Chapter 6- The Storm Returns
The week passed uneventfully, or as uneventful as it could pass with Jack and Will staying in her apartment. Thankfully Jack and Will learned not to attack things that made funny noises, they learned how to use the shower, and the microwave, as well as how to sleep in a bed without completely destroying it. Despite this, every evening when Portia came home her apartment was in some degree of chaos and confusion.
On Monday Will had managed to set the stove on fire when he set the newspaper down on the still warm burner that Portia had boiled water for tea on before she left. She had come running back up the stairs to yells and screams from Will and Jack to find the paper in roaring flames. Her boss had not been happy that she was an hour late for work. She hadn't bothered to tell him that two strange men staying in her apartment had set the stove on fire; he wouldn't have believed her. Mr. Quay was not a man of imagination. He was the editor of a major fashion magazine, but no imagination what so ever.
Jack was apparently undaunted by the episode with the burning stove the day before and on Tuesday decided he was going to cook dinner for himself, Will, and Portia before Portia got home. It was a kind gesture, he was only trying to give her a break for the night, but once again Portia came home to the kitchen filled with smoke and the stovetop on fire. By the time the fire had been put out the whole apartment smelled of smoke and Portia had to open every window to let the rooms air out. Luckily the storm from the weekend had passed by, for now at least, and the sun was shinning outside.
After much pressure from Will and begging from Jack Tuesday night, Portia allowed that Jack and Will could leave the apartment as long as they stayed together or at least didn't get lost. This concession on her part seemed to cheer Jack and Will up immensely, who had been rather sulky since Sunday night, and after a desert of chocolate raspberry torte, Portia turned on the movie 'Pirates of the Caribbean' and watched with laughter on her lips as Jack and Will stared at themselves on the TV, acting out apparently exactly what had happened to them from whenever they came from.
After the movie was over Jack turned to Portia with a very confused look on his face. "Luv, wha, where did those people that look like us come from? Why is there a movie about the Black Pearl?" Will looked just as confused as Jack.
Portia shrugged. "I have no idea," she replied. "You sure you're not some loonies from the asylum who think you are Captain Jack Sparrow and Will Turner?"
The look on Jack's face told her that he was quite sure that wasn't true. His face then changed, and the devilish smile that had sat on his lips the first night he arrived came back. "You said your last name was Turner right?"
"Yes, why?"
"Well, Will's name is Turner, and since I'm pretty sure we are real people, then perhaps you are related? Distantly?"
"I'm sure there are lots of Turners from England, there could be no connection at all." Portia wasn't sure why she wanted to squash the thought that she might be related to Will, but she wanted to.
"All right, all right," Jack said putting his hands in the air in surrender. "Only wonderin'."
Wednesday and Thursday were quiet. Jack and Will spent each day outside wandering around the city. They were still gone when Portia got home Thursday night. She had cooked dinner slowly, very tired and sore from a long week of hard work. She was a photographer for a New York fashion magazine, and Mr. Quay seemed to have decided to book as many appointments for her that week as possible. She didn't even get off early on Friday like she normally did. Jack and Will arrived back at the apartment just as she was eating dinner herself. With them they brought a bottle of very fine wine, a small bottle of rum, and a large bouquet of flowers that Jack bestowed on Portia with a quick kiss on the cheek. They drank the wine for dinner, and then Jack and Will went out on the small balcony where the fire escape came up the side of the building to drink the rum they had bought. Portia figured they thoughts he wouldn't want them drinking it in the apartment.
Ever since the first night Portia had given up her bedroom to Jack and Will to sleep in since Jack snored horrendously, and Will muttered in his sleep. Portia could stand neither disturbances in her sleep and insisted they sleep in the bedroom where the sound was muffled most. Yet Portia still woke almost every hour, getting very little sleep in the night. Friday morning at about four o'clock Portia had given up on trying to fall asleep again and was sitting at the kitchen table listening to the loud snorts and drawls of Jack's snore when the thought occurred to her: why were Jack and Will still staying in her apartment? Where had they really come from? And what was the prophecy and ring that they had spoken of secretly the first night they arrived? Before she could contemplate the questions anymore she dozed off into a fitful sleep and did not wake until Jack shook her arm at seven.
