The Sighted

Chapter 5

A Proposition

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Jack, standing tall, glared down at an unfortunate cabin boy, Tommy.

"What in Christ's name possessed you to get so close to that bloody beach, Tommy!" the Captain demanded angrily.

It had been somewhat of a mystery how the blind woman, Mabel, and her savage dog, Royce, had gotten so close to the camp, especially since Jack had made note to threaten the woman upon their first meeting (whether or not the threat was valid no one really knew). After she and her vicious dog had left the makeshift camp, Jack had whirled on his crew like a thunderstorm, demanding who had been foolish enough to lead the dog there.

As luck would have it, Tommy, the youngest and dearest member of the Black Pearl's crew, had meekly raised his hand. That had led Jack into a bit of an inner debate with himself.

A punishment had to be dished out. As Captain, Jack was well aware of his duty to make certain that no one would disobey his orders, and as he recalled, he had asked no one to scout the beach leading up the Browning household. But somehow, the wretched dog had raced into camp, lead by a scent trail, no doubt.

It was his job to find the perpetrator and deal with him (or her, although he doubted Anamaria would do such a foolish thing).

But he couldn't very well flog the young lad, could he? Tommy was already a painfully thin boy, wiry and small, and seemed to be deathly afraid of pain. As he recalled, when the boy had been injured in his first raid, he'd screamed bloody murder as they'd wrapped a small wound on his arm. He'd been in a heap of tears for weeks afterwards with the pain.

"I-I be s-sorry sir, I was jus' keepin' a lookout, I was. Then tha' b-b-big d-dog came outta nowhere…" Tommy stuttered, ashamed.

His glare softened somewhat as he noticed Tommy seemed to be trembling on rock he sat on. It was just out of the crew's way.

Sighing and glancing over his camp, he sought out a person with his eyes.

It was Anamaria, and she cocked an eyebrow at him before spouting off one more shrill order and heading over to her Captain. Jack waited patiently until she was standing by his side, eyeing the boy curiously.

"Tommy." Jack caught the boy's attention before cocking his head to the only woman on his crew. "Anamaria here'll take you for the day. You're to do anything she wishes without a word o' complaint, savvy?" He lofted a brow in question

Anamaria frowned. "Is this the rat who led that chit an' her overgrown mutt here?"

"Aye," Jack nodded, and turned his eye to Tommy. "Savvy, lad?"

Tommy nodded shakily, his gaze fixed on the fierce woman. "S-savvy, sir," he answered meekly and slid from the rock.

"Good," Jack smiled the slightest before halting Anamaria as she moved to leave. "Feel free to give him work meant for two. The lad's willing."

Anamaria nodded shortly. "Aye, Cap'n." Then, she snatched Tommy by the back of his collar and propelled him forward.

Clearly, Jack wasn't the only one who was upset with the boy. He knew, however, that Anamaria would give him fair work. Tommy was, after all, somewhat of a son to them all.

Heaving a sigh, Jack turned to stare at his Pearl where she lay stranded in the white sand. The crew were making progress but were on short supply for good wood. As they'd been limping badly after being attacked, they'd had to rid the ship of any weight to keep afloat. Half their supply of repair wood as well as a good many tools and cannons had been tossed overboard.

He watched as several of his men struggled to get a fire going to burn the pitch needed to patch up the Black Pearl

Jack decided they needed the hand of a seasoned expert, and he shed his captain's coat and hat without another thought, rolling up his sleeves as he approached the group.

٭

Thankfully, it hadn't been Mabel's mother who had found her as she made her way into the house, but her sister. Joyce was worried, yes, because the blind woman had been gone for over an hour and when she finally arrived home her dress was imbedded with twigs and sand and leaves were in her hair. Nonetheless, Joyce said not a word to their mother the whole day, which gave Mabel some time to think for herself.

She'd sat herself down in the middle of the kitchens and began to contemplate and thoroughly chew over her past few days. This, when it came to Mabel, was rarely a good thing.

