An Unlikely Upbringing

Chapter Three: Free As a Sparrow

"Mom?" Jack tugged at his moth's dress sleeve, impatiently awaiting to have his currently unstated inquiry answered by what he believed to be an all-knowing character of his life who was currently talking to someone that had the equivalent IQ of a goldfish, and perhaps the mythical memory, and in other words Jack just same didn't like this woman speaking to his mother in the middle of the market place located conveniently close to their cottage of sorts. His persistent tugging continued until Nima was forced to gaze down at her son.

Exasperatedly she finally paid an ounce of attention to him, "What, Jack?"

"Dad said he escaped an island. How, again?"

The face of Nima changed from slightly agitated at her son easily transforming into the pirate of his father to a bemused smile, a simper, "Sea turtles."

"Sea turtles…" Jack repeated the phrase in the similar mysterious tone his father often took on during their small bits of story time when he was actually housed in the cottage Nima and Jack Teague pleasured in calling their home. Quaint and secure, as they considered it.

Though Jack—for a brief moment or two—preoccupied with his father's bizarre tales, contemplated the entire day of his worth with the bewigged man on the dock previously met earlier in the morning. Nima still didn't know and Jack was still examining all aspects of his excuses for credibility. Luckily, his part on thinking of the story made Nima only presume his concentration to be on how one would go about escaping from an island with sea turtles in mind, not legitimacy of his lies he'd feed her until she finally figured it all out.

So with all these thoughts in mind, Jack found himself sooner than he expected tucked safely beneath his quilt in hammock, dreaming of the next day's work and money, and Nima sprawled underneath her blanket in a nightgown the next room over.

Now, with the invention of alarm clocks not yet in the market of anyone's mind, Jack had fed his lie early to his mother to. "My teacher wants to know if I can go in early, something about tests and exceptional minds…" Jack made it seem dull, only to hide his excitement.

Nima was always awake at the hours before his school time, imagining all the trouble her captain got himself into and what Jack was growing into, so it was no trouble on her part to startle Jack, as he always awoke that way, into getting ready for school. Any sort of decent mother, such as Nima, would be so proud of her star son, even if he were a grumpy, bitter boy to be around in the morning time. Yet, extraordinarily, this morning turned out to be just as the previous: unordinary.

Though it wasn't entirely as eager as the last one, Jack was still somehow less sore as he hopped onto the dining chair, ate his breakfast of eggs and sausage, slipped on his boots and coat (only on the persistence of his mother) and skipped out the door. Due to his sea legs, he didn't get very much distance before tripping and skinning his leg, again.

In all his haste, Jack arrived early to the docks, so early the man in the white wig had not arrived, and only the ship beside him and the crewmen on it filled the air with some bit of noise, though not very boisterous. "Oi! Boy!" a dark skinned man stared from the deck to Jack, a grin across his tired features. "Get up 'ere and help us while you're waitin'"

"O-Okay!" Jack's heart skipped a full beat at the chance he was handed so easily, scaling the side of the slightly barnacle-encrusted ship to the deck filled with men of dark skin, pale skin, sun burnt skin, and average skin. Long hair, short hair, mangy hair, and dreaded hair were all around him. Diversity on every level. "What do you want me to do, sir?"

"Stop talkin' so formal, first, boy," the man barked as he handed him a wooden crate, slightly heavy. "Take the rum to the storage and snap to!" Jack learned that to translate to "be quick!" so that's what he did.

His agility aboard the vessel came natural, even as it rocked about the water. It was the salty sea pumping through his veins and the ocean water air filling his lungs. For the first time, Jack did not slip and scrape his knee, nor did he tumble down any flight of stairs, or slam painfully into a wall. No, Jack Teague was as free as a bird on that ship. Jack Teague felt as free as a sparrow.

I know it's not much and my chapters haven't been too long, but I really liked to end it there. It just seemed right.

Thanks to my reviewers: Landorie and Midnight Island

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