Chapter IV

Whispers of the Sea

They were sailing in sheer darkness, the ocean black and deathly still around them. It melted, merged with the sky, until it became one solid line, and they were gliding in a dense tunnel of night. The stars were dim, and the only source of light was the oil lamps burning intensely from their positions posted around the ship.

It was a magical evening, and the lapping waters greedily licked at the Dutchman's prow like young children flocking to the safety of their mother's skirt. Will was leaning against the gunwale, the flickering of a nearby lamp reflected in his eyes, making them dance with the motion of the flame.

The whisper of the sea hummed in his ears, weaving a smoky, wispy song that made him pleasantly drowsy and warm. It infolded him, seemingly, like a thick coat of otter skins. His eyelids flickered once, twice, and he savored the thought of sleeping for a long time.

But then the whisper became louder, urgent, overlapping.

Jolted, Will snapped to alertness and looked around wildly, for the sound was a shriek now in his ears, echoing from all sides. It was only when he murmured "What is this?"growing fearful, did it fade and separate, all the tones and sounds becoming one.

One he very easily recognized.

It was smooth and rough at the same time, more fluid and less real than he remembered, something so pure and unshaped; the voice of the ocean.

William Turna', Calypso spoke softly, and for a brief flash in time, he swore he felt the breath of air and a tickle by his ear- then it was gone. William Turna', she said again. You 'ave not set foot on land for hundreds o' years. The sea gives you 'dis opportunity, but ye do not take it.

"I've long ago lost track of my descendants. They cut off all contact with me. I have no reason to go ashore. Why do you tell me this?"

In response, the pounding of the waves against the hull of the ship became more rapid, a deep thudding, almost like a chuckle.

I tell you nothing ye do not know. But you do know that your men 'ave suffered because of your insecurities about land and your dead wife.

"If they had approached me before about this, I would have taken them!" he argued back.

But as captain, you should 'ave known they wanted 'dat badly. It is your duty to them!

"It seems Davy Jones' duty became quite warped, yet he received no scolding." Will said, immediately regretting his foolhardy action. The motion of the waves stilled, and the sails dropped, dead and limp. It was as if the life had been sucked out of them.

Davy Jones did not do as he was 'sposed to. He suffered for that. You have been very beneficent all these years, William Turna', as have I been to you. Do not renege on the pact that had been made all 'dose years ago. Calypso's voice was more grating, like the sound of scraping barnacles together. It was clear the mention of Davy Jones did not please her.

"I'm sorry," Will said, genuine and abashed. "I just- I-" he struggled for words, sinking slowly down the rail. All the crew save his father had gone below, and Bootstrap was stalwartly in control of the wheel, seemingly deaf to Will's conversation and took no notice of the sails. Indeed, Bill looked dead ahead, like an animated corpse.

Will stared at his father and his gut clenched in fear. He hoped he had not angered the Goddess so much as to provoke her into doing something terrible against his father as punishment. The sails filled again, like the breath of angels was being blown into them. Calypso's voice returned to his head, this time smooth and calm, like a clear, airy day on the ocean.

Not to worry, William. Your father is fine. She promised him. Will nodded, unsure if she could even see the movement or not, yet not really caring. He imagined Calypso didn't care to have their discussion interrupted by any of the hands, even if it would only be one-sided.

I can see 'dat your heart -that odd, thumping chuckle again- is guileless. But hush and listen to me. She commanded. The thought of not paying attention to the Goddess did not even cross his mind. In fact, since she was virtually in his mind, the task was altogether impossible. Will was down on the deck by now, hands on his knees, patiently waiting for Calypso to continue.

As you have not been ashore for many years, 'de sea grants ye this favor; all the days collected from your opportunities to step on land have gathered and piled up like a stack 'o pirate treasure. One month and more, you would have now, if ye so chose.

Will gasped. After over two centuries, she had not told him of this option? If he had known, he would have handled so much differently. Things could have been different, things could have been-

Been what, Captain Turna'? Been what? What do you think you could have changed? Saved your wife, your son? Saved your family from thinking you only a legend that they should be ashamed of? Calypso sounded almost scornful, and he could envision the woman he once thought called Tia Dalma shaking her head, the dark dreadlocks swinging back and forth like a hangman's noose swaying in the wind.

But she was right. He did not know what he could have changed, if anything. It didn't make much of a difference now anyway. The past was past, something meant for history books, not something to be thought of.

Will asked softly, "Why do you tell me this now? Why not later?"

Why not now, little captain? Why not?

He was silent, holding his breath, as if she wasn't completely finished yet and the slightest noise might end this interlude. The only sounds were the sails flapping, the occasional sigh of the wind, the hiss of the sea. Will entered the trancelike state again, lost within himself, feeling sleepy…

"William, son, are you alright?" Bootstrap shouted down from his position, concern etched into his weathered face. Will's eyes flew open, and he jumped to his feet.

"Yes, I just…do you not remember anything?" he was flustered, something that scarce happened to him these days, merely for the lack of anything to cause such distress in ways he did not how to handle.

Bootstrap shook his head in consternation. "What is it I should be rememberin'?"

"Nothing, father." Will said, giving him a weak nod. "Calypso just spoke to me." To his relief, his father did not press him, seeming to understand the need for private intimacy between the Captain of the Flying Dutchman and the Goddess of the ocean.

"I'll see you tomorrow then," Will smiled tiredly, giving Bootstrap a quick, wistful smile, before disappearing into his cabin.

He couldn't wait for sunrise.