"You swore she'd go free!" Will's angry voice curses Barbossa from behind me. I turn around.
"Don't dare impugn me honor, boy. I agreed she'd go free, but it was you who failed to specify when or where," Barbossa laughs. The crew follows suit. Will glares at the captain hatefully as the pirates stuff a piece of cloth into his mouth, gagging him. They push him away and hold him at gunpoint.
Barbossa looks at me.
"Though does seem a shame to lose something so fine, don't it?"
The crew sniggers in agreement. Barbossa steps forward with an outstretched hand.
"So I'll be having that dress back before you go," he says.
I feel no embarrassment, only anger. I unlace the front of my dress and pull it off of me, revealing the chemise beneath. I fold up the dress and fling it at Barbossa.
"Goes with your black heart," I snarl at him, ignoring the whistles and laughs by the pirates and avoiding Will's gaze.
I turn back around to look at the blue sea and the spot of land in the distance. I walk slowly back toward the edge of the plank.
"Off you go!" Someone calls.
"Come on!" Pintel shouts. I turn around to take one last look at Will, one last look forever.
I'll never see him again.
"Too long!" Shouts a burly pirate and suddenly I'm thrown off balance. With a squeal, I fall towards the ocean, arms flailing. Water engulfs me and salt fills my mouth. Bubbles swim through my vision. I float motionless for a moment, dazed by what has just happened. A second more and then I'm swimming upwards and breaking through the surface, gasping for air. I look at the wooden plank above me. I hear laughing and murmuring. I long to climb up the edge of the ship, but I know I would only be forced back into the water. There is no other option. I decide to swim to shore.
I feel heavy in the water as I swim towards land. The water is warm and reflects the sun. My muscles ache. When I'm about halfway towards land, I hear a splash from behind me. I turn around. Another figure has been pushed into the ocean. I wait for a moment, but no one appears from beneath the water.
Maybe it wasn't a person. Maybe just a piece of useless cargo.
I look up at the ship, trying to catch a glimpse of Will, but there is no sign of him.
Suddenly, a man comes up sputtering from beneath the water. Jack Sparrow has walked the plank as well.
Angrily, I turn around and resume swimming for shore.
If being marooned on a deserted island all by myself wasn't bad enough. Now I'm stuck with the one pirate I hate most, except for Barbossa.
Sparrow swims much faster than me and by the time I'm walking up onto the beach, he's right behind me. My limbs feel weak from swimming. With a despairing feeling, I turn around to watch the Pearl fade into the distance.
"That's the second time I've had to watch that man sail away with my ship," Sparrow says dejectedly. I can't stand to stay with him a second more. I pick up my skirt and walk away.
I'm marooned on an island.
Never in my wildest dreams did I guess I would end up here someday.
The Pearl is no more than a speck on the ocean now. What I would give to be back on that ship.
My mind starts whirring. There has to be off this island. Perhaps something has washed ashore. Wood, supplies—anything. Anything we can use to escape.
As I walk along the beach, my eyes turn to the island. It seems to be nothing but grass, palm trees and sand. Barbossa couldn't have picked a more cruel place to leave us stranded. The sand sticks to my feet and the sun beats down on my skin. I wipe perspiration from my forehead. A few days and I'll be dead in this heat. There must be a way to escape. I'll cut down some palm trees and build a raft if I have to.
Nothing to cut with, Elizabeth. No rope either.
Suddenly, I see someone lying on the beach in the distance. There's someone else here! I begin to run towards the figure, but as I approach him, I'm startled. There are beads in his hair. He's barefoot and looking at a flintlock holding a single bullet.
Jack Sparrow.
I look up at the beach. Footprints lead away. My footprints.
"It's really not all that big, is it?" Sparrow says from beside me, fingering his gun.
"If you're going to shoot me please do so without delay," I reply.
"Is there a problem between us, Miss Swann?"
"You were going to tell Barbossa about Will in exchange for a ship."
"We could use a ship," Sparrow says loudly. "The fact is I was going to not tell Barbossa about Will in exchange for a ship because as long as he didn't know about Will, I had something to bargain with. Which now no one has, thanks to stupid Will." Sparrow stands up and I look down.
So Will sacrificed his life for nothing.
"Oh," I mutter.
"Oh," Sparrow repeats angrily, putting his gun away in his belt.
"He still risked his life to save ours," I point out.
