Chapter 7
The next few days seemed to Billy to be remarkably dull. His parents made him go back to school, with the excuse for his absence that he had been ill - an excuse easily accepted by the schoolmaster who ruled over the little class of Port Royal boys. But he found it hard to concentrate on Latin and mathematics when he thought of Jack Sparrow and the pirates aboard the Black Pearl.
Will Turner had come home that first night with a pinched look about his mouth, and Billy had overheard his parents discussing something to do with chisels in an undertone in the hallway. The next evening, Billy did not see his father, and Elizabeth said that he had stayed late to work on Norrington's commission. The day after that, Will returned to the Turner house with the news that the Black Pearl had sailed.
"Did you get …" began Elizabeth, before catching sight of Billy watching them. "Billy, sweetheart, could you fetch me my book?"
He left the room slowly, trying to catch the end of her sentence. But both his parents had dropped their voices.
Billy, however, was not stupid. He had a fair idea that after he and Will had left the forge, Sparrow had somehow got back in and taken the tools he wanted; and that despite a visit to the hidden bay Will had failed to get the things back.
The following day was a Sunday. As usual the Turners went to church in the morning, and listened to a long and dull sermon by the vicar about the evils of avarice. In the afternoon, after an excellent lunch cooked by Estrella, Billy went into the garden behind and climbed into the treehouse his father had built for him a few years earlier. He found he wanted to think about what Jack Sparrow had said - remember where you come from.
Until the pirate had appeared on the doorstep, Billy had thought he had a fairly good idea where he came from. There was his mother, and his grandfather, who were rich; and his father, who was not. He knew that his grandfather, Governor Swann, was the son of an English baronet, and had been in Jamaica for twenty years as governor. Billy's mother's mother had died of a fever before Swann brought the young Elizabeth to the Caribbean. Though he had not met them Billy knew he had several great-aunts and great-uncles, not to mention second cousins and other assorted relatives, back in England.
His father, meanwhile, was an orphan, and Billy had been told the story of how his parents met on several occasions. Elizabeth had been the one to spot the boy floating on a spar, the only survivor of a dreadful shipwreck, and the pair were inseparable until Will was apprenticed to Port Royal's blacksmith. From comments he had overheard, Billy was aware that many people considered Elizabeth had married beneath her station. All he cared about was that his father loved his mother, and she loved him - and this was indubitably true.
But Jack Sparrow's revelation that Will's father had been a pirate, and the information that Elizabeth had almost married Commodore Norrington, had rather upset Billy's small universe. Now he found himself reflecting on the visit to the Black Pearl, majestic despite her injuries, and the compelling figure of her captain. Billy had liked the ship; he had enjoyed climbing the mast and had even found something oddly satisfying in cleaning the brass.
Remember where you come from.
Had he enjoyed his time on the ship because it was a day out, something different? Or had he enjoyed it because of something in his blood?
Did he really want to be a blacksmith?
Billy swung his legs over the edge of the treehouse and considered the problem. The worst of it was, he reflected, that there was nobody he could really ask for help. His parents would be appalled if he even broached the subject of being a sailor. Commodore Norrington might encourage a naval career, but Billy knew he could not breathe the words "Jack Sparrow" in his presence.
He thought of the forge, and the heat it generated; of the sweat beading on his father's forehead as he wielded his hammer; of the callouses on his palm.
And he thought of the wind in his hair as he sat on the Black Pearl's fighting top; of the easy camaraderie of the crew; of the sensation of the ship beneath his feet.
Billy pulled a bit of string from his pocket and began to tie it in knots. Clove-hitch, reef-knot, bowline. The knots kept slipping, however, and after a short while he threw the string down. He would never get the chance to go to sea, anyway; there was no point even dreaming about it.
Somehow, having considered the issues and put them aside, it was easier to think of the day with Jack Sparrow as just a short adventure, nothing more. Billy settled back into school and watching his father in the forge, wondering occasionally where the Black Pearl might be but not dwelling on the question.
Three weeks went by. Will and Elizabeth relaxed, safe in the knowledge that Sparrow had sailed away, and began to tell Billy about the pirate captain. For the first time he heard the story of the cursed Aztec gold from them - he decided not to tell them that Jack Sparrow had already told him the tale. He heard also about the clandestine visits Sparrow had made to Port Royal to visit in the years after the Aztec adventure. Elizabeth explained that those visits ceased abruptly and the Turners had not heard from Jack Sparrow since then; they had given him up for dead, and had settled down to their comfortable, respectable lives.
