Chapter 4
Billy stood at the bottom of the foremast and looked upwards. It seemed a very long way to the top.
By his side, Jack Sparrow smiled down at him. The pirate had taken off his hat, jacket, waistcoat and weapons and was dressed simply in shirt and breeches, a scarf keeping his hair back off his face.
"What you've got t' remember," he said, "is not to let go. Always have three bits o' you attached to the ship, savvy? Two hands and a foot, or two feet and a hand." He demonstrated by waving one foot in the air while pretending to hang on to rigging with his hands, and then put the foot down and waved a hand around. "That's what'll stop you falling. And please don't fall - I don't want your mum and dad after me."
"I don't want to fall," Billy said, sure of this at least. "So how high are we going?"
"For starters," said Sparrow, squinting up, "we'll get you to the fighting top. That's the handy little platform up there. Nice and solid, and nice and safe. Once you've been up and down once or twice we'll see about headin' higher."
Billy nodded. That sounded all right. "So I follow you?" he checked.
"You follow me."
Sparrow climbed up on to the side of the ship and swung himself round on to the shrouds, strung like netting to the masts. He gave Billy a last reassuring grin and set off, moving quickly up the ropes.
Taking a deep breath, and wiping hands that were suddenly sticky on his breeches, Billy followed. He fixed his eyes on the ropes in front of him, trying to look only up at the man above him and not down at the dark, hard deck and deep waters that would greet him if he fell.
He was concentrating so hard on the climb that he barely noticed he was almost at the fighting top. The platform was reached through a hole next to the mast, and Sparrow was waiting for Billy next to it. The pirate reached through the hole and grasped his arm firmly to help him up.
"Hang on to that rope," Sparrow instructed, pointing out the rope that went around the edge of the platform. "Now, look at the view!"
Billy looked, and gaped. He had climbed above the lowest sail on the foremast, and was looking down at the deck - a very long way below. He could see the pirates at work on the mizzenmast, and if he looked upwards there were more men busy at the top of the foremast. If he looked ahead, towards the bow of the Black Pearl, the wide open sea lay before him; behind was the green of the island.
"What d'you reckon?" asked Sparrow, who was standing easily on the platform as if it were solid ground.
"It's … it's marvellous!" said Billy. He peered down at the sail below, which was neatly furled. "How do you get to that, sir?"
"You stop a bit below the platform and walk across," Sparrow said, pointing out a rope attached to the shrouds and to the yard-arm. "Then there's another line for y'r feet, and you hang on to the yard."
"Oh." Billy tried to see, and was not quite sure he did. "Right."
Sparrow laughed. "You'd get the hang of it if you tried," he said. "Took me a few goes to feel right at home up here, but it wasn't long."
"How old were you when you first went to sea?" Billy questioned.
"Me?" Sparrow frowned. "Bit older than you, lad. Twelve? Don't rightly recall." He was on the brink of saying something else, but a call of "Cap'n!" from above their heads stopped him. He turned to Billy. "Now. Hang on there, don't try and go anywhere, don't let go, all right? I'm popping up to find out what the lads want." He paused, one hand on the next set of shrouds heading upwards. "Don't do anything stupid - just enjoy the view?"
Billy, hanging on to ropes as he did so, sat down carefully and watched as the pirate climbed catlike on up towards the top of the mast. If he leant back and squinted he could watch the men at work up there; could watch Sparrow edge out on to the yard to examine their handicraft. But it made him dizzy, so he sat up again and looked at the island instead.
Shortly, he was joined again on the fighting top by Sparrow, who wiped his brow with his sleeve and gave a last look up.
"Should be fixed by night," he said. "Had enough yet? Hungry?"
"Starving!" said Billy, discovering he was ravenous.
"Good. There's fish."
Back down on deck Billy followed Sparrow into his cabin and watched as the pirate splashed his face and neck with water and slipped on several large rings he had taken off in order to climb the rigging. Then they made their way to the mess, where most of the crew had already gathered. The cook and another man were hauling a large pot of something fragrant and fishy on to a table, and there was a cheerful clatter of plates.
Sparrow slid into a seat, Billy taking the one next to him. He found he was seated opposite a very small man with a bald head and his left arm in a sling, who grinned cheerfully enough and introduced himself as Marty.
"Billy Turner," said Billy.
"How's the arm?" asked Sparrow.
Marty shrugged, accepting a plate of fish stew with his good arm. "Doin' well enough, cap'n. Doc says it'll heal."