Now, she could hardly believe that she had been so terrified of 'John Smith' upon their first meeting!

And, she had since arrived at a rather ambitious yet outlandish conclusion about the fellow.

This John Smith was really Captain Jack Sparrow of the Black Pearl, which he obviously had hidden in his campsite for repairs after his battle with a pirate ship and the navy vessel, Intrepid, which her brother had been aboard as Lieutenant.

Could it be true? Mabel thought so, and drudged up from her memory all the recollection she had of the name Jack Sparrow. He was, of course, a pirate, and rather feared one at that—although not because of his ruthlessness. Mabel recalled that he was more known for his swift and silent attacks followed by the robbing of anyone and anything onboard, and the irritation it provided the Commodore.

And then, of course, there was the matter of the incident several months back. The Governor Swann's only child, Elizabeth, had been snatched up from her house after a particularly violent pirate raid. As the story went, an ordinary blacksmith of the name Will Turner had broken Jack Sparrow from jail and together they had stolen a ship to pursue Elizabeth and the pirates. True to his word, Jack Sparrow had aided Will Turner and they rescued Elizabeth (with some help from the navy, she'd heard) before returning to Port Royal. The Commodore had imprisoned the pirate once again, but on the day of his hanging, he had escaped to his ship.

None in the navy had set sight on him until the incident several days back when the Commodore finally caught up to him.

And, as far as Mabel knew, Elizabeth Swann and William Turner had married. There had been a grand wedding, one that her mother, sister and brother had attended, and the Turner's had moved into a large mansion on the hill overlooking the harbour. It was deliciously scandalous, Mabel thought, yet most of the Port Royal citizens gazed upon the love struck couple with adoration.

Mabel didn't know if the three, Sparrow, Swan and Turner had kept in touch, but she was willing to believe that they would help him.

And herself? She asked herself why she was willing to do such a thing for a man she didn't even know. Why was she willing to help him? Why not turn the dirty pirate in and do the stuffy Commodore a favour?

"Miss Mabel?" a voice interrupted her thinking, and she jolted slightly on her stool where she sat in the kitchen.

"I didn't mean to startle you but it serves you right for daydreamin' like that!"

Mabel realized belatedly that Wallace, the head chef, was speaking to her. She was perched onchair, leaning on a counterby the exit, right in the middle of everything. She had plunged deep into thought as the cooks bustled on about her, the smell of spicy food wafting around the large room, and hadn't noticed until Wallace interrupted her.

She turned her attention to the old man, who was standing before her. "My apologies, Wallace. My mind was wandering."

"Ahh…well, you're going to have to daydream somewhere else, Miss," he told her politely, yet in a clipped tone that told her he didn't particularly want her in the middle of things. "Supper's in an hour."

"Oh!" Maybe exclaimed. Had she really spent most her afternoon in the kitchen? "I'm sorry, I didn't even realize…" She stood up from her seat andexited the kitchen hurriedly, Wallace's voice calling out behind her.

"Much obliged, Miss!

Once outside, Mabel stood a moment in silence. Her thoughts that had been left behind with the suddeninterruption were finding their way back to her. That done, she then began to navigate her way around the house and climbed the twenty-two steps up to the second floor. Joyce's room, which was roughly thirty-five steps down the hallway to Mabel's right, was her destination. She had a proposition for her younger sister.

As she reached the door and lifted her hand to knock, the blind woman heard a light humming from inside. It was Joyce, which was strangely curious. Mabel had never pinned her sister to be the humming sort.

She rapped twice on the solid wood of the door and it swung open seconds later. She was yanked into the room.

Slamming the door quickly, Joyce continued to hum merrily, catching Mabel by the hands and swung them both around in a mock waltz. The blind woman let out a short shout of surprise, stumbling as her sister twirled her about the large room.

Mabel decided she'd had enough. "What in the world are you doing?" she demanded sharply, bringing them both to a halt.