"I think we grew out of adventures," Elizabeth said, the evening she and Will told Billy about Sparrow's last visit. "Really, it was quite a bother keeping him a secret from everyone, and he will take risks."
Will smiled, ruefully. "Sometimes I wonder if he thinks himself invincible," he said.
"He's very good at what he does," Elizabeth mused. "And I think he enjoys the risks."
"Of course he enjoys them," said Will. "It's one of the reasons he won't take a letter of marque."
"Actually, I think he doesn't want to work with James," Elizabeth said. "And why should he? James has, after all, spent most of the last ten years hunting Jack down."
"So what would happen if Captain Sparrow came to visit again?" asked Billy curiously. "Would you let him in?"
Elizabeth sighed. "I don't know, Billy. The problem with Jack is that he tends to find a way of getting in if you don't let him in. But I don't think he'll be back, not soon at any rate." She smiled at him. "I'm sorry, the excitement's all over."
He smiled back. "It's all right."
Will looked up from the book he had turned to. "If it helps compensate for the lack of Jack Sparrow, Billy, I thought I'd start teaching you fencing next week."
"Really?"
"Really. You're old enough, now."
The prospect of learning to use a sword buoyed Billy's mood, and he began to count down the days to his first lesson the following Sunday.
The Friday beforehand, Billy left home in the morning for school having promised to meet his mother at the Governor's residence for tea in the afternoon. His father had already gone to the forge, intent on completing the last sword for Commodore Norrington before the day was out. It was a beautiful day, with a breeze cooling the hot sunshine, and Billy swung his bag as he wandered along the street. His mind wandered; from the fencing lesson to the day's schoolwork to what might be on the tea table that afternoon. He hoped there would be cake.
So it was somewhat of a shock to have his arm gripped by an unseen hand and to be pulled into an alleyway.
"Shhh!" said a voice, as Billy prepared to yell.
Billy turned to see who had grabbed him. "Mr Gibbs?" he said.
The grizzled sailor nodded. "Aye."
"How's your head?" asked Billy, remembering that when he was aboard the Black Pearl Gibbs had been laid up after having hit his head.
"Better," said Gibbs, tapping his forehead with a fist. "Doc fixed me up. Now, lad. 'Spect you're wondering what I'm doing 'ere."
"I was," admitted Billy. "Where's the …"
"Don't mention the ship," Gibbs cut in quickly. "Never know who might be list'ning." He bent down, and lowered his voice. "I've a message from the cap'n. He wants to know if you've thought about what he said."
Nodding, Billy said, "I did."
"And he says," Gibbs went on, "that we're after a cabin boy. And he reckons nobody but the grandson of Bootstrap Bill will do." He eyed Billy sideways-on. "We are after a cabin boy," he said. "We picked one up in Tortuga couple o' weeks ago, but he spent ten days being sick so we dumped the lad."
"Dumped him?" said Billy, horrified.
"In Tortuga," explained Gibbs. "Not over the side. So how about it?"
Billy said nothing. He was not quite sure what to say. Gibbs's casual dismissal of the cabin boy had abruptly reminded him of something Jack Sparrow had said to him. "What your mother can't understand is that piracy's a mite dirtier than her little pamphlets'll make it out to be."
Gibbs raised a pair of bushy eyebrows. "Well, boy?"
"Can I think about it?" Billy asked, in a rush. "I mean … I don't know … Papa's going to teach me to fight, and there's Mama, too, she wouldn't like me going to sea …" He looked up at Gibbs. "I don't know, sir."
"There, there." Gibbs patted his shoulder, understandingly. "Cap'n thought you'd say that. He says, if you're willing, you're to meet me by the crossroads near your house tomorrow mornin', sunrise. With some clothes and that. A jacket, and a hat, and spare breeches and a shirt. It can get a mite mucky at sea."
"All right." Billy nodded. "I'll think about it."
Gibbs grinned. "Good lad. Remember nobody'll think the worse o' ye if you don't come." He made to go, but paused. "Last thing. If you do go, leave this for your ma and pa."
Billy took the piece of folded parchment Gibbs held out.
"Means they'd blame Jack, not you," Gibbs explained. "Right then. Maybe I'll see you tomorrow, lad."
He slipped off down the alleyway. Billy looked down at the parchment and unfolded it. On it were a few words in a bold, sloping hand marred by several ink blotches.
"Mr & Mrs Turner; finding myself in need of a cabin boy I've made bold to choose young William. Piracy's in his blood and it's time you squared with that. JS."
Thoughtfully, Billy tucked the note away in his jacket and continued on to school.