Chapter 12
Author's Note:
The song that Angel sings is "Into the West" from the Lord of the Rings: Return of the King soundtrack. I in no way, shape, or form own the lyrics to that song. They belong to Annie Lennox - Artemis
As the sun rose on the third morning of our journey, I saw the faint outline of land on the horizon. I knew immediately that we had finally reached Hispaniola. About time, I thought. From here, Jamaica was only a half-days journey, so I decided that we'd dock there and stretch our legs. The wind had been in our favor throughout the entirety of our journey so far, and I hoped it would remain as such. The sun was still rising when I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Will. Apparently I had that far-off, saddened look in my eyes because he asked me if I was alright.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinkin' is all," I replied reassuringly. I didn't need Will worrying about me, I had Jack for that. Although he wasn't there, I had Anamaria here to do the worrying. I didn't need another person worrying about me too.
As Hispaniola drew ever closer, I decided to call everyone on deck so I could tell them my plan for the day.
"ALL HANDS ON DECK! ALL HANDS!" No sooner had the words escaped my mouth, everyone was in front of me, awaiting instruction. Even the Turners stood before me, all three of them.
"Alright, here's my plan. Once we arrive at Hispaniola, we're gonna dock in the nearest harbor. From there, you have a chance to re-stock on any provisions we may need and get yourselves somethin' if you wish. We're gonna stay anchored all night, seein' as Port Royal is only a half-days journey from Hispaniola," I informed everyone below me. "Are there any questions?"
"Yeah, who owns Hispaniola? The Spanish or the French?" Gibbs asked.
"I don't have any idea! In the 21st century, Hispaniola doesn't even exist! The island is two separate countries, Haiti and the Dominican Republic," I replied.
"Well then, how are we gonna talk t' the locals?" Anamaria asked.
"Lucky for you, I'm fluent in French and Spanish, so just leave the talkin' to me," I replied. Thank God for foreign language camp! If my parents hadn't forced me into taking both French and Spanish in school and then sent me to camp for two months, I wouldn't be of any help. Not only am I fluent in English, French, and Spanish, but I also know Italian, German, and Portuguese, so I was set. Money wise, I wasn't. All I had was a few gold coins. Hopefully someone else aboard was better off than poor little me.
About two hours later, we pulled into a harbor. It wasn't anything fancy, which was fine by me. After living 16 years of my life in fancy, expensive places, it was good to be in a normal environment for once. I called for some locals to help us and thank God they spoke English! After we were tied off to the dock, I had a gangplank brought over and we disembarked from the ship. Although I had long since gotten use to the rolling of the ship, it felt good to have my feet on solid ground again. Once Anamaria got off the ship, the two of us decided to go and find a pub to get something to drink. 16 as I was, I had had alcohol before. I know, I know, bad girl for having alcohol when I'm not 21, but hey, these things happen at high school parties in California, I'm sorry to say. And seeing as I didn't think there was a drinking age in the 18th century, I figured I was safe. So Anamaria and I walked the dirt roads and looked at the stone buildings that were Hispaniola. We saw some houses and shops with Spanish flags, others with French flags. Clearly even the locals had no idea who owned the island. We ended up at a pub that was owned by this very nice Irish fellow. Talk about strange. Anamaria and I both had rum and enjoyed an interesting conversation with the owner, whose name, of all names, was Pat O'Reiley. Don't think I've ever heard a more Irish name in my life.
"So, where are ye fine lassies off to?" Pat inquired.
"We're goin' to Port Royal in search of my father, Captain Jack Sparrow," I replied as he poured me another rum.
"Jack Sparrow? I've heard tales of 'im. A very charming pirate who can get his way easily," Pat said, "And now that I look at ye, I see the resemblance." He poured Anamaria another drink as well, and we continued talking. Pat was a very nice fellow, and I decided to ask a question that needed asking.
"Pat, why is an Irishman such as yourself down in a French/Spanish place like this?"
"Well, I wasn't makin' much of a livin' back in Ireland, and I heard that the Spanish paid their subjects well, so I packed me stuff and came here lookin' for money," he replied.
"But Hispaniola has been switchin' hands between the French and Spanish for years," Anamaria piped up. "How can you get paid well if the Spanish don't even own the island?"
"Well, I still get paid by the Spanish, even if they don't own the island. I'm a subject of the Spanish crown now, so I get paid as a Spaniard," Pat responded.
After three drinks, I switched over to water so as not to get drunk. Anamaria wanted to have more rum, but I didn't want her getting drunk, so she switched to water as well. We sat and chatted for a few more hours, and once it got dark, we decided to return to the ship for dinner.
"Thanks for the drinks, Pat." I said, leaving some gold on the bar as Anamaria headed for the door.
"Anytime lassie. Hope ye find Jack alright," he replied as we left. We took the long way back to the docks, looking in shop windows and admiring all the goods. Some were from Spain, others from France. All of it looked incredible though. Once we returned to the docks, we saw some men looking at the Pearl in admiration. When we were close enough, I realized they were talking in Spanish, so I understood every word.
"Excuse me, miss," one of the men said to me in Spanish. "Do you happen to know if that's the Black Pearl?"
"Aye, it is the Pearl." I replied in Spanish. "I'm her captain, Angel Sparrow."
"I thought she was captained by Jack Sparrow," another man said.
"She is, but Jack has been taken captive, and I'm his daughter, so I'm her captain until he's rescued," I explained. They couldn't believe at first that I was Jack's daughter, but then saw the resemblance and realized that I was indeed his daughter.
Once the men left, Anamaria and I boarded the ship. She headed for the galley while I climbed up to my hammock in the rigging. When I looked to the West, I could see the faint outline of Jamaica on the horizon. I thought of my mother and began singing a song that she had sung to me as a child.
Lay down, your sweet and weary head
Night is falling, you have come to journey's end,
Sleep now, and dream of the ones who came before
They are calling, from across a distant shore.
Why do you weep, what are these tears upon your face
Soon you will see, all of your fears will pass away,
Safe in my arms, you're only sleeping…
What can you see, on the horizon
Why do the white gulls call.
Across the sea, a pale moon rises
The ships have come, to carry you home.
And all will turn to silver glass,
A light on the water, all souls pass…
Hope fades, into the world of night
Through shadows falling, out of memory and time,
Don't say, we have come now to the end
White shores are calling, you and I will meet again.
And you'll be here in my arms, just sleeping…
What can you see, on the horizon
Why do the white gulls call.
Across the sea, a pale moon rises
The ships have come, to carry you home.
And all will turn to silver glass,
A light on the water, gray ships pass
Into the West.
IN PORT ROYAL…
Jack sat in a prison cell, wondering if Angel was coming to his rescue, and if she was, how close to him was she. Although she was miles away, Jack felt like he heard her singing softly in his cell. He obviously thought he was hearing things, but it was still a nice comfort. Angel, Jack thought, resting his head against the stone wall of his cell, I hope you're alright.
Author's Note:
Reviews are welcome! - Artemis