Chapter 5
Thinking it over, I've been sad
Thinking it over, I'd be more than glad To change my ways for the asking
Ask me and I will play All the love that I hold inside
The dress felt awkward, the corset tight and the dress silky. Elizabeth had lent me one of hers, a green one, shiny, with a little bit of lace around the collar. The sleeves extended to just above the elbow, another bit of lace around the cuffs. I had been dressed in undergarments, also lent by Elizabeth, and her servant did up my hair, putting hints of perfume over me. She knew enough about make-up to cover the still-healing scars and what remained of the bruises, which were now just little patches of black and blue. I felt extremely dressed up, stiff and sore in the dress and corset.
Following Elizabeth downstairs, I found myself in a greeting area with a stone floor. A small, circular table adorned with flowers sat in the middle of the room. Two rooms branched off from the waiting area, and a hallway continued to the other side of the house, the kitchens, etc. One room was the parlor, the other the dining room.
Governor Swann stood talking with Captain Norrington in front of the table in the greeting area. Both looked up as Elizabeth pulled me downstairs. Even though I had worn things similar to corsets before for my acting class, none of them had been as uncomfortable as this – it felt like my chest was about to cave in on me.
Governor Swann's face softened into a devoting smile as he saw Elizabeth. Captain Norrington glanced at her, his eyes moving to me. They stopped on me, widening slightly, and I could have sworn he gasped inaudibly, but in a flash Norrington resumed his state of stiff impassivity. The Governor offered his daughter his arm, and I was left with Norrington. I was surprised I hadn't fallen over yet from the sheer weight of the dress.
A servant pulled out a chair, and I gently sat down, surprised at how much the dress and seat cushioned my sore backside. The corset forced me to sit up straight, as well as making me hold me head a little more fixedly up. Swann sat at the head of the table, I on his left, Elizabeth on his left and Norrington beside Elizabeth. It was a nice dining room, grander than any I'd been in, with a polished mahogany table, wood floors, a small, modest chandelier, excellent silver and china, a side board, and some sort of wooden hanging with two swords going through. Other items littered the room, denoting the man's wealth and status, but I was quickly diverted by the bowl of soup placed in front of me. My mouth watered. I had never smelled anything so good in my life. Wine was poured into glasses, and water into a second, smaller glass. There was a quick blessing, and then the eating began. Nothing had ever tasted so good. Although I tried to remember my manners, it was very difficult to keep from picking up the bowl and slurping it all down at once.
"Miss Fitzgerald, I trust you are feeling better?" asked Swann.
"Yes, sir, thank you. I must confess, though, that I feel out-of- place here. I'm not used to all of this," I replied, motioning with my hand. "The soup is excellent, though, best I've ever had."
"You mentioned you were going to your uncle's home, in Virginia Beach," he commented. "Why there?"
"Well, he's the only family I've got, and he is better off and kinder than my parents, so I decided I may as well go where I'm accepted. I have friends in Virginia Beach. It was like a home until my parents forbid me to go there anymore."
"Why did they forbid you to go?" Norrington asked, leaning back as a servant took away the empty bowl.
"My father and my uncle hate each other like you wouldn't believe, and when my father found out how much time I was spending with my uncle, he basically threatened to kill me should I ever attempt to go there again."
"So what were you thinking when you left home, in hopes of reaching Virginia Beach without him knowing?"
"I wasn't heading directly for Virginia Beach. I was going to take a train to Charlottesville, then take a bus across Virginia to the coast, and hitch-hike the rest of the way. He can't trace me."
"What is this train and bus you speak of?" Swann asked.
"Modes of transportation. A bus is like a big carriage for a lot of people, and a train is like lots of buses, or carriages if you will, attached together which are attached to an engine that pulls them." Norrington glanced warily at Swann, and was probably thinking how crazy I sounded.
"What is Virginia Beach like?" Elizabeth asked, breaking the momentary awkward silence.
"It's a naval port. My uncle is in the navy, and is stationed there."
"Really?" said Norrington, suddenly interested. Another course was being set on the table, what looked like chicken and vegetables gourmet style.
