Hi, guys! I'd like to thank you all for such a warm response (by my standards, anyway) to chapter one. So, as promised, here's another one for you. I'll be taking a two-month hiatus later in June to go to camp, but I'll try to have a few more up before I do.
As usual, I don't own POTC but Sparry is mine and I would prefer if you didn't steal her (she tends to bite, kick, and scratch.) I'd prefer if you didn't steal the text of my stories, either. And no, I'm not getting paid to do this.
And I'm rather sorry about all the typos at the end of the last chapter. I didn't know how FFN reads formatting. It won't happen again.
…And Really Bad Eggs,,,
Adventure Two: Sparry Tate, You're a Thief and a Liar
In all honesty, the puddle never had a chance and it should have said its prayers the moment it formed. After all, a large mud puddle in the middle of the street was just begging to be stepped through by all manner of animals, carts, and people. And running youngsters bent on the biggest splash they could get.
"We're devils!" shouted Sparry Tate, one half of the duo known as the scourge of the Tortuga Gutters. Stomp.
"And black sheep!" replied young Will Turner, the other half of the duo who wasn't sure he deserved the title. Lighter stomp.
"And really bad eggs!" laughed Sparry. Big stomp. Even if Will didn't deserve the title, Sparry was eager to prove that she did.
"Drink up, me 'earties, Yo Ho!" sand Will. Little stomp. The puddle sloshed around Will's boots. It liked this lad. He had mercy. Sparry looped an arm around Will's and pulled him in a circular dance. They finished the verse singing together.
"Yo ho, yo ho! A pirate's life for me!" A passerby tossed them a coin but it sank into the puddle. Sparry bent down and picked it up after some searching.
"Thank you, sir!" she called. Turning to Will, she said, "What other songs can we sing?"
"We're not done with this one yet," he protested.
"Yes we are. That was the last verse."
"There's another one."
"I don't know it. Why don't you sing it?" suggested Sparry.
"I liked singing better when you were singing with me," reasoned Will. The more he thought about it, the less he wanted to sing the next verse.
"Aye, I'll sing the 'drink up, me 'earties' bit." She slapped Will on the back. "Sing."
Will sighed. "We're beggars and blighters and ne'er-do-well cads," he sang, trying to sound enthusiastic about it.
"Drink up, me 'earties, yo ho!" chanted Sparry, who had the enthusiasm Will was trying to fake.
"Aye! But we're loved by our mommies and dads!" sang Will, cringing. Sparry opened her mouth to sing the refrain but stopped short.
"Well, that's a dumb way to end the song," she said, stomping through the puddle. Will was quick to follow. "My parents don't love me. Does that mean I can't be a pirate?"
"I'm sure it's just like, a figure of speech, or something," floundered Will. "There's lots of pirates whose parents don't love them."
Sparry, who couldn't think of any, shook her head. "Lots of pirates with dead parents," she sniffled. "But their parents must've loved 'em at some point." She sniffed. Will could see the situation quickly deteriorating, but had no idea what to do about it. "An' my parents don't love me."
Will became keenly aware that if Sparry, one half of the scourge of the Tortuga gutters, was going to throw a fit, he'd prefer she do it somewhere where it didn't make him look guilty and where after the fact it wouldn't impact her reputation. "Come on, Sparry, not in the street," he hissed, trying to lead her away. Sparry shook him off and took off running in the opposite direction.
That could have gone better, thought Will as he picked up the chase. He found Sparry perched on a barrel a few alleys over, a half-empty bottle of rum in her hands.
"Were you drinking that?" he asked accusatorially.
"Maybe," shrugged Sparry, who was crying softly because apparently you couldn't be a pirate if one of your parents resented you and the other didn't know you existed. "Here, have a sip." She passed the bottle to Will, who uncorked it and took a mouthful…
…Which he spat back out almost immediately. "Nasty stuff," he sputtered, wiping his mouth and handing the bottle back.
"It's an acquired taste," shrugged Sparry, brushing a few strands of limp brown hair away from her face. "I nicked it from Mum's bar."
"Sparry Tate," proclaimed Will with a slight laugh, "You're a thief."
"Aye," said Sparry, cheering up noticeably.
"So, you've acquired a taste for rum?" he asked.
"Yep," nodded Sparry, taking a sip. She spat it out as well. "No, actually."
"So you're a thief and a liar," accused Will. Sparry nodded. "Maybe the song's not so much a set of rules for being a pirate as it's some guidelines," considered Will, climbing onto a barrel.
"Meant to be broken!" chimed Sparry, tossing the bottle away. It shattered against the far wall. She laughed. Obviously, her mood had improved greatly from earlier. Will sighed. Disaster averted. "Hey, we're going to be pirates together, right?" Sparry asked.
"Aye!" agreed Will. "Fearsome pirates!"
"Immortal pirates! Sail the seas forever!"
"Mum's got stories about immortal pirates. It never ends well."
"Are you saying you wouldn't want to be an immortal pirate?" asked Sparry.
"I might be," shrugged Will. "I mean, Mum's friend Captain Hector was an immortal pirate once. He turned into a skeleton at night. An' my da's an immortal pirate, and he can only come on land once every ten years."
"Does this have to come back to your da'? Always?" Frankly, Sparry was getting tired of hearing about Will's father unless he would tell her the whole story. "I'm gonna call you a liar again if you keep it up."
"Better to be a liar than a thief and a liar," retorted Will. "At least I know it's true."
"Pirate."
"Look who's talking."
The duo collectively known as the scourge of the Tortuga gutters collapsed into giggles.
"Hey," interrupted Sparry as she regained control of herself, "When we're pirates, who gets to be captain?"
At the time, neither had an answer.