* * * * * * * *
The week passed uneventfully, or as uneventful as it could pass with Jack and Will staying in her apartment. Thankfully Jack and Will learned not to attack things that made funny noises, they learned how to use the shower, and the microwave, as well as how to sleep in a bed without completely destroying it. Despite this, every evening when Portia came home her apartment was in some degree of chaos and confusion.
On Monday Will had managed to set the stove on fire when he set the newspaper down on the still warm burner that Portia had boiled water for tea on before she left. She had come running back up the stairs to yells and screams from Will and Jack to find the paper in roaring flames. Her boss had not been happy that she was an hour late for work. She hadn't bothered to tell him that two strange men staying in her apartment had set the stove on fire; he wouldn't have believed her. Mr. Quay was not a man of imagination. He was the editor of a major fashion magazine, but no imagination what so ever.
Jack was apparently undaunted by the episode with the burning stove the day before and on Tuesday decided he was going to cook dinner for himself, Will, and Portia before Portia got home. It was a kind gesture, he was only trying to give her a break for the night, but once again Portia came home to the kitchen filled with smoke and the stovetop on fire. By the time the fire had been put out the whole apartment smelled of smoke and Portia had to open every window to let the rooms air out. Luckily the storm from the weekend had passed by, for now at least, and the sun was shinning outside.
After much pressure from Will and begging from Jack Tuesday night, Portia allowed that Jack and Will could leave the apartment as long as they stayed together or at least didn't get lost. This concession on her part seemed to cheer Jack and Will up immensely, who had been rather sulky since Sunday night, and after a desert of chocolate raspberry torte, Portia turned on the movie 'Pirates of the Caribbean' and watched with laughter on her lips as Jack and Will stared at themselves on the TV, acting out apparently exactly what had happened to them from whenever they came from.
After the movie was over Jack turned to Portia with a very confused look on his face. "Luv, wha, where did those people that look like us come from? Why is there a movie about the Black Pearl?" Will looked just as confused as Jack.
Portia shrugged. "I have no idea," she replied. "You sure you're not some loonies from the asylum who think you are Captain Jack Sparrow and Will Turner?"
The look on Jack's face told her that he was quite sure that wasn't true. His face then changed, and the devilish smile that had sat on his lips the first night he arrived came back. "You said your last name was Turner right?"
"Yes, why?"
"Well, Will's name is Turner, and since I'm pretty sure we are real people, then perhaps you are related? Distantly?"
"I'm sure there are lots of Turners from England, there could be no connection at all." Portia wasn't sure why she wanted to squash the thought that she might be related to Will, but she wanted to.
"All right, all right," Jack said putting his hands in the air in surrender. "Only wonderin'."
Wednesday and Thursday were quiet. Jack and Will spent each day outside wandering around the city. They were still gone when Portia got home Thursday night. She had cooked dinner slowly, very tired and sore from a long week of hard work. She was a photographer for a New York fashion magazine, and Mr. Quay seemed to have decided to book as many appointments for her that week as possible. She didn't even get off early on Friday like she normally did. Jack and Will arrived back at the apartment just as she was eating dinner herself. With them they brought a bottle of very fine wine, a small bottle of rum, and a large bouquet of flowers that Jack bestowed on Portia with a quick kiss on the cheek. They drank the wine for dinner, and then Jack and Will went out on the small balcony where the fire escape came up the side of the building to drink the rum they had bought. Portia figured they thoughts he wouldn't want them drinking it in the apartment.
Ever since the first night Portia had given up her bedroom to Jack and Will to sleep in since Jack snored horrendously, and Will muttered in his sleep. Portia could stand neither disturbances in her sleep and insisted they sleep in the bedroom where the sound was muffled most. Yet Portia still woke almost every hour, getting very little sleep in the night. Friday morning at about four o'clock Portia had given up on trying to fall asleep again and was sitting at the kitchen table listening to the loud snorts and drawls of Jack's snore when the thought occurred to her: why were Jack and Will still staying in her apartment? Where had they really come from? And what was the prophecy and ring that they had spoken of secretly the first night they arrived? Before she could contemplate the questions anymore she dozed off into a fitful sleep and did not wake until Jack shook her arm at seven.
* * * * * * * *