Chapter Seven - Where Is Jack?
Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean belongs to Disney.
Time continued to drag on as 8am rolled by. Clearly not a morning person, Patrick grabbed his bowl of over-sugared cornflakes and slumped down at the dining table. His appetite was barely there as he stirred the cereal that resembled mush unenthusiastically.
"Good morning, sir. Did you sleep well?"
There was Elizabeth Swann's painfully irritating voice.
"Yeah, just absolutely great. This day is getting better by the second," Patrick replied sarcastically.
"Oh, I'm pleased to hear that."
Elizabeth took a seat opposite Patrick, watching as he spooned up the mush and dropped it back into the bowl, only to repeat the process again.
"Are you going to eat that?" she asked.
"What does it look like?" Patrick anticipated Elizabeth's criticism.
"Well it's not at all good table manners," Elizabeth informed, hoping to educate him on the matters of etiquette.
"Do I look like I give a rat's arse?"
"Excuse me?"
Patrick rolled his eyes. "You heard what I said."
"That is utterly disgusting. How could you say such a thing?"
"Very easily."
Elizabeth was appalled. This man didn't even bother to change into appropriate day-wear! There he was, shirtless, not at all presentable, mixing his breakfast to a pulp - and seemingly on purpose - in front of a woman of high society!
Looking around the modern kitchen, Elizabeth then thought of her less than successful encounter with Captain Jack Sparrow last night. She knew Jack was a good man underneath it all, but she didn't understand why he'd refuse to help her; if not for her, at least for Will. Naturally, Jack wanted something in return. She should've expected that.
Ugh, Elizabeth thought to herself. Jack couldn't have seriously meant what he implied, she pondered, horrified at the thought of having to kiss him again or god knows what else, just for him to do the right thing. Surely, Jack must consider Will a friend? After all they've been through…
It then dawned on her. Where is Jack?
Disorientated and bewildered to say the least, Jack Sparrow opened his kohl-lined eyes to find himself unusually trapped in a poky confinement. A rather dark one at that. Thinking he was dead yet again or even worse, Jack felt around the restricted space for any clue as to his whereabouts.
A-ha! His fingers brushed against the unmistakable feeling of glass which could only mean rum was involved. But then again, knowing that simple fact didn't help the situation much, considering he still had no idea where he was at this present time.
The thought of putting his trusty compass to good use seemed a reasonable solution, however being able to see in the dark was not one of Jack's hidden talents. Bugger.
Oh well, he quite liked the sound of: "Captain Jack Sparrow sacrifices his life to be lost forever in a dark abyss while doing something exceedingly heroic" - whatever that heroic thing will be, he couldn't quite decide on. Fortunately, he had a feeling there'll be plenty of time to think it over in his current situation.
Jack tapped on the cushioned walls surrounding him much to his surprise. A soft abyss. That's interesting, he thought. He then decided it was a great opportunity to sleep off his terrible headache. Why did he not think of that earlier?
Jack's eyes closed for a brief moment as the muffled sound of two male voices came closer. Instantly wide awake, Jack tried his best to listen in to the New York accents.
"Yeah, we gotta be there by 2pm this arvo."
"That soon? Well, we better load her up then."
Without any warning, Jack felt his stomach churn as the surroundings the of abyss moved. It was a bad idea to drink rum beforehand, yet he couldn't recall how much he'd had. Nor could he recall how he managed to get himself into this predicament.
On the positive side, he couldn't wait to tell the crew about this grand adventure of survival in the moving, dark abyss. Yet, leaving out the fact that it was exceptionally soft and comfortable would be a good idea. And be sure to mention he accomplished said adventure without rum. He made a mental note to exaggerate that particular piece of information.
"Oi! You!" Jack yelled at the feeling of being dropped, his head hitting the cushion overhead.
"Yo, Bobby, did ya hear that?"
"Hear what, Carl?"
"Nah, it's nuttin'. This seem heavier to you?"
"Eh, they use different materials on the pricey ones."
"I ain't see the point, ya know."
"Nah, ya don't want Joey to hear ya say that, Carl."
"Let's get a move on then."
Neither voice sounded much like Elizabeth, Jack thought, somewhat relieved and somewhat not. Actually, they didn't sound like anyone familiar. That may be a good thing to some extent.
A rumbling could be heard as Jack felt the abrupt vibrations to accompany the dull sound. Add 'rumbling' to the long list of words used to describe this extraordinary abyss, Jack noted. The suspicion he was being treated as cargo - and not that of the Pearl, crossed his mind.
This is definitely not good.