"Yes. When I was young I would always go down to the docks and the base, hang out with my uncle and his officers and fellow crew members. It was always a lot of fun because they would let me poke around the ships, and generally go anywhere I liked as long as I didn't touch anything I wasn't supposed to. I was his command's mascot." I grinned, remembering my uncle's sharp, stern, but kind reprimands and instructions before letting me go exploring. "I must say that I learned more about the ocean and the navy there than I ever did in school."
"Are naval ports very different in 2004?" Norrington asked.
"Compared to the ones now? I don't know. I've never been to an 18th century port. I've only seen pictures of them, so I couldn't really make a fair judgment."
"Perhaps you might come down to the docks one day, I would be happy to show you around or have one of my men give you a tour."
"I would like that very, very much, Captain. Thank you for the offer. Any special time or day?"
"In two days time, about noon, shall we say? The guard changes then. That shall leave time for you to see the rest of Port Royal."
"Agreed." I gave a happy smile, managing to quell my excitement to that. Swann was eyeing Norrington curiously, questioningly, but Elizabeth looked relieved. The second course was eaten, equally as delicious as the first, and then we moved across the hall into the parlor for coffee or liquor. As we moved into the room, which was painted a deep green with giant drapes, Elizabeth said,
"Father, that instrument you saw earlier is a guitar. It's Fiona's. She was playing it when I visited her. It's quite pretty."
"You play music, then?" Swann said, smiling as he sat in the chair closest to the fire, which had been built up in the large fireplace.
"Yes, classical and other kinds. Mozart is my favorite composer."
"Mozart?" Swann said, obviously having no clue who I was talking about. "Who is he?" "Oh, just someone who is quite famous in Europe right now. He's only just come out," I said as I mentally kicked myself as I remembered the year. He wasn't dead yet. Heck, he was only 9 now. "But I enjoy Haydn's music as well, as well as Bach. I adore his cello suites." "Oh, yes, excellent composers, both. Bach's music has a passion that you seldom hear anywhere else. Have you heard...." "Father, perhaps we might inquire after the music of Fiona's home," interrupted Elizabeth softly, putting her hand in his. "She seems to have an understanding of classical, but I heard her singing something I was unfamiliar with." She looked to me. "Would you mind playing us something?" she requested excitedly. "If your father and Captain Norrington do not mind, then I shall, if you like." "I am interested to see how this instrument of yours works," Swann confessed. "When I saw it I did wonder what it was." "I'll go get it, then," I said, beginning to rise. "No, I'll have one of the servants get it." He rang a bell, and a young girl was sent upstairs. What am I going to sing? What do I know on the guitar? Something happy, uplifting, or they'll think I'm permanently depressed. The girl soon returned with the guitar, by which time I had decided to stick with Simon and Garfunkel or Bob Dylan. "What would you like to hear?" I asked, making sure the guitar was tuned. "Anything you like," Elizabeth said, her eyes bright. "Do you know any pirate songs?" "Elizabeth!" reprimanded Swann, and Norrington jerked his eyes to her, appearing surprised and shocked. Ok, avoid anything that could be linked with pirates, I thought. "All right, this song is called 'The 59th Street Bridge Song,' or 'Feelin' Groovy,' by Simon and Garfunkel," I said. I began to pluck away, gathering enough energy to sing in the suffocating dress.
Slow down, you move too fast.
You got to make the mornin' last.
Just kickin' down the cobblestones,
Lookin' for fun and feelin' groovy.
Ba da da da da da da, feelin' groovy.
Hello, lamppost, whatcha knowin'?
I come to watch your flowers growin'.
Ain'tcha got no rhymes for me?
Doo it doo doo, feelin' groovy.
Ba da da da da da da, feelin' groovy.
I got no deeds to do, no promises to keep.
I'm dappled and drowsy and ready to sleep
Let the morningtime drop all it's petals on me
Life, I love you, all is groovy!
Ba da da da da da da ba bap a dee...
