A Pirate's Past

A Pirates of the Caribbean Prequel by talking2myself

DISCLAIMER: see chapter. 1

Chapter. 2 Broken Promises

The waves crashed peacefully against the shore. Davy Jones held the mysterious Calypso's hand as they walked along the shore. Jones wasn't sure how much time had passed. Weeks? Months? Years even? It didn't matter. Every day he spent with Calypso had been bliss. He was living a dream. Every day he spent alone with his lover in a tropical paradise.

As mysterious as the goddess looked, Jones discovered that the goddess was quite playful. Sometimes she would disappear for hours only to reappear out of thin air with her arms around him. When this happened it usually turned into a grown up game of hide and seek.

He hadn't even thought about trying to find his way back to his former world. Everything he ever needed was here. Food, drink, and Calypso. The goddess had captivated him, mind, body, and soul. He never wanted to leave her.

Calypso scurried ahead of him, almost dancing as she ran. She splashed into the spray of the sea beckoning him to join her. He scampered after her like a child. He scurried into the water and swept her off the ground. He whirled her around a few times before he lost his balance and they both fell into the water.

The two lay there laughing too hard to stand. Calypso finally recovered enough to smile at him wickedly. She pressed a kiss to his nose and forehead, "Are you happy, me love?"

"Of course, I am," he declared. He sat up and returned her kisses. "Bless the seas. They sent me to you."

"Me love," she said with a warm smile, "I am de sea." She let her arms twine around him. They fell backwards into the spray again.

That was when Jones heard shouting. He bolted upright letting go of Calypso. He looked around trying to find the source of the yelling. "What's that?"

"Nothing," Calypso said quickly.

"No, I can hear something," Jones cried, "Someone else is here."

"Never mind."

"No, I must check!" Jones insisted. He got to his feet and pulled his spyglass out of his pocket. He searched the horizon. He saw nothing, but the seas.

"See," Calypso said, "It is nothing."

"No!" he insisted, "I know that I... there!" he saw one hand flail in the water. A small figure struggled to rise above the surface. He recognized him. "He's my cabin boy!" he cried, "We have to go get him."

"No!" Calypso grabbed his hand.

"What are you doing?!" Jones snapped.

"Dere's no helpin' him now," she said sadly.

"What?!"

"He's dead."

"Dead?!" Jones cried, "But I can see him out there!" Another figure was there alongside the boy. His first mate. Another next to him. His boatswain. "My crew!" he cried, "They're all out there! They're swimming! How can they be dead?!"

"Tis de fate of all who die at sea," Calypso said sadly turning away from the sight. "Wit' no one to ferry dem across to de ot'er world. Dey stay dere. Trapped."

Jones looked at his crew in disbelief, "I can't just let them stay there! I'll go save them! I have me ship!"

Calypso whirled around and met his eyes, "You would do dat? For dem?!"

"Yes," Jones said earnestly, "They're my crew!" Calypso tore her eyes away from him. "What's wrong?"

"If you go," Calypso said, "You go back to de world of de living. You can not return here. Dis is my realm. De realm of de goddess. You would not be welcome."

Jones froze. The thought of leaving Calypso made him sick to his stomach, but he couldn't just let his crew die! He had to help them. "Is there any way?" he asked, "Any way that I could see you again."

Calypso thought for a moment, "Dere is a way."

"What?!" Jones demanded.

"If you go," she said slowly, "You could serve me. You could ferry de souls of those who die at sea to de next world."

"And?"

"And every ten years," she said slowly, "And every ten years, you could come onto land." Her eyes met his, "Every ten years you could come home. You can come ashore."

"That's all you can do?!" Jones cried, "You're a goddess! Can't you make it one way or another?"

"I am not de only goddess," Calyspo said, "De others would not stand for more."

Jones sighed at the bittersweet proposition, "Every ten years? One day every ten years." Calypso nodded. "Then, that's what it will have to be." Calypso frowned sadly. Jones lifted Calypso's chin, "Will you wait for me?"

Calypso's playful grin crossed her face, "Of course." Jones clutched Calypso tightly. He kissed her lips one last time before he headed for his ship.

-888-

"Rum!" Captain Teague declared while holding up a bottle as though it were holy wine, "Rum, my boy, is the answer to all life's problems." He took a deep swig as his son listened distractedly. He was a scrawny boy with shaggy brown hair buried beneath a red bandana. He wasn't listening to carefully to his father. He had bigger problems to worry about. Like explaining the tattoo on his wrist to his mother. He looked at it anxiously. One of the ladies at The Merry Bandit had given it to him the last time they had put into port. It was a picture of a sparrow in flight. It had hurt very badly to get, but it was so incredible looking!

