Drink up me earties, yo ho.
"Hey, Sicklefreed," Jack yelled from his corner of the bar. Timothy was on the other side and didn't hear Jack ruin his name. This caused Jack to yell louder. "Timothy, you bloody whelp, get over here." Timothy heard this and shot a glare at Jack before excusing himself from his table.
"Jack, My name is Timothy Sickleford, not Sicklefreed, not bloody whelp."
"Aye, have a seat, yea bloody whelp," Jack patted the seat next to him with his free hand, drinking rum with his other. Timothy sighed. Jack slammed his bottle down and asked Timothy, "What do ye smell when Miss is around."
"Wot are you talking about?"
"When you first came here, or anytime Miss is in the room, what do ye smell?"
Timothy thought about this for a moment then smiled. "My wife's perfume. I've been so used to it, I almost forgot."
Another at the table who was listening, a carpenter, piped in, "I smell cedar, sometimes redwood."
"Wot you lot talkin' bout, eh," another asked, a woman.
"Miss. We were talking about what we smell when she's around.
"Ah," she said. "I smell the coals that used to keep my bed warm in winter."
"Does anyone know why this happens," Timothy asked, not waiting for Jack to. Jack liked not having to drive the conversation.
"Never thought about it, really." The whole table was now quiet, trying to figure out what all this could mean and wondering why Jack thought of it.
It was then that they all took a deep breath for they all smelled what they described. Miss was at the cupboard, taking out her three bottles of rum.
"Miss," one man a crossed the room, where Timothy was before sitting with Jack.
"Not tonight, good sir. Not tonight.' No one else tried to hail her down as she walked out.
"She's thinking of him," said one of the whore's at Jack's table.
"Who," asked another. All at the table listened as the whore told the story.
"Miss, has been here the longest. Miss is the reason many believe it is bad luck to have a woman on board a ship. She stowed away on a navy ship. You see, her lover was a sailor. She wanted to be with him, but he said it was too dangerous. She went to find him. She was found after a few days at sea. The men on that ship treated her poorly. It made even the worst pirates look decent. Upon her lover's ship they came, under fire by pirates. She begged the captain of the ship to help them, but he refused. They say her hate grew so strong that even the pirates could feel it in their bones. The pirates left her lover's ship to attack the one she was on and all were lost to the outside world. Many came here, including Miss. Those who made it back out told what 'appened which is why to this day men, no matter what colors they fly, dread having a woman on their ship."
None spoke as they digested the story thoroughly. One man finally broke the silence and asked if the whore knew Miss' real name.
"From wot I heard, she hasn't told anyone. If she has told, no one would say."
Jack took another rum from the cupboard before leaving. He replayed the story he heard of Miss in his head, trying to find what was true and what wasn't. He walked out only to be overwhelmed with the smell of the helm, of his desire for Davy Jones' heart, the black pearl, Aztec gold. It was then that he noticed Miss leaning her side against the wall of the cave, with her back to Jack, just outside the bar. She hadn't heard Jack and he was so overwhelmed by the scent of all his adventures that he placed his hands on her shoulders and leaned his face into her hair. He took in a deep breath and smelled the scent of the pearl, and of the horizon; of freedom.
When he let out his breath, he whispered, "Drink up, me earties, yo ho."