"Hah!" Sparrow laughs. He starts walking towards the palm trees.
"So we have to do something to rescue him!" I run after him.
"Off you go then! Let me know how that turns out," he shoos me away.
"But you were marooned on this island before, weren't you? So we can escape same way you did then!" I protest.
"To what point and purpose, young missy?" He rounds on me. "The Black Pearl is gone. Unless you have a rudder and sails hidden in that bodice," his eyes travel down my body, "unlikely. Young Mr. Turner will be dead long before you can reach him."
The pirate turns around and begins to knock on the trunks of palm trees. I hardly notice what he's doing. My only thoughts are on the idea of Will. Dead. I thought he had drowned less than two hours ago, only to find out that he is actually alive. I'm not about to give up yet.
"But you're Captain Jack Sparrow," I say, my thoughts flashing back to some books I read when I was fourteen.
"You vanished from seven agents of the East India Company, you sacked Nassau Port without even firing a shot. Are you the pirate I've read about or not?" I demand, stepping closer to him. "How did you escape last time?"
Sparrow's eyes look at me regrettably. His hands find their way to my shoulders.
"Last time, I was here a grand total of three days, all right?" He confesses. Then he bends down to wipe away some sand beneath him.
He stayed here for three whole days? That doesn't sound like Jack Sparrow at all.
"Last time," he opens a wooden door that is hidden beneath the sand, "the rumrunners used this island as a cache, came by, and I was able to barter passage off." He climbs down some wooden steps where I see shelves and crates full of bottles of brown liquid. "From the looks of things, they've long been out of business."
I walk a bit closer as Sparrow curses something about Commodore Norrington and my jaw drops. That is how Jack Sparrow survived? That is how he escaped?
How pathetic.
"So that's it, then?" I struggle to contain the anger in my voice. "That's the secret, grand adventure if the infamous Jack Sparrow? You spent three days lying on a beach, drinking rum?"
Sparrow, who now faces me, lowers his eyes. Then he smiles mockingly and holds up the two bottles in either hand.
"Welcome to the caribbean, love," he grins and pushes past me, walking down towards the beach.
"So, is there any truth to the other stories?" I ask him, the little pirate girl inside me thinking out loud.
"Truth?"
Sparrow looks right at me and pulls up his right sleeve, revealing the same vicious-looking brand of the letter "P" that I saw when Sparrow first came to Port Royal. It's an obvious brand given to pirates by the East India Company. He then lifts up his left sleeve, showing a reddish-brown scar from his sacking at Naussau Port. Finally, he pulls back his shirt to show me two bullet holes.
"No truth at all," Sparrow says. He sits down, uncorking a bottle of rum. "We still have a month, maybe more. Keep a weather eye open for passing ships and our chances are fair." He takes a swig of rum.
"And what about Will?" I ask hopelessly. "We have to do something."
Sparrow swallows.
"You're absolutely right." He rolls me the bottle he just drank from.
"Here's luck to you, Will Turner," Sparrow takes another bottle from his side and raises it up. With a sigh, I pick up the bottle that rests at my feet and uncork it, sitting down beside the pirate. I look down at the rum.
No point in abstaining anymore.
"Drink up me hearties, yo ho," I say, putting the bottle to my lips and taking a gulp. It's disgusting.
"What was that, Elizabeth?" Sparrow asks.
"It's Miss Swann," I correct, throwing him a glare.
Sparrow puts up his hands.
"Nothing," I say. "Just a song I learned as a child, when I actually thought it would be exciting to meet a pirate."
"Let's hear it," Sparrow says.
"No."
"Come on, we got the time. Let's have it."
"No!" I repeat, looking out at the ocean. "I'd have to have a lot more to drink." I swallow some more rum.
Sparrow says nothing for a moment. Then he looks at me and smiles.
"How much more?"
I look down at the bottle of rum in my hands.
We do have the time . . .
The sky is turning orange and violet. We've sat on the beach until Sparrow has repeated the song back to me without error. I know I will regret teaching him that later. That is, if we ever get off this island.
As the sky turns more colorful, Sparrow wakes up from a doze, stands up, and stretches.
"Time to build a fire." He walks away into the palm trees.
I look down at the bottle of rum still clutched in my hand. It is now half full. I scold myself silently and stand up to follow the pirate. I walk over to a large clump of fallen palm trees and begin to gather up some of the pieces of trunk. When I put the wood into a pile on the beach, Sparrow has already returned with a larger pile and is beginning to start the fire by rubbing two pieces of wood together. He blows on the wood and a spark ignites, slowly spreading to the rest of the firewood.