I found myself smiling by the end of the song, happy. "What a pleasant song!" exclaimed Swann, as the light clapping ended. "I've never heard anything quite like it, but it is very catching. What do you think, Captain?" "I agree, sir, a very good song. And very well performed," he added. "Thank you," I nodded. "Sing another," Elizabeth begged. "I couldn't," I protested gently. "Most of the songs I know are not all that happy. There are a few that are, and a few classical songs, but I'm not all that good." I wasn't – despite what people said, it had been beaten into me that I wasn't good at anything. "I quite enjoyed it," Norrington complimented. I couldn't tell if he was truthful or being polite. "Perhaps tomorrow," Elizabeth said. "Captain Norrington," said a man servant, coming in with a bow, "this was just delivered for you." He produced a white envelope, unsealed. He took it, pulling out the note. There were a few moments of silence. "Governor, please excuse me, I must return to the fort. Something has come up, and the admiral has ordered my services," said Norrington. He rose, and we rose as well. Norrington kissed the backs of Elizabeth's and my hands with a bow, and left, going out into the dark night. To my surprise, I let out a giant yawn moments after he left the room. "So sorry, how rude of me," I said after the yawn had ended. "I am retiring for the evening," said Swann, bowing slightly. "Goodnight, to you both." "Goodnight, father," said Elizabeth. "Goodnight, Governor." I felt another yawn rising, this time managing to stifle it. "Will you teach me to play, and sing like you do?" Elizabeth asked me as we went upstairs together. "Yeah, sure, why not," I replied. "But you gotta show me around this place first. I have to work if I'm going to stay here, so I can get my own place until I find a way back home." "I don't want you to leave." "Why the hell not?" I snapped, turning to her. "Because I like you," she snapped back. "You're the only friend I've ever had on this damn island besides Will Turner, and I'm not allowed to socialize with him because he's a blacksmith!" "A ha. Well, there it is," I muttered, leaning on the railing and pushing myself up the stairs. "Yes, I'll teach you if you at least make an effort to help me find out what happened to me." "Agreed." That night, I slept soundly, dreaming of 18th century sailors on 21st century ships.
Disclaimer: all lyrics are from Simon and Garnfunkel's songs and are therefore not mine. Thanks to everyone who reviewed...sorry I haven't updated (school....)
Thinking it over, I've been sad
Thinking it over, I'd be more than glad To change my ways for the asking
Ask me and I will play All the love that I hold inside
The dress felt awkward, the corset tight and the dress silky. Elizabeth had lent me one of hers, a green one, shiny, with a little bit of lace around the collar. The sleeves extended to just above the elbow, another bit of lace around the cuffs. I had been dressed in undergarments, also lent by Elizabeth, and her servant did up my hair, putting hints of perfume over me. She knew enough about make-up to cover the still-healing scars and what remained of the bruises, which were now just little patches of black and blue. I felt extremely dressed up, stiff and sore in the dress and corset.
Following Elizabeth downstairs, I found myself in a greeting area with a stone floor. A small, circular table adorned with flowers sat in the middle of the room. Two rooms branched off from the waiting area, and a hallway continued to the other side of the house, the kitchens, etc. One room was the parlor, the other the dining room.
Governor Swann stood talking with Captain Norrington in front of the table in the greeting area. Both looked up as Elizabeth pulled me downstairs. Even though I had worn things similar to corsets before for my acting class, none of them had been as uncomfortable as this – it felt like my chest was about to cave in on me.
Governor Swann's face softened into a devoting smile as he saw Elizabeth. Captain Norrington glanced at her, his eyes moving to me. They stopped on me, widening slightly, and I could have sworn he gasped inaudibly, but in a flash Norrington resumed his state of stiff impassivity. The Governor offered his daughter his arm, and I was left with Norrington. I was surprised I hadn't fallen over yet from the sheer weight of the dress.
A servant pulled out a chair, and I gently sat down, surprised at how much the dress and seat cushioned my sore backside. The corset forced me to sit up straight, as well as making me hold me head a little more fixedly up. Swann sat at the head of the table, I on his left, Elizabeth on his left and Norrington beside Elizabeth. It was a nice dining room, grander than any I'd been in, with a polished mahogany table, wood floors, a small, modest chandelier, excellent silver and china, a side board, and some sort of wooden hanging with two swords going through. Other items littered the room, denoting the man's wealth and status, but I was quickly diverted by the bowl of soup placed in front of me. My mouth watered. I had never smelled anything so good in my life. Wine was poured into glasses, and water into a second, smaller glass. There was a quick blessing, and then the eating began. Nothing had ever tasted so good. Although I tried to remember my manners, it was very difficult to keep from picking up the bowl and slurping it all down at once.