He heard his mother yell out. "Captain Teague! Get up on your feet! There's chores that need doing! Decks that need swabbing. Sails need mending! Stop lazing about drinking that rum! We don't have shillings to spare for rum after all. Jack needs new shoes! And I need a new apron. You promised you'd pick them up at the next port, but no you give all our earnings to the rum runners! What sort of excuse of a man does that?"

Captain Teague scowled and got to his feet, "Shut yer face woman!" he bellowed, "I'm the captain and I can do what I want! I have crew members for the chores! And since I earn the money. I can spend how I see fit!" Captain Teague scowled and sat down again. "Rum boy. Most important stuff you can buy." He took another long swig.

Jack's parents had been squabbling ever since Jack had been born. His mum had been a prostitute at the Merry Bandit. His father had been just another customer until nine months later his mum had given birth. The Merry Bandit's inn keeper had kicked her out immediately after. The next time Captain Teague and his crew arrived at Tortuga she had insisted that he take her and the baby with him. Captain Teague had agreed. He regretted that decision every day of his life.

She was no longer the comely young woman she used to be. She was quite round and always yelling at him. Her nagging never ceased. She came out of the cabin and gave him a second earful. "You work your crew so hard that one day they'll all drop dead and you'll have to do the work yourself! And don't you care about your son?! His feet will freeze someday! Freeze right off! And you'll have only yourself to blame."

"Nag! Nag! Nag!" Captain Teague yelled, "Is that all you ever do?! I swear, woman! One day I'll sew your lips shut. Jack!"

"Aye captain," Jack said cheekily.

"Have we put into port yet?" he asked.

"Yes, pa," Jack said, "About two hours ago."

"Good," Captain Teague muttered, "He handed Jack a handful of coins, "Go buy yourself a bloody pair of shoes. Perhaps that will cease your mother's nagging for a while. And promise that you'll be quick about it."

"I promise," Jack muttered before he scampered off the ship.

He bought his new shoes quickly, just like his father had told him to, and made his way back towards the ship. He was almost back when he heard someone yelling. "We need crew members! Taking all sorts! Sign up right here!"

Jack inched closer and closer to the man and his table. A chance to sail with a normal crew? Or better yet a chance to get away from his squabbling parents. It was brilliant! The chance he had been waiting for. He hurried to get in line. The man looked down at him, "A bit scrawny, but you'd make a good cabin boy. What be your name boy?"

Jack bit his lip. He couldn't use his real name. His father was too well known. They would send him back immediately. He looked down at his arm and suddenly inspiration struck him, "What be your name boy?" the man asked again.

"Jack," he said with a bold grin, "Jack Sparrow."

-888-

Mrs. Turner rose very early one morning. She got up stiffly and walked down the hallway. "Good morning, my darling," she said with a smile. She pulled back the covers of the bed and jumped back in surprise. He was gone!"

"Oh my God!" she cried. She quickly searched the house. She tried to fight back the panic she was feeling. He was nowhere in the house. She scampered out of the little cottage and gazed about the yard. There he was. Sitting at the end of the dock. Mrs. Turner pressed a hand to her heart. "Will!" she cried.

The boy at the end of the dock turned and smiled at her. "Morning mum!" he said brightly.

Mrs. Turner walked to the edge of the dock and sat besides her son. She gently tousled hid dark brown curls, "You gave me such a fright! What are you doing out here at this hour?!"

"I'm waiting," Will said, "Waiting for papa."

Mrs. Turner frowned, "For papa?"

"Aye," Will said with a big smile, "He said he would come home for my birthday."

"When did he say that, darling?" Mrs. Turner asked gently.

"In his last letter," Will said.

"Darling, that was when you were two years old," Mrs. Turner said, "Five years ago."

"But he said that he would come," Will insisted, "He promised."

Mrs. Turner pursed her lips scornfully, "Aye, and your father's such a good one for keeping his promises after all." She gently placed a hand on her son's shoulder. "Come now, Will. Let's go inside."

Will let out a sigh and followed his mother. The rest of the day passed. It was a great day for Will. His mother had even baked his favorite pie for dessert. His mother had even given him a whittling knife for his birthday. He spent the entire day using it to make a wooden toy sword. He held it up to his mother proudly. "That's very nice, William," she smiled.

"Someday, when I'm big," Will said, "I'll make real swords."

"Fetch your coat, darling," Mrs. Turner said.

William excitedly snatched his cloak and hat from the hook by the door. "Are we going to town, mama?!" he asked.

"Yes," Mrs. Turner said with a smile, "It's a very special day after all."

Will let out a wild whoop of joy as his mother buttoned up his coat. It wasn't very often that they went into town. It was a few miles away and quite the trek. Will ran ahead stabbing at imaginary villains with his toy sword. He stopped short and hurried back to his mother's side excitedly, "Do you suppose that father will be waiting for us at the dock in town?!"