"Only if you promise not to go climbing," put in another voice. Billy looked around at the newcomer who had taken a seat by his side. "Good afternoon, young man."
"Good afternoon, sir."
Sparrow waved a spoon in the other man's direction. "Mr Piper, ship's surgeon."
"Captain Sparrow." The surgeon passed plates down the table. "Your first mate should be well enough to get up soon."
"So he told me."
Billy picked up his spoon and tasted the stew. It proved to be excellent, hot and savoury and spicy with plenty of fish, and he dug in with gusto and listened to Sparrow discussing the health of his men with the doctor. Around him there was a deal of chatter and laughter - the crew of the Black Pearl seemed to be a cheerful lot. By his side, Sparrow's hands painted patterns in the air.
He was chewing a bit of bread when the surgeon turned to him. "So what brings you aboard the Black Pearl, young man? Looking for a post as a cabin boy?"
Shaking his head, Billy swallowed the bread.
"No, sir. My parents are … well, my parents know Captain Sparrow."
"I sailed with his granddad," put in Sparrow, leaning over.
"You're not looking for a new cabin boy, then?" asked Piper.
"Dunno," Sparrow said. "If one should turn up, maybe." He shot Billy a calculating sort of look.
"I'm going to be a blacksmith," Billy told the doctor, in case Sparrow should start getting ideas. "Like my father. I'm just visiting, today."
The doctor took a sip of water. "Hold on to that thought," he said. "A few weeks ago I was happily aboard a very lovely merchant vessel …"
"She was lovely," Sparrow said, with a glint in his eye.
"… when we sighted a pirate ship, with black sails, on the horizon. Tried to outrun it, I believe, and I readied my equipment in case of injuries."
"But you couldn't outrun us," said Sparrow proudly.
Little Marty leaned across the table, as if confiding a secret. "This is the fastest ship in the Caribbean," he said.
Sighing, Piper nodded. "As we found to our cost. Captain Sparrow here and his men promptly caught us up, boarded us, and carted off half the ship's goods and myself."
"Didn't you get a choice?" asked Billy, fascinated.
"Course he didn't get a choice, lad," Sparrow said. "We needed a surgeon. There he was."
Billy digested the information as the doctor excused himself and left the table. He was unsure whether or not he should feel sorry for Piper - although he had been taken aboard against his will, the surgeon did not appear to be too upset about his change in fortune.
"Don't go and get all moral on me like your dad," said Sparrow, breaking into Billy's thoughts. "He will try and be sensible."
"He has a business to run," Billy said defensively, not liking the pirate belittling his father.
"Aye, and I've a ship to sail and men to feed and look after." Sparrow stood up. "What your dear papa can't get used to, even after all these years, is that the money and the bits 'n bobs he got off his dad came from this." He waved an arm in the air, encompassing the ship. "And what your mother can't understand is that piracy's a mite dirtier than her little pamphlets'll make it out to be, savvy?"
Billy followed him out of the mess and up on to the deck, where the crew had all returned to work.
"So why're you friends with them?" he asked. "Actually, how did you meet them? And why did the Commodore try and hang you?"
Sparrow turned wide, black-lined eyes on him. "You mean t'say they've never told you?"
"No." He trotted after the captain across the deck. "They never mentioned you."
Sparrow straightened from pulling something out of a chest on deck, and handed Billy a tin of some smelly paste and an old rag.
"Well, there's a proper tale to tell you," he said. "But not now. If we're to get away as soon as I'd like there's a deal o' work to be done, and I reckon you could help out, if you're willing. If you could go round the ship and polish the bits o' brass, I'll give you the story after dinner. Most of the men haven't heard it either. We'll have a proper tale-telling, and a ration of rum, and you can find out just how the lovely Miss Elizabeth Swann was saved from drownin' by a gallant pirate captain, and how said pirate captain then helped her young blacksmith suitor save her from a bunch of murderous mutinous traitors." He raised his eyebrows. "All right?"
Clutching the rag and tin, Billy nodded. "All right."
"We have an accord!" exclaimed Sparrow with satisfaction, holding his hand out for Billy to shake. "Go on then, lad, get to the polishing. And I want to see me teeth in that brass when you're done."
He displayed the teeth for Billy, and then turned on his heel and disappeared off to the helm.
Billy found the first brass plaque, opened the tin, and settled down to a hard afternoon's work.