"I, dear sister, have decided that I'm in love!" the younger girl exclaimed ecstatically, dropping her sister's hands.

It took Mabel a moment to regain her footing before straightening her skirts, a bit of a testy frown on her face. "Decided? Since when does one decide when they're in love?"

Joyce sighed wistfully. "When one knows it."

"You're acting strangely pleasant," Mabel accused, confused by this odd turn of behaviour.

Ignoring her sister's words, Joyce caught hold of her hands once more. "Do I seem like the marrying type?"

"Marrying?" Mabel cried, pulling her hands free in surprise. "Are you serious?"

There was a breathy sigh. "Utterly…"

"To who?" Mabel demanded, but had a sneaking suspicion already.

"To a wonderful man whose name I shan't reveal," Joyce replied dramatically.

The blind woman suppressed a snort. "And why not? I'd like to know the name of the man my sister is so suddenly intent marrying!"

Joyce's reply was somewhat sheepish. "Well, he hasn't exactly asked me yet…but he has confessed his undying love. We'll be married, I'm sure of it."

Mabel frowned. "When did this happen?"

"I'm not saying another word!" Joyce decided abruptly, and changed the subject just as quickly. "What was it you wanted?"

Mabel located the chaise set up by the open window and sat down carefully. "A favour."

Joyce made an odd humming sound. "I'm not too sure I like the favours you ask of me…"

"Then you'll be pleased to know all I need is for you to accompany me into Port Royal tomorrow," Mabel replied smoothly. She held out a hand to her sister and drew her onto the seat beside her. "Please do me this one favour, my Joyce." she whispered in hushed tones, holding her sister's hands tighter in her own.

"You're acting very oddly, Mabel…"

"Not odd. Just cautious. I need you get me to Port Royal tomorrow. No mother. Only the two of us," Mabel pressed.

Joyce pulled away. "Just the two of us? What's going on?" she demanded.

Mabel decided to keep her plans to herself. "Nothing requiring your concern," she replied simply.

"Well, it certainly seems like it!"

Mabel heaved a sigh. "Joyce, all I'm asking is for you help get to Port Royal tomorrow. Would you do me this one thing? I don't often ask for help."

"That's exactly what concerns me!" Joyce retorted. "You're far too hard-headed for your own good! Do you know what mother would do if she found out? I suppose you want to go without an escort!"

Nothing short of a mischievous smile swept across the blind woman's face. She leaned just a bit closer to her sister, eyes seemingly focused on the girl. "Will you help me, or do I have let slip the secret of your lover down by the docks!"

Joyce gasped, sounding scandalized. "You wouldn't!"

"Wouldn't I?"

A tense silence settled thick in the room as Joyce eyed her older sister with a look of distaste and incredulity. Mabel sat still, a look of calm expectance on her face, but a look of triumph already in her sightless eyes. Finally, the wordless battle ended.

"You play dirty," Joyce accused.

Mabel broke into a smile. "One must have some advantages."

Her sister sighed heavily. "Alright. We'll have a carriage arrive as soon as breakfast is over."

Mabel nodded in agreement. "Yes, and not a word of this to mother. Or the servants. As far as they know, we're going into town to shop. You know how much they gossip."

٭

"Oh, you're mum ain't gonna like this," Annie, the maid, worried to herself as she helped Mabel step up into the carriage that next morning. Joyce had persuaded Mabel to allow one maid to come as an escort, and Joyce had chosen Annie. The woman was a terrible fret, but she wasn't a gossip.

"That is exactly why she isn't going to know," Mabel replied, settling in the seat facing the front of the carriage.

"Which will make it worse when she finds out!" Annie cried.

Sighing, Joyce pulled the maid into the carriage. "Oh, get in and stop worrying. Our mother will be blissfully oblivious if you keep your lips sealed and I come up with a grand story about Mabel's and my day at Port Royal's most prestigious shops fitting on dresses."

