Ch 3

A Strange Man

Two nights have passed and Crane had landed successfully on the peaceful Caribbean Islands. The gentle salty breeze filled the air as the triumphant sun glittered to the ground. The heat was enjoyable to the people of the Caribbean but, unpleasant, to Crane who wasn't well adjusted to the burn of the sun being he was from New York.

The constable hadn't stopped to admire the beauty of the new island, not even once. Instead, he was determined to start his search for the fiendish Jack Sparrow and, even more so, he was determined in catching him.

Crane held a case in his right hand full of gadgets, all in which he invented, and a piece of scratch paper in his left hand which had an address clearly scribbled on it in black ink. However, the address came with no directions and being the island was a new land to the constable, he was lost and like other men who become lost, he determined whether or not to stop for directions.

The constable finally admitted defeat and, even more so, admitted his need for directions. He paused to find a man. Crane almost immediately noticed a man straight ahead of him. He looked rather poor and very uneducated, however, Crane realized it was hopeless to find anyone else in the vacancy, "You, sir," called the constable.

The man suddenly paused to look in Crane's direction. Noticing no other men were around him, the man approached the constable. He looked confused but intent, "Yes," asked the man.

Crane cleared his throat and straightened his posture, "Do you know where this may be," he asked holding up the shriveled paper proudly.

The man looked closer to the paper, "Yes, I do," the man responded.

The response was followed by a sudden hesitation. Crane patiently waited for the man to explain the way, however, there was a sudden uncertainty, "Oh, do you," the constable asked, "Then you know the directions, I would gather?"

The shaggy man nodded, "Yes, I do, sir," responded the man.

There was a certain force and tenseness in the man's voice. Crane nearly interrogated him; however, he immediately forced himself to bite his tongue. He was in the Caribbean for one man and one man only, and that man was Jack Sparrow. Anyway, questioning another man may just lose the constable his job.

Ichabod raised his eyebrow suspiciously, "You said you know the directions, didn't you? What are they?"

The man swallowed, "I beg your pardon," he questioned.

Ichabod rolled his eyes, "The directions! What are the directions to this residence," he exclaimed.

The man closed his eyes as if Crane were to attack him, "Oh, yes. If you insist I can take you there, sir," the man smiled uneasily.

The constable denied the man instantly. He hadn't wanted a man of his sort directing him physically, "No—no," Crane responded, "There is no need."

The man shrugged and nodded, "Alright," he said. In that, the man immediately began to walk away.

Crane shook his head in disgust, "How can a man be so dense," he asked to himself. It had been obvious that something was wrong and it became harder and harder for the constable to keep sealed. It became nearly impossible for Crane to hold himself back from questioning. Instead, he closed his eyes and focused on the purpose of his voyage.

He followed the man from behind and continued, "Excuse me, sir," Ichabod pardoned, "You said you know the directions to this residence? Can you or can you not tell me what those are?"

The startled man turned to Crane. The man looked at Crane edgily, "Why didn't you say that before, sir," the man responded.

The constable continued, "I have. Look- it doesn't matter. Can you just tell me how to get to this residence?"

The man shook his head, "No, I can't," the man responded, "I don't know the directions offhand. I only know how to get there by walk."

Crane rolled his eyes, "Do you," the constable asked slightly aggravated, "Will you take me," he surrendered walking off with the awkward stranger.