined the bottle in my hands. It smelled like… like rum. Rum. In the treasure chest behind the dressing screen in their room. Them. Mum and Dad… Mum and Dad!
"Jack!" I cried, whirling about, but the ship was well on its way to the horizon. My call was only echoed by the white gulls hovering in the air, and the bottle of rum slipped from my hands and shattered on a sharp rock that jutted from the sand.
I sprang from my bed, eyes wide and fearful. The dream happened again. It was now two weeks since Adam had said goodbye to me and that dream about Jack always recurred. Every time I closed my eyes we'd have the same talk, and the bottle would always break at the end, and I would be left kneeling in the sand trying to fix it. Trying to make it whole again, but I always failed. The rum would just flow from the bottle like an endless waterfall and I'd continue to think that I could fix the damn thing.
With a sigh, I plopped my face onto my pillow again, staring out into the dark, misty night. There was no moon to be seen. I remembered that when I was a little girl, perhaps six or seven, maybe even eight, whenever I had a bad dream, I'd run to my mum and dad, and they'd carry me and hold me close while we looked out of a window at the silver piece of moon. One time, they even went through all the trouble to take me outside because I could not find the moon from behind a house window.
Dressed in our nightclothes, Mum carried me while Daddy led the way. They brought me to the shore and let me wade in the cold salt water as I looked for the moon. "Did you find it, Astrid?" Daddy had said.
"Yes, Daddy. There it is. Look!" was my reply, and he picked me up as I pointed to the white, glowing ball glued to the sky.
"It is big, isn't it?" he had asked me, and I nodded as I began to feel sleepy in his arms again.
"Do you think he sees it too?" I had questioned, feeling a yawn coming on.
"I do. I think he's out there looking at the same moon just like you."
"Good. I miss him…" The sea sent us a bitter breeze and I felt Mum's hands grip my shoulders.
"We should head back, Will," she had said. "She might catch a cold." Then we left the shore, the last thing I saw being the white moon surrounded in a ring of black clouds.
It surprised me how my childhood memories still affected me so much. As I looked at that moon, I relaxed so much, but now, I couldn't. Certain memories wouldn't take their spot in the back of my mind, and that was what drove me to get out of bed and talk to my Mum and Dad.
After throwing on a robe and walking down the hallway to Mum and Dad's room, I looked at the two doors that separated them from me. Maybe I shouldn't disturb them. I've done enough trouble already. I should give them some peace… but… My fist was raised and ready to knock on the doors, but I never made the knock. My guilt took a hold of me again and I retreated back to my room to look at the moon alone.