I run back and forth carrying fuel for the fire. The pile of wood grows bigger and bigger. When we finally decide we have enough wood, I collapse onto the sand and close my eyes. A cool breeze blows past and the fire crackles beside me. I look out at the setting sun, the sky erupting into a mixture of gold and scarlet. The water has turned a deeper blue and reflects the yellow rays of the sunset. Clouds scatter the sky, turning peach and then fading into lavender wisps.
I sigh. My heart feels sore and tired, but I also feel something I've never before experienced. My heart is aching.
I will get off this island. I will find Will.
"We pillage, we plunder, we rifle and loot. Drink up me hearties yo ho!" I sing under my breath. I feel a deeper ache.
"We kidnap and ravage and don't give a hoot," comes Sparrow's voice beside me. I look at him and he smiles.
"Drink up me hearties yo ho!" I continue in defeat.
"Yo ho, yo ho a pirate's life for me," Sparrow joins in.
"We extort and pilfer, we filch and sack. Drink up me hearties, yo ho," I sing, sitting up.
"Maraud and embezzle and even highjack. Drink up me hearties, yo ho!" Sparrow shouts and stands up. I laugh.
You haven't laughed in a long time, Elizabeth.
It feels good.
"Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me. We kindle and char and inflame and ignite. Drink up me hearties, yo ho. We burn up the city, we're really a fright. Drink up me hearties, yo ho. Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me."
Sparrow runs around the fire and spins in the sand. I pick up my bottle of rum, take a sip, and begin to skip around the fire.
"We're rascals and scoundrels, we're villians and knaves. Drink up me hearties, yo ho. We're devils and black sheep, we're really bad eggs. Drink up me hearties, yo ho. Yo ho, yo ho! A pirate's life for me!"
"I love this song!" Sparrow shouts into the night.
I link his elbow with mine and twirl around, giggling.
"Really—bad eggs!" Sparrow says, and I notice his voice sounds slightly off. He's half drunk already.
He confirms my theory when he falls over.
"When I get the Pearl back," he begins as I drop down next to him. "I'm gonna teach it to the whole crew—and we'll sing it all the time."
"And you will be positively the most fearsome pirate in the Spanish Main," I say with mock viciousness. His eyes widen.
"Not just the Spanish Main, love. The entire ocean."
I turn a snicker but he doesn't notice.
"The entire world. Wherever we want to go, we go. That's what a ship is, you know. It's not just a keel and a deck and sails. That's what a ship needs. But what a ship is—what the Black Pearl really is—is freedom," he whispers.
I swallow slowly. There is truth to what he says.
"Jack," I sigh, leaning against his shoulder. "It must be really terrible for you to be trapped on this island."
"Oh yes," he responds. "But the . . . company is infinitely better than last time, I think."
I look down to see Jack's greasy pirate fingers wrapping around my shoulder.
"The scenery has definitely improved," he laughs, and I smell his breath, which stinks of rum.
"Mr. Sparrow," I squeak, sitting up. "I'm not entirely sure I've had enough rum to allow that kind of talk."
He holds up an index finger.
"I know exactly what you mean, love." He curls his mustache upward. I feel his hand snaking back behind my neck and I instantly hold out my bottle of rum for a toast.
"To freedom."
"To the Black Pearl," he agrees, hitting his bottle against mine. I put my bottle to my lips but I don't drink anything. I don't dare. Jack takes one gulp after another, until he finally hits the ground with a thump. Pathetic.
I look down at the bottle in my hand. Or four bottles, rather. The world seems to by spinning. I lay down, trying to control my dizziness.
I probably feel this way because it's the first time I've tasted the rum. Father's voice echoes in my head. Ghastly drink it is. Turns good men into dirty thieves . . .
I giggle sleepily, missing Father's voice.
Father wasn't very outspoken about rum until around the time I turned sixteen. Father was hosting a dinner party at the mansion when we received word that the court house was ablaze. Apparently one of the officers had left a bottle of rum near a fireplace and it had somehow tipped over, sending an entire wing of the building up in flames. After that, Father never allowed rum in the mansion or anywhere else he had authority over. He said not only is it a foul and disgraceful drink, but also dangerous because it's flammable.
Flammable.