Chapter 37: History Lesson
Stephen found me crumbling on the streets, trying to move my feet towards home. He immediately suggested that he carry me there, for I was a pitiful sight indeed, but I declined the offer. Stephen, prideful and stubborn Stephen, would not take no for an answer and scooped me up in his arms and carried me home, while I continued to heave coughs and sobs into the humid air. Adam… Adam… I'm sorry… so sorry…
Upon reaching my house, Stephen kicked the doors with his feet to signal the servants to open it, for he refused to set me on the ground still weeping eternally. Maggie happened to opened it, and at my sight, her eyes grew wide and she shrieked, "Miss?"
"Leave her be," commanded Stephen, before marching through the doors, up the stairs and into my room. He set me gently on my bed and left me there to continue my mourning, sending me a kiss on the forehead before he left. Thank you, Stephen. Don't feel guilty for getting me in trouble. It was not you. It was me. It always has to be me…
As soon as no other soul was in my bedroom, I got up and shut my door. No person would have to hear my pathetic sobs and howls but me. Returning to my bed, I collapsed onto its physical softness and comfort, but was unable to soak it unto myself. In such a position, I sputtered cry after cry into my sleeve, into my pillows, into my bed, everywhere! Adam would never love me again. He probably wanted to see me dead, and his wish was not at all unreasonable. I had hurt him again, harder than before, and to think that he forgave me the first time was a miracle. No ordinary man would have done that to a lying, cheating partner. And yet, dearest Adam was strong enough to do so. But I knew the crime I had committed would never be redeemed. Adam made it clear that I would have to suffer with the guilt for turning back into a stupid, witless girl, and as I said before, I'd do anything for him… even suffer.
"Are you feeling any better, dear?" said a soft, gentle voice. My eyes were open, but barely, for they were dry and red from a full night of crying. My tears were spent, but my torment still remained unbearably high and my dear Mummy was kind enough to sit by my bedside, stroking my damp forehead with her motherly affection.
"No," I cried meekly, shifting onto my side and rubbing my running nose into my pillow and stuffing my mouth with the feathery softness to keep me from letting out another sob.
"Oh Astrid," sighed Mum. "Do you want to talk about what happened?" I refused to lift my face and look at her and continued press my pillow harder onto my wincing face. The pain was still too fresh and young to be handled maturely.
"There's nothing to talk about," I croaked, turning my head away from her so that I looked at the dull wall of my room.
"Your father and I are always here for you, Astrid. If you need anything, just send Maggie to us, or shout out our names. We'll come to you immediately." While my mind had drifted off into unpleasant dreams, I felt Mum's hand pat my shoulder reassuringly. The soft tap of her shoes grew fainter by the second, and at her leave, I heard my door close and the lock go into place with a 'click.'
"Has she spoke to you about anything?" said a voice outside of my door. It was Daddy, and his voice sounded so worn and concerned, desperate even.
"No, Will. She is too overwhelmed with the thought of losing Adam again to speak openly with us. I wish I could relate with her and tell her she will find her match one day, but I know nothing of what she has gone through. Perhaps… Do you think it is time to tell her?" replied Mum, her voice growing softer and lower with each word.
"At her current condition, no, Elizabeth. You and I know very well that Astrid is very emotional. She'd erupt before we had a chance to explain."
"That is true. We'll wait, but we told ourselves we'd tell her so many times in the past years, and every year we avoided the matter. We can't do that anymore, Will. That's not what a parent should do to their children."
"I promised you we'll tell her soon. As soon as she is well again, we'll tell her. I promise." Silence followed, and no more was said. From my place in my bed, my heart was eased of some of the painful pressure obtained from my argument with Adam. To know that my parents were hiding something from me did not make me angry, as I usually would have been. It only drew me away from my despair, and brought me closer to a mystery I was dying to solve ever since I read the papers from Mum and Dad's room. Who was Jack? How did my parents meet him? And what did he have anything to do with my strange, but most likely meaningful dreams?