"And be sure to buy one or two," Mabel added.

Joyce laughed. "Me? Of course I'll pick out a few!" She then leaned out the window and gave the side of the carriage a hearty slap. "Alright, John, we're ready! On to Port Royal!" she called cheerily to the diver of the carriage, and it jolted forward moments later, knocking all three women off balance.

"Goodness!" Joyce exclaimed, holding a hand to her hat. "I'll have to tell him not be so enthusiastic!"

Carriages as a mode of transport was not Mabel's favourite, but with the Browning household a good half hour's walk from Port Royal's centre, she understood why it was used. It was either carriage or horseback, and for obvious reasons Mabel was quite fine with riding in a carriage opposed to be jostled about on the back of a large animal. Besides, she had never learned how to ride.

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat just as Joyce broke the silence.

"Oh, I have something for you, Mabel!" she exclaimed, as if she had nearly forgotten. "Annie?"

Mabel listened intently to the shuffling sound of the two women handling something. She pursed her lips curiously, but was somewhat hesitant to accept whatever Joyce was giving her.

"Here, hold out your hands," her sister instructed.

Complying, Mabel felt something long and rounded pressed into her hands. As she curled her fingers tentatively around the object, she frowned.

"A stick?" she asked, puzzled.

Annie actually laughed, as did Joyce.

"No! It's not a stick. Feel it," she urged, an edge of excitement in her voice that Mabel couldn't comprehend.

Slowly, she settled back into her seat and grasped the object lightly. One hand rand along it, and she felt suddenly the polished feel of it, like silk to her fingertips. It still felt like wood, however, and it wasn't until her hand reached the curved top of it that she realized what the gift was.

"A cane!" She grasped the handle firmly, noticing how it fit into her hand perfectly.

"Do you like it?" Joyce asked eagerly.

Mabel was shocked. Should she feel grateful that her sister had gotten her something so…useful? Something to aid her? Or should she feel insulted that Joyce didn't believe she could get around without her dog?

"It's a surprise," Mabel admitted helplessly. "Where did you get it?"

"After you left my room last night I began to wonder how you were going to make it around Port Royal alone. And don't protest! You know very well that you would be lost within a crowd. It's simply too confusing to get around. You might have fallen down some stairs or walked into a wall—and don't laugh at me!"

Mabel couldn't help it though. "Joyce, I learned a very long time ago to use my hearing to make up for my sight. I'm not as helpless as you think I am." She began to offer the cane back to her sister.

"It was father's," Joyce told her suddenly, and Mabel froze. "I went rummaging about the attic yesterday. I remember quite clearly that he used a cane for his limp in the cold whether when his joints stiffened. You can use it to find your way around. Trust me, it will be easier."

The blind woman stayed in indecision a moment before nodding slowly. "Alright. I'll give it a try. But if it gets in my way I'll be up in the attic again before the day is through."

Mabel was oblivious to Joyce's smirk of triumph and Annie's nod of approval. The three women lapsed into a comfortable silence.

The ride took little less than half the time on foot, the carriage rolling up and down the hills, all the while the ocean in plain view. The farmers had cut down most the trees along the road, which provided an excellent view of the turquoise waters.

Joyce observed her sister from the other side of the carriage. If she didn't know better, she would have thought Mabel was enjoying the scenery outside, as her eyes seemed to be fixed on the ocean as they rose over the crest of the hill overlooking Port Royal. A feeling of sadness washed over her, but she shook it away and cleared her throat, attracting both Mabel and Annie's attention.

"Will you tell me why you're going?"

Mabel shook her head. "No."

"I think you should," Joyce insisted. "It seems awfully secret."

"And that's precisely the reason why little sisters should not be involved."

"Then tell me where you want to go so I can tell John. You can't just wander around the town the whole day," Joyce pressed.

Mabel's fingers tightened around the cane in her lap. "At the smithy. I'll be at the smithy."