Chapter 4: Complications
The sunrise reminded Eliza of eggs stirred slowly into a thick, rich batter. Through the tavern window, the yellow disappeared into the white sky as the minutes hastened on. She appraised herself in the mirror, grudgingly acknowledging that the dress selected for her by Captain Sparrow was indeed flattering to her slender young figure (even if it was cut a bit too low in front than anything she was used to wearing). She picked up her pirate clothes, which she had washed out by hand and hung over the end of the bed to dry, and rolled them into a tight ball she stuffed under her left arm, and set out for the San Miguel dock.
The crew of the Black Pearl was assembled near the far end, many of them moaning from the effects of the night before. Gibbs, who was a bit bleary-eyed himself, set about signing out the boats in the harbormaster's log and assigning crewmembers to each of the four vessels. Eliza was nervous, being eyed by the pirates, some of who smiled at her bawdily, others who whistled, and even a few who blushed and turned away. She turned toward the city once more so she wouldn't have to see the pirates ogling her in her new dress. From the bundle under her arm, she removed her hair ribbon and tied her hair back over her shoulders. When she looked back up, she saw Jack Sparrow ambling toward her.
"What say you, Captain?" asked Eliza. "How much do I owe you for the dress?"
"On the contrary, love," he offered with a lazy grin. "You and I, we're going sailing. You see, I know who sacked your father's ship. I know who they are, and I know where they're going, and we'll talk a bit more once you're back on board the Black Pearl."
Questions swirled in Eliza's mind, but she saved them all. She spent the brief ferry, again between Gibbs and Cotton, wondering what she could have possibly gotten herself into at this point. Surely, there was nothing for her back in San Miguel but a two-week wait for the mayor's return, and even then, she didn't want to think about what she might have to do to afford a continued stay at El Lagarto. Just the thought of Diego, asking her to put on makeup and hang from that dreadful banister, and pirates looking up her skirt…made Eliza shiver uncomfortably. This was another one of those moments, she thought, just like letting go of the door when she was floating in the sea. This could be the end, but could just as easily be the beginning.
Once safely on board the Black Pearl, Eliza helped a crewman named Bandy Jim untie the riggings to prepare the ship for departure. As she did so, a gust of wind came past and lifted her dress up over her head, exposing her knee-length, lacy knickers. She shrieked and dropped the riggings, pulling her dress back down and looking around to see whether anyone besides Bandy Jim had noticed. Jack Sparrow, of course, stood behind the ship's wheel, beaming down at her from the elevated platform, saying it all with a grin and a raising of his eyebrows. Eliza, infuriated, held her arms firmly at her sides and strode off to the room she was again sharing with Annamaria, to change back into her more practical pirate clothes.
"The Captain is requestin' ya, miss," said Gibbs, striding up behind Eliza, who was sitting on deck peeling a basket of potatoes.
Eliza thanked the old seaman, set down her basket of potatoes, and followed him up the stairs of the platform, past the ship's wheel, toward Jack Sparrow's ready room. When Gibbs swung the door open, it revealed the captain sitting low in an ornate, high-backed chair, legs balanced on the wall, his hat down over his eyebrows as he picked his teeth with the tip of a knife. Sparrow heard the door and quickly slid the knife up his sleeve, slid his hat back up, pulled his legs down and sat properly, pretending this was the sight his visitors had encountered instead.
"I've brought her, captain," said Gibbs, shaking his head with a smile.
"Leave us, Mister Gibbs. We'll talk later, mate." Eliza winced as she watched Sparrow wink at Gibbs as Gibbs exited, leaving her alone with the captain.
"Sit down, miss, we've matters to discuss," said Jack matter-of-factly.
Eliza found the chair closest to the door and sank down in it, trembling slightly. She looked across at Jack. "You said you knew who killed my father, and sank the Esperanza, and know where they're headed."