By morning, I was back to my old self, renewed only through the desire to discover what all my dreams meant. I was up when Maggie entered my room, and she greeted me with a wide smile, probably not expecting me to be up and about after what I had gone through. "Good morning, Miss," she said, nodding her head in my direction.
"Thank you, Maggie. May I beg you to answer a question?" With a raised eyebrow, she brought me to my dressing screen and began to clothe me in another dress.
"Go ahead, Miss," she replied, fastening my corset on. "Take a large breath, dearie," she added, and I drew up as much air as my lungs allowed me before Maggie pulled on the strings and suffocated my poor innards.
"Do you know anything about a pirate named Captain Jack Sparrow?" Her hands suddenly stopped pulling on the strings and I looked back at her, wondering why she wasn't answering. "Maggie?"
"No, Miss," she sighed, resuming her work again. "Don't know who he is."
"But certainly you've heard the name, otherwise you wouldn't have stopped." Her hands came to a halt again and she placed her hands on her hips and poked my crooked back.
"Well, Miss. I have heard it, but not in your lifetime."
"Honestly?" I asked. "When? Where? Here?"
"Don't get too excited, Miss. It was just a name that floated about around the town when your parents were still a young and active twenty years or so. Don't exist nowadays." I frowned as the dress was pulled over my head and pinned tightly in the back.
"Pity," I mumbled, saddened that the notorious Jack Sparrow was barely alive in towns and cities as a great and unconquerable pirate.
As soon as I was dressed, cleaned, and brushed to appear like a fine lady, I rushed down the stairs to quickly consume my breakfast and head off to Grandfather's study to do more reading on sea life. I had improved somewhat with my navigational skills, but Roland was still by far much better and faster than me when it came to using a compass and map.
It was after breakfast, and I was happily occupying myself in Grandfather's office, when the doors to the room burst open and Roland paraded through, yelling with perhaps, too much enthusiasm. "Astrid!" he yelled, jumping up and down. "The Paramount! She's finally here! And by God she looks stunning! Come on!" I rose from Grandfather's large armchair, gathered the book I was reading, along with the notes I took from it and followed Roland out of the study and to the front doors. "Come on! Hurry! Don't bring those books, for God's sake, Astrid!" He directed for me to drop the books but I held them firmly to my chest.
"I'm bringing them. I know that you'll want me to stay and if I find the ship less than amusing, then at least I have my book to stay amused."
"Bollocks!" he muttered, making sure his collar was presentable. He was, after all, returning to the ship as a midshipman with hopes of being promoted to lieutenant. His fingers were shaking from the excitement he held and I grabbed a parasol just for show. "You want to meet the Paramount, Astrid?" he exclaimed.
"Of course I do," I replied. "Lead the way!"
"All right!" He grabbed my arm and hauled me out of the front doors, running speedily down the dirt driveway. I took it he would waste no time preparing a carriage. We'd run all the way, even though my legs were still sore from the other day from running to catch Adam. But I was finally going to gaze upon the glorious Paramount, a true, grand warship of mighty Britannia. I did not dare decline the opportunity.
Spotting Roland's beloved ship was undeniably simple. Its size, compared to the other ships at port was all too apparent. Then again, the large crowd of people gathering around her signaled that that was her, and Roland's pace only quickened all the more as he dragged me down to the docks with indecipherable shouts of joy. "Did you see... My God, Astrid… I'm just so… Look at it! My God, look at it!" he yelled, unable to complete his thoughts. The boy was never this excited over anything. I'd make sure to make his visit to his ship very good, for he had been a very loyal brother since he came home.
"Excuse us. I'm terribly sorry, sir," I sputtered, as I was being knocked all around by the immovable mass of people. Roland paid no heed to manners and simply cried, "Move, God dammit!" and the people moved for him, only to close back into a tight cluster when I had to pass. How funny the world acted towards the different sex.
"Captain Howard!" shouted Roland, as he raced up the gang plank to set foot upon the deck he so long admired. He made sure to grab my arm again so that I wasn't refused the chance to step foot on the ship with him and in one giant leap, we stood upon the deck of the H.M.S Paramount.