"Miss Fitzgerald, I trust you are feeling better?" asked Swann.
"Yes, sir, thank you. I must confess, though, that I feel out-of- place here. I'm not used to all of this," I replied, motioning with my hand. "The soup is excellent, though, best I've ever had."
"You mentioned you were going to your uncle's home, in Virginia Beach," he commented. "Why there?"
"Well, he's the only family I've got, and he is better off and kinder than my parents, so I decided I may as well go where I'm accepted. I have friends in Virginia Beach. It was like a home until my parents forbid me to go there anymore."
"Why did they forbid you to go?" Norrington asked, leaning back as a servant took away the empty bowl.
"My father and my uncle hate each other like you wouldn't believe, and when my father found out how much time I was spending with my uncle, he basically threatened to kill me should I ever attempt to go there again."
"So what were you thinking when you left home, in hopes of reaching Virginia Beach without him knowing?"
"I wasn't heading directly for Virginia Beach. I was going to take a train to Charlottesville, then take a bus across Virginia to the coast, and hitch-hike the rest of the way. He can't trace me."
"What is this train and bus you speak of?" Swann asked.
"Modes of transportation. A bus is like a big carriage for a lot of people, and a train is like lots of buses, or carriages if you will, attached together which are attached to an engine that pulls them." Norrington glanced warily at Swann, and was probably thinking how crazy I sounded.
"What is Virginia Beach like?" Elizabeth asked, breaking the momentary awkward silence.
"It's a naval port. My uncle is in the navy, and is stationed there."
"Really?" said Norrington, suddenly interested. Another course was being set on the table, what looked like chicken and vegetables gourmet style.
"Yes. When I was young I would always go down to the docks and the base, hang out with my uncle and his officers and fellow crew members. It was always a lot of fun because they would let me poke around the ships, and generally go anywhere I liked as long as I didn't touch anything I wasn't supposed to. I was his command's mascot." I grinned, remembering my uncle's sharp, stern, but kind reprimands and instructions before letting me go exploring. "I must say that I learned more about the ocean and the navy there than I ever did in school."
"Are naval ports very different in 2004?" Norrington asked.
"Compared to the ones now? I don't know. I've never been to an 18th century port. I've only seen pictures of them, so I couldn't really make a fair judgment."
"Perhaps you might come down to the docks one day, I would be happy to show you around or have one of my men give you a tour."
"I would like that very, very much, Captain. Thank you for the offer. Any special time or day?"
"In two days time, about noon, shall we say? The guard changes then. That shall leave time for you to see the rest of Port Royal."
"Agreed." I gave a happy smile, managing to quell my excitement to that. Swann was eyeing Norrington curiously, questioningly, but Elizabeth looked relieved. The second course was eaten, equally as delicious as the first, and then we moved across the hall into the parlor for coffee or liquor. As we moved into the room, which was painted a deep green with giant drapes, Elizabeth said,
"Father, that instrument you saw earlier is a guitar. It's Fiona's. She was playing it when I visited her. It's quite pretty."
"You play music, then?" Swann said, smiling as he sat in the chair closest to the fire, which had been built up in the large fireplace.
"Yes, classical and other kinds. Mozart is my favorite composer."