"It's true. Fortunately Mister Diego is awfully fond of doubloons, and for the right price will exercise his skill in the art of information trade. The Esperanza was headed north to St. John, correct?"
"That's right."
"Well…just Sunday, a merchant landed in San Miguel from a passenger ship originating in St. John. They said they saw a large ship pass by, toward the west, flying a black flag with a yellow cross."
"And that has what to do with the Esperanza?" asked Eliza impatiently, wishing she could finish being alone with Jack Sparrow.
"The answer is…" Jack exhaled and swallowed. "The answer is unfortunate. Unfortunate, love, because the flag in question is none other than the standard of El Cruce."
"El…what?" asked Eliza.
"El Cruce. Otherwise known as Hector Ruiz, former lieutenant who served under Cortez, murdered Aztecs by the thousand. Apparently, ole Hector was one cruel bastard, who preferred crucifixion when conducting executions, hence earning himself the name El Cruce, which means…"
"The Cross," said Eliza, along with Sparrow.
"Yes. So anyway. Cortez tells his man Ruiz to execute some natives to get them to comply, man gets a little too bloodthirsty, the Aztec chief curses Cortez with the whole cursed gold thing…long story, really, not very interesting…" Jack shrugged. "Then Tom's your uncle, Mary's your aunt…Cortez banishes El Cruce, who turns to piracy."
"But why would a Spanish lieutenant attack a Spanish ship?" exclaimed Eliza.
"Former Spanish military man, you see. He was banished from the Navy by Cortez, excommunicated by his church and branded an enemy to his queen. He is an outlaw to Spain. So while he attacks all the ships indiscriminately and sends others inland to sell the booty, he can't resist a Spanish ship. Those are the lucky ones, the ones he sinks. The others are found, gutted and floating about, crewmen nailed right to the masts so everyone knows who done it. Bloodiest calling card on the high seas, I'll wager."
Eliza felt hot tears begin rolling down her face. Nobody on the Esperanza had been Spanish, and maybe if her father had changed the ship's name, he and the whole crew would be alive now. It was all so pointless, she thought, as she wept silently. It didn't even matter to her anymore that she was crying in front of Jack Sparrow.
Jack sat quietly, feeling a well of sympathy for the girl but letting her cry. Christ, she was even beautiful when she cried, the poor young thing. This was not the time for him to make a move, he realized, though he had long since decided he would like to. Moments later, he stood up and walked slowly to the window, staring out toward the western side of the horizon. "We're heading west, Eliza. The Black Pearl is the fastest ship in the world, I promise you that. We're going to go get him."
Eliza wiped her eyes and looked up at the captain, whose profile looked almost handsome as he gazed. She could muster only one word. "Why?"
"He killed your father, sank your ship…" began Jack, incredulously.
"Surely you're not in this just to help an orphaned castaway," she said. "If you're doing this for me, it's folly. But a pirate like you, who…how did you say…makes wise wagers, acquires and sells things, drinks and sails. Surely there's some profit in this for you, or you wouldn't have bothered."
Sparrow turned to the girl and placed both hands over his heart as though mortally wounded. "Dear girl, you cut me to the quick. But…if we are being totally honest with each other, then yes, there is the relatively small matter of some stolen gems and Chinese silks to consider."
Eliza's eyes narrowed. At least he was telling her the truth, she thought angrily. "My father died delivering those goods, Captain Sparrow."
Jack looked crestfallen. Clearly, the girl did not understand. "Look…" he began pleadingly. "It's not like we'd be stealing it, because it's stolen already, you see? Your father did his duty as far as the gov'nor of St. John is concerned. Once the gov'nor understands the ship was attacked, all lost, well…hazard of the profession and nobody's the wiser, right? El Cruce takes the blame, whoever kills him is a hero to the British, it's assumed he spent the loot, and no more questions are asked. It's the perfect plan, love. Flawless."
Eliza stood up, face flushing. "Jack Sparrow, you're unbelievable."