Standing close to the main mast was a man dressed finely in a midnight blue uniform, with a hat rimmed with white feathery puffs. He was surrounded by a few other men, who were not dressed as richly or seemed to hold a more authoritative face, and directed his crew around with a pointed finger and shouting mouth. "That's Captain Howard, Astrid," whispered Roland to me as he tugged on my arm to move forward. He's a bit rough to please, but an excellent captain he is. Come. You should meet him."
"Roland, I—"
"Midshipman Turner!" said one of the lieutenants standing by Captain Howard. "Back for another stay on the Paramount?"
"Of course, sir!" said Roland, saluting to the impending lieutenant. "I'll sign up again as soon as I get the chance, but first, I'd just like to take a good look at the improvements made on this ship. She was in terrible shape when she came back some time ago."
"Indeed she was, Mr. Turner," replied the lieutenant. "Had to take her to another port with more supplies and more space in order to get her fixed. She's ready though, to get back on the sea and give Old Bony's damned fleet a good beating, wouldn't you say so?"
"The Paramount will do any French ship what she's worth, Lieutenant Dyer," said Roland. Lieutenant Dyer smiled and gave a tip of his hat towards Roland, but paused at me, perhaps too astonished to find a woman on board.
"Well, it seems someone has been busy on land," he laughed.
"Oh no, sir," said Roland hurriedly. "She's my sister."
"Well then," said Lieutenant Dyer. "I think an introduction to our naval crew would be fitting for Miss…"
"Miss Astrid Turner," I said, smiling. Lieutenant Dyer was a very uplifting young man. Perhaps not much older than twenty five, but with a very understanding look on his face. I did not question if he was handsome or not, for physical appearance was not a large factor when it came to leadership on a ship.
"Yes, Miss Turner," he repeated. "Captain!" he called, turning his head promptly in the direction of Captain Howard and the other possible officers waiting on him.
"Yes, Mister Dyer?" replied the captain, marching with his band towards Roland and me.
"Midshipman Turner is back, and he brought his sister along."
"Mister Turner? Splendid. Good to have a loyal midshipman such as you back on this ship, but I think you should know by now that women aren't allowed on board," said Captain Howard. His voice was slightly hoarse and dry, but he still appeared fairly young compared to other captains I had heard of. He was most likely in his mid to late thirties, which made for the prime age of captains during those days.
"She's just visiting, sir," said Roland. "She admires the sea as much as I do and requested to see the Paramount," he said. What? I never said I wanted to see the ship, brother. You made me. But… it has been wonderful thus far.
"Does she now? What book is that in your arms, Miss Turner?" asked Captain Howard, pointing to the black book I still clutched firmly.
"An atlas, sir," I replied, shaking a bit. I was not sure if the men would burst out laughing or nod in understanding.
"Now what's a pretty thing like you doing with an atlas, my dear?" said Captain Howard, grinning. The other officers began to smirk as well with the silliness of my confession.
"Roland is teaching me to navigate, sir," I said. "A lengthy process it has been and I still cannot figure out how to use a compass effectively." The men laughed and I smiled in return, relieved that I had mocked my own self before they could.
"Well, it was a pleasure seeing you again, Mister Turner," said Howard. "And also to meet your sister. Carry on."
"Yes, sir," said Roland, and at that, we bothered the officers no further and Roland began to point out the areas on deck to me, from mizzen mast to topsail, to helm, to foc'sle and several other areas. He would have shown me below, but Captain Howard did not allow him to. Still, I was pleased with the tour, though minimal, and left the ship with a very happy spirit. But the happiness would be terribly short-lived.
When Roland and I returned home, we heard Mum and Dad arguing in the living room. Immediately, my books dropped from my hands and Roland and I exchanged shocked faces. We had never heard our parents argue in our whole entire lives. "Will, I'm afraid of telling her," said Mum. "I do not want to lose her."
