Thicker Than Water – Chapter Thirteen – May I Call You Becky?
"She's definitely your daughter, Jack," said Gibbs, as the two watched Rebecca head down below.
"Pity." said Jack.
"Yes, best not get too attached. You took meeting her well, though."
"What was there to not take well? The shock of learning I had a daughter came and went. I was acting that whole time, anyway. Besides, she's not even like me." said Jack.
"You seem disappointed," said Gibbs, staring at Jack's face, now looking at the floor.
"Well, if I'm going to have a child, I might as well have something in common with them," Jack snapped. Why was he being to irritable about this?
"She came, didn't she?"
"Yes, well, that's just about where our similarities end."
"I suppose in time she would become more like you—but we mustn't be talking about this. We have to stick to the plan."
"You're right. Forget I said anything. It's better she's not like me." That was a complete lie. Why had Jack been so excited to meet her? Why had he been so disappointed? Jack was becoming less and less sure of his plan. She was his daughter, after all…
The next morning, everyone was up at dawn. Jack had to send Elizabeth into Rebecca's quarters to nearly pry Rebecca out of bed, but eventually she got up as well. And then they were off.
The Black Pearl, being the fastest ship in the sea, could get to Tortuga in nine hours flat if the winds were right. Jack examined the weather conditions and determined that they would be lucky if they could get there in ten hours. Best get a move on.
Rebecca had eagerly approached him as the ship set sail.
"What am I to do, Father?"
Jack cringed. He still wasn't used to this whole "parenting" thing.
"Call me Jack. 'Father' makes me sound…" Stupid? Cowardly? Sensitive? "…Old." He said, and gave her a nervous smile. "And what may I call you, Rebecca? Beck? Becky? May I call you Becky?"
Rebecca rolled her eyes. "Only if I can call you Jacky."
Jack cringed. "Beck, it is, then."
Rebecca lifted her finger to protest, but Jack continued.
"So then, Beck, this being your first day as crewman—err crewwoman?…crewlady.…crewfemale?—anyway being your first day, I shall let you steer the ship."
He instructed her to put her hands on the wheel. "You see that black dot on the horizon?"
Rebecca squinted. "…No"
"Good. Steer towards it. Have fun now." Jack started to walk away.
Rebecca rushed up to him, leaving the wheel unmanned. Jack turned and grabbed the wheel to keep it on course. "Rule number one," He said. "Never leave the wheel, ever, without slipping this rope onto one of the handles." Jack showed Rebecca a noose-like rope that he slipped onto the farthest handle it could reach. "Now, what is it?"
"Jack. Jacky." Rebecca smirked. "I just wanted to thank you for letting me join your crew. I know how strange it must be for you, meeting your daughter for the first time and all."
"Yes, very strange." Jack said and then turned on his heel and walked away.
Not quite the reply she was hoping for…But Rebecca walked back over to the wheel, slipped off the rope, and started to steer.
Jack watched Rebecca from a distance. She steered the ship lazily, moving her body side to side with the waves, just as Jack does. Now, there's my daughter. Jack thought.
This isn't so bad, thought Rebecca, steering the ship. It had been about a half an hour and nothing bad had happened. I suppose there isn't much to this steering thing.
"Prepare to come about!" shouted Jack.
Prepare to what! Rebecca didn't know what to do. She let go of the wheel and let it spin. The boat slowly came to a stop. Come about? Was that a nautical term for stopping?
All eyes were on Rebecca. They stared at her, frustrated. Perhaps not.
Jack walked over to Gibbs. "What just happened?"
"We're in irons Cap'n. Tell that girl to learn to steer."
Jack walked up to Rebecca, clearly frustrated. "Did I not tell you never to let go of the wheel?"
"Well, I—" Rebecca started to say.
"Move," Jack said. He grabbed the wheel and turned it all the way to one side. The wind was blowing directly at them, causing the boat to drift backwards. Because Jack was turning the wheel, the boat backed up at an angle. The dead sails once again filled with wind and the boat started to move foreword once more.
Rebecca watched, intrigued. Jack did it so effortlessly, so fluidly. She wanted to be able to do that; to understand a ship and maneuver it as easily as he did. Rebecca had a newfound respect for Jack now.