"Oh, I'll cut you in, of course…but I need you because you're the only one can translate if we get in a bind…"
Eliza slapped the pirate across his face as hard as she could, left the room abruptly, and slammed the door behind her. Jack put a hand to his stinging cheek. "I may have deserved that one," he mused to himself.
Eliza stood alone in the breezy darkness, against the railing and looking down at the black waves passing beneath the Black Pearl. Tears streamed from her deep brown eyes. This new information had really messed her up.
Not just the idea of some barbaric pirate crucifying innocent sailors as he stole their loot, the same pirate who had killed her father made her simmer…but she was angry with herself. Of course Jack Sparrow would have profit as a motive. He was a pirate. His whole way was to scrape a living from opportunities such as this one, and there was nothing personal about it. He had found a way to profit without anyone getting hurt, and she had to admire his resourcefulness. He was doing what anyone would expect him to do.
What bothered Eliza the most, perhaps, was why she found herself so disappointed by Jack's truthfulness. She had seen evidence that he was not like other pirates. A scoundrel, for sure…but who would expect a pirate to do things like buy a new dress for a castaway, allow the castaway free roam of the ship and shelter in a cabin? She was confused now and didn't like it. On the one hand, he was bawdy, offensive, and a drunk. But she had seen a certain fire in him, and a certain tenderness. Despite her tears, she had to smile, picturing his grand gestures and extreme expressions. Jack certainly lingered on a person, she thought with a frown.
Eliza suddenly realized she was confused, utterly confused, and this confusion came as a most unwelcome surprise. Here was a man a good fifteen years or more her senior, a womanizer and a criminal toughened by a list of experiences she could only barely imagine…and she at a mere nineteen, familiar with life aboard a ship but utterly unfamiliar in the ways of men and mistresses. She was not about to let this dodgy pirate captain take advantage of her naivety, just so he could add her to his long list of conquests. His only loves were money, drink and the sea, and obviously he had women in every city from here to Tortuga. It would be highly impractical for him to change who he was, to settle down and be with one woman…Eliza quickly covered her eyes with her hands. What was she thinking? I am not thinking about this, she thought frantically. I am not, I must not. I've been through a terrible ordeal. I'm wounded, I'm vulnerable. And this man will take full advantage if I'm not careful.
Eliza realized that letting Sparrow win her over would mean justifying his outlandish behavior and having to deal with that smug and knowing grin for heaven knew how long. Jack might enjoy her for a time, but in the end, she decided, she would end up losing to the lures of treasure and adventure. And at what cost to her, she asked herself. Too high a cost, and one her father certainly wouldn't have approved of. She sure missed Old Nance right now, and the ability to talk through the tough stuff with another woman more experienced than she.
She heard a seagull cry somewhere off in the distance, sighed, and plopped herself down on a barrel, lost in perplexing thoughts. She heard the clapping of boots against the ship's planks, and the jingle of metal, and closed her eyes tightly because Eliza knew she was facing both a person and a moment for which she was utterly unprepared.
"Eliza," began Jack softly.
"Just go away, Jack," she said, eyes still shut. How could she even look at him, now that she'd been thinking the thoughts she'd been thinking? "Please," she begged meekly. "I really need to be left alone right now. It's a lot to take."
"Your choice, love. Entirely your choice."
Her head felt heavy as iron as she turned it to Sparrow and forced herself to look at him. She felt as though she were seeing him, really seeing him, for the first time. His dark, kohl-lined eyes were deeper and kinder than she'd ever noticed before. His build was evident as the lightly-blowing wind stretched his clothes against him – he was both slender and muscular. His lips were full, his cheekbones high and deeply set, and under all the facial hair and the braids, he really was very handsome. This information seared into Eliza with a blaze of pain. She knew now that some dark and dangerous part of her was deeply, utterly attracted to this man even though her logical self knew it was impractical, unwise, and under extreme duress.