"Elizabeth, if we do not tell her now, she will be lost to us. She'll be left to wonder about these things for years and she would never know. We can't let her believe in lies." Lies? Mum and Dad had not noticed that we had arrived and Roland pulled on my arm to hide from their possible view. Side by side, we leaned against the wall to the parlor and listened with eyes focused and ears alert.
"But they are not really lies. This is who she is, Will. She was raised here, she loves the place, she knows its people. That's just as big a part of her as what we have yet to reveal," Mum insisted, her steady voice now finding it difficult to speak. I had no idea what they were speaking of, or who they were speaking of, but something about their bickering was causing me to worry.
"But she doesn't know that other part of her life and she must know it, Elizabeth. I was driven to anger and distrust when Jack told me my father was a pirate. If I had known sooner, I probably would have had an easier time understanding it because I had not gone through enough to learn to avoid the truth. I don't want Astrid to have to go through the same thing." My eyes widened and I whisked my head to Roland, not knowing what to say. Our parents had mentioned Jack for the first time out loud, and coincidentally, the mentioning of Jack was somehow connected to me. And I happened to be the source of the problem in the argument yet again.
"Go, Astrid," whispered Roland. "You find out what's going on."
"But I don't want to—"
"Listen to me, sister," said Roland, grabbing me and looking me straight in the eye. "Mum and Dad would not be arguing if the thing they were disputing over was not important. It is important and it is about you, therefore you must clarify things to yourself. Understand?" Reluctantly, I nodded and he smiled reassuringly before I decided to confront my parents.
My body was enveloped in a strange merge of fear, eagerness, and faint timidity. Too many strange things were taking place. Roland was about to leave soon. Mum and Dad were fighting. And Jack was mentioned in our household for the very first time. Perhaps it was about time I asked them about my dreams. "Mum?" I peeped, walking slowly into the parlor with heavy feet. I felt so weighed down by some unknown burden, but I could not figure out what it was that made me so sad.
"Astrid!" yelped Mum as she rose from the chair she sat in and walked towards me. She welcomed me with an embrace, though rather weak, and brought me to the center of the room where Daddy stood looking quite heartsick.
"I heard you… quarrelling and I… I began to worry so I…" My mouth was finding it difficult to process my thoughts into words. I wondered why Mum and Dad were fighting, but I also wondered about Jack in equal amount. I had no idea of where to begin, and therefore, of what to say.
"Astrid," said Daddy, taking my hand. "Your mother and I have something to tell you, but before we say anything I want you to please promise us that you won't get angry."
"I can't guarantee that, Daddy," I replied, knowing that I was a hotheaded fool and could easily burst from one said statement.
"Will you at least try, Astrid?" said Dad. His dark eyes were shadowed in uncertainty and foretold some devastating news, but what on earth could it have been?
"Yes, Dad. I will."
"All right. Go sit down with your mother." I did as I was told and Mum took my hand and squeezed it tight. I turned to her, astonished that she was fretting so much, and I found that she was crying, but she was too ashamed to wipe her tears away.
"Mum, why are you—"
"Listen to your father, Astrid," she said simply, but firmly. My eyes turned to Daddy, and his mind seemed elsewhere at the moment, focused on what he had to say. His age was more apparent to me now, for his brow was furrowed in deep thought and his lips were pursed in a hard line. I was afraid for a moment, of what they were about to tell me, but Mum suppressed my fear with another squeeze of my hand.
"Astrid," said Daddy, looking directly at me with pain in his eyes. There was something familiar about the pain seen in his eyes. It looked identical to Jack's face when he had to let go of the little girl in my dream. There was an agonizing pause, and my ears were being filled with the constant beat of my heart and the steady and calm voice of my father. Mum's sobs were heightened and she looked away from me, burying her beautiful face in her hands. Dear Mum, have I hurt you as well? Dad rubbed his forehead with his fingers, his face twisted in a tight grimace. Letting out a breath that he obviously was holding onto, he said, "Astrid, you're not our daughter."