"Mozart?" Swann said, obviously having no clue who I was talking about. "Who is he?" "Oh, just someone who is quite famous in Europe right now. He's only just come out," I said as I mentally kicked myself as I remembered the year. He wasn't dead yet. Heck, he was only 9 now. "But I enjoy Haydn's music as well, as well as Bach. I adore his cello suites." "Oh, yes, excellent composers, both. Bach's music has a passion that you seldom hear anywhere else. Have you heard...." "Father, perhaps we might inquire after the music of Fiona's home," interrupted Elizabeth softly, putting her hand in his. "She seems to have an understanding of classical, but I heard her singing something I was unfamiliar with." She looked to me. "Would you mind playing us something?" she requested excitedly. "If your father and Captain Norrington do not mind, then I shall, if you like." "I am interested to see how this instrument of yours works," Swann confessed. "When I saw it I did wonder what it was." "I'll go get it, then," I said, beginning to rise. "No, I'll have one of the servants get it." He rang a bell, and a young girl was sent upstairs. What am I going to sing? What do I know on the guitar? Something happy, uplifting, or they'll think I'm permanently depressed. The girl soon returned with the guitar, by which time I had decided to stick with Simon and Garfunkel or Bob Dylan. "What would you like to hear?" I asked, making sure the guitar was tuned. "Anything you like," Elizabeth said, her eyes bright. "Do you know any pirate songs?" "Elizabeth!" reprimanded Swann, and Norrington jerked his eyes to her, appearing surprised and shocked. Ok, avoid anything that could be linked with pirates, I thought. "All right, this song is called 'The 59th Street Bridge Song,' or 'Feelin' Groovy,' by Simon and Garfunkel," I said. I began to pluck away, gathering enough energy to sing in the suffocating dress.
Slow down, you move too fast.
You got to make the mornin' last.
Just kickin' down the cobblestones,
Lookin' for fun and feelin' groovy.
Ba da da da da da da, feelin' groovy.
Hello, lamppost, whatcha knowin'?
I come to watch your flowers growin'.
Ain'tcha got no rhymes for me?
Doo it doo doo, feelin' groovy.
Ba da da da da da da, feelin' groovy.
I got no deeds to do, no promises to keep.
I'm dappled and drowsy and ready to sleep
Let the morningtime drop all it's petals on me
Life, I love you, all is groovy!
Ba da da da da da da ba bap a dee...
I found myself smiling by the end of the song, happy. "What a pleasant song!" exclaimed Swann, as the light clapping ended. "I've never heard anything quite like it, but it is very catching. What do you think, Captain?" "I agree, sir, a very good song. And very well performed," he added. "Thank you," I nodded. "Sing another," Elizabeth begged. "I couldn't," I protested gently. "Most of the songs I know are not all that happy. There are a few that are, and a few classical songs, but I'm not all that good." I wasn't – despite what people said, it had been beaten into me that I wasn't good at anything. "I quite enjoyed it," Norrington complimented. I couldn't tell if he was truthful or being polite. "Perhaps tomorrow," Elizabeth said. "Captain Norrington," said a man servant, coming in with a bow, "this was just delivered for you." He produced a white envelope, unsealed. He took it, pulling out the note. There were a few moments of silence. "Governor, please excuse me, I must return to the fort. Something has come up, and the admiral has ordered my services," said Norrington. He rose, and we rose as well. Norrington kissed the backs of Elizabeth's and my hands with a bow, and left, going out into the dark night. To my surprise, I let out a giant yawn moments after he left the room. "So sorry, how rude of me," I said after the yawn had ended. "I am retiring for the evening," said Swann, bowing slightly. "Goodnight, to you both." "Goodnight, father," said Elizabeth. "Goodnight, Governor." I felt another yawn rising, this time managing to stifle it. "Will you teach me to play, and sing like you do?" Elizabeth asked me as we went upstairs together. "Yeah, sure, why not," I replied. "But you gotta show me around this place first. I have to work if I'm going to stay here, so I can get my own place until I find a way back home." "I don't want you to leave." "Why the hell not?" I snapped, turning to her. "Because I like you," she snapped back. "You're the only friend I've ever had on this damn island besides Will Turner, and I'm not allowed to socialize with him because he's a blacksmith!" "A ha. Well, there it is," I muttered, leaning on the railing and pushing myself up the stairs. "Yes, I'll teach you if you at least make an effort to help me find out what happened to me." "Agreed." That night, I slept soundly, dreaming of 18th century sailors on 21st century ships.
Disclaimer: all lyrics are from Simon and Garnfunkel's songs and are therefore not mine. Thanks to everyone who reviewed...sorry I haven't updated (school....)