Jack, for his part, saw her lingering gaze and for once, put on no airs. It was useless. She sees right through me, he thought wistfully, and I've upset her. He realized with disappointment that he had to give up any notion he'd toyed with about becoming involved with Eliza, because this was one girl he cared about too much to hurt and in the end, he would hurt her. He knew it, because it was inevitable. Most of Jack's women understood him well enough to know what they could and couldn't expect from him, no promises made, free reign. He'd pop in for a visit, share some special time, and that was that until he returned sometimes months later. He did love each of them in his way, at different times and for different reasons. But Eliza was too young and had no idea how to protect her heart, and he could see that things with her would quickly become complicated. The infamous Jack Sparrow could not deny his feelings for this girl any more than he could deny his nature. And that was the regrettable paradox.
Eliza stood up, still with her eyes on his, and walked past him toward her quarters. As she passed by him, Jack put up his hand, as though to grab her and pull her to him, but he inhaled a measured breath with flared nostrils and curled his hand into a frustrated fist. Why did she have to smell so good, he wondered, shutting his eyes and letting her fragrance sweep over him like a wave.
Eliza's body felt heavy to her as she sat down on her cot across from the window, gazing at the moon. She couldn't sleep. Her mind was racing.
"It's the captain," said Annamaria, rolling over to face Eliza. "The captain's got his evil hooks in ya. Innit? Didn't I warn you? Didn't I tell you about him?" she asked scornfully.
"I…well…" answered Eliza, measuring her words. "Nothing has happened, Annamaria. Nothing. You needn't worry. I haven't invaded your territory."
"MY territory!" cried Annamaria, suddenly sitting up on the cot. "My territory? Listen here, miss. It's true the captain and I have had our dealings, but that was a long time ago and over with now. He's no more my territory than he is ANYbody's territory, and believe me, Jack Sparrow is nobody's territory, savvy?"
"That's just the trouble of it," sighed Eliza, thinking maybe Annamaria might just be the perfect person to talk this through with. "It would be a such a mistake. I mean…he's a mess!"
"Aye, but a handsome mess with eyes o' the devil himself. No woman on earth stands a chance, much as it pains me to admit." Annamaria paused. "But you've come to understand that, now…haven' ya?"
"I have." Eliza blushed deeply, lowering her eyes.
"So naturally, you have questions then?"
"Well…you see…that is," stammered Eliza. "I've no idea how to please a man."
Annamaria smiled. "Sure I can tell ya a few things about that, but make no mistake, Jack don't worry about you pleasin' him half as much as he makes sure it's him what pleases you. And please you, he will. That's what he's in it for, pleasin' a lady, it gives him a rush. Drives him, I'd say."
Eliza sighed and threw herself backward onto the cot. Annamaria's answers were only making things worse. "Annamaria…is he…." Eliza's voice lowered to a whisper. "Is he gentle or is he rough?"
"Well," began the long-haired Jamaican woman. "He's built awful nice, if ya know my meanin'…with me, there were moments of gentle, moments of rough. All depends where you're leading him that night."
"Is he always drunk? Does he always smell like that?"
"He is drunk sometimes, that's true. But give 'im a bath, miss, and he cleans up just fine. And Jack likes a bath. He'd be takin' one now if he has any inklin' of this conversation, believe me."
"Oh no…Annamaria, he doesn't know. He mustn't know. Please, you won't tell him, will you? That would be a disaster!" pleaded Eliza.
"Only a disaster for you, Eliza, I promise you that. Yer secret's safe in here."
Eliza waited a few moments before asking Annamaria one final question. "Annamaria, do you ever wish you and Jack were still—"
"Never," answered her bunkmate, lying back down on her bed. "I washed my hands of him a long time ago, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone. He's a whole basket o' hurt, that one."
The two women laid in silence on their cots, both glad to have found friendship and both pondering the effects of Jack Sparrow in their own way until each drifted off into an uncomfortable sleep.