His mother frowned, "I wouldn't get my hopes up, Will."

"Then, where is he?" Will asked.

Mrs. Turner let out a heavy sigh, "Sailing. Sailing somewhere in his ship."

"Fighting pirates?!" Will asked eagerly.

Mrs. Turner's frown deepened, "Yes, I imagine he is." she answered truthfully.

That answer seemed to satisfy Will. He moved on to his next question, "What's he like, mama?"

Mrs. Turner fondly stroked her son's bouncy girls, "He looks like you. So much like you." Will beamed happily. "Oh look," Mrs. Turner said, "We've arrived. Here." she gave him a few coins. "Why don't you stop in the candy shop and get a treat. I'll meet you in the post office later."

"Thank you, mum!" Will cried. He hugged her leg tightly before scampering away. Mrs. Turner shook her head fondly as the boy nearly tripped over his own feet. Will was such a blessing. He didn't even know.

Mrs. Turner entered the post office and sent a letter to her mother when Will arrived. His pockets were full of candy and he was wearing most of a peppermint stick across his face. "Oh Will," Mrs. Turner sighed with a smile. She knelt next to him and pulled a handkerchief out of her apron pocket. She wiped his face with it. Will squirmed.

"Mama!" he groaned.

"Just hold still," she ordered.

"Ah Mrs. Turner!" the postmaster said, "Before I forget. There's a package for your boy."

"A package for me?!" Will cried eagerly.

"For William?" Mrs. Turner asked quizzically, "From who?"

"Cap'n Turner," the postmaster said. He handed a small package to Will. Will was about to start shredding open the paper, but his mother stopped him.

"Wait till we get home, Will," she said. Will groaned comically. They bid the postmaster farewell and began to make their way home. Will flew up the steps of the house and started ripping open the paper. A letter drifted to the floor which Mrs. Turner picked up.

"Wow!" Will cried happily, "Look mama! Look!" He held up a golden medallion. It sparkled in the fading light. Mrs. Turner took out a pair of spectacles and investigated it closer. There was an intricate design on it. A skull. How beastly! She thought to herself. Of course, William will still love it.

"What's the letter say, mama?" Will asked.

Mrs. Turner looked at the letter curiously. She opened the letter delicately. Will crawled into his mother's lap. Mrs. Turner dropped the letter and began to read the letter. "For my dearest William. Today you are five years old."

"See mama!" Will cried happily, "Papa sent me a birthday present!"

"Hmmph!" Mrs. Turner grumbled, "Two years late!"

"Maybe papa's bad with his numbers," Will said, "What else does it say?"

"My dearest William," Mrs. Turner continued, "Today you are five years old. You are doubtlessly growing up into a fine young man. I wish that I could see you more, but sadly that cannot be. Here is a present for you. It's pure Aztec gold. Mind your mother. I hope to see you someday soon! Your father."

"He hopes to see me soon!" Will cried happily, "Then, maybe he will come back!"

"William," Mrs. Turner said with a sigh, "I believe it's time you got to bed."

"Yes, Mama," Will said pressing a kiss to her cheek, "I love you mama."

"I love you too," she said, "Happy birthday, my darling boy."

Will hugged her tightly before climbing into bed. Mrs. Turner reread the letter while he changed into his nightshirt. I hope to see you someday soon! That was a lie! That was an utter lie! She had been a fool to think that she could change Bootstrap Bill. The sea had called him and he would never return to their little cottage. Someday Will would learn that.

-888-

"You look right sharp, captain."

Jones smiled at his young cabin boy's compliment. "I hope so," he said, "It's a very special day."

"Where's she going to wait for you?" the cabin boy asked.

"Over there," Jones pointed out at the horizon. A small island shack was built there. "That's where I'll meet her."

"Well, best of luck to you sir," the cabin boy said. Jones nodded as he began to climb down the ladder. It had been a long ten years. He had saved his crew. Most of them were so grateful that they had sworn service to Jones. They vowed to help him escort more lost souls to the afterlife. For ten years they sailed across the seas, rescuing victims from the sea and their cruel fate. They had been faithful and selfless for ten years, but now it was time for him to be selfish. His lady was waiting.

-888-

The first mate was the only one left on the deck. The rest of the crew had been sleeping peacefully. He heard his captain clammer up the latter. "Ahoy, boss!" he said with a cheeky smile, "And how was your lady love?"

Jones's face was dark as a storm cloud. "Set sail."

"Oh," The first mate said with a surprise, "Of course. Where to?"

"Anywhere!" Jones bellowed, "Just get away from this place."

"Aye, captain," he said quickly hurrying to find the crew. Jones stared at the water, hurt beyond words. Calypso. His one. His only. She knew how important this day was! She knew that if he only had one day. Their day. She knew!

Then, why didn't she come?