Part 2 : Reality Check!
A sharp rocking sensation woke me out of my daze. Apparently, it had woken both me and Jetta out of our daze(s).
"Jetta?" I said, "What did you do to your eyeliner. You look like a goth." That was the first, and very irrelevant thing that I said to her before I realized where we were.
"Well, I wouldn't be talking," she said matter-of-factly. That girl always has something to say. She had all this black stuff around her eyes, put on really dark, mind that. Some fashion statement, really. But anyways, apparently I had it too. I reached my hand up to my eyelid and rubbed it there, then looked at my index finger. The tip was black with something that looked a little like pencil lead. Never mind that, I felt some strange weight on the top of my head. Reaching up, I pulled it off. A three corner hat?!?
"What the..." I looked at Jetta and noticed that she had on some very strange other get-up: a brown waistcoat, pants and a white shirt under another brown shirt like thing.
"Is today Halloween or something?" I said, hoping to get an answer that would explain this.
"I thought you might know," said Jetta.
"This is sort of a strange outfit," I commented. Okay, strange was an understatement. "Did we decide to wear this today to school last night or something?"
"Don't look at me!" said Jetta, defensively. "You would be the one wanting to dress like a pirate, not me!"
"Wait a second, what? Pirate? You're right. That's it! We're dressed like pirates. This must be a dream! Yeah!" Now, I know. That is a stupid explanation. I am fully aware of that fact. But, if you woke up dressed like a pirate, not knowing where you are, what would you say happened? Plus, I am such a big fan of Pirates of the Caribbean that I have frequent dreams of being a pirate myself, so its not uncommon for me. But Jetta didn't believe me too much about that.
"A dream, Meghan? Yes I'm sure of that," she replied sarcastically.
"Can't you see? Big fan of pirates plus wake up in pirates clothes equals pirate dream!"
"Yeah, that part makes sense," said Jetta, rolling her eyes at me. "Except that this seems a little too, well, real to be a dream. You know, you don't really have this much thought or perception or stuff in dreams."
"I guess..." I said, deftly pinching her in the arm.
"OW! What was that for?!?"
"You shouldn't be in this dream anymore since that pinch woke you up!"
"Well, what if this is your dream, then you can still be thinking about me and I don't have to be dreaming the same thing. You whole dream theory is totally off."
"No, because you even said that this is a lot of thinking that we are having in this dream, so we must be dreaming simultaneously."
"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. What do we have? Twin telepathy?"
That's another thing about the Meghan and Jetta camaraderie that I forgot to mention: we fight a lot about stupid stuff.
"No, but if I'm talking to you, and you're talking to me, and if we're even having such an animated, stupid fight, then we've got to be thinking about the same thing!"
"Well, think me out of it! This is getting pretty scary that we haven't woken up yet. Anyway, if this is YOUR dream about Pirates of the Caribbean than where's your beloved Jack Sparrow? Huh?"
"Maybe if you would stop dreaming Will Turner than he would actually be here right now!"
"Meghan."
"Jetta."
Fed up with the current situation, I stood up quickly deciding that this little debate was hopeless and feeling a weight on my shoulder. Probably my messenger bag. But I looked down to realize none of the contents at the end of the strap of my "bag" were in sight. Instead, there was...a sword?!? I drew it and it made that swift whispering sound when it clear the holster. Being the less serious of the camaraderie of Jetta and Meghan, I waved it around.
"Look, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow!" I said to Jetta as a slashed eagerly at the air. That thing was heavier than I thought and I found it falling rather lopsided around in my hand.
"Careful! You're gonna chop my head of!" said Jetta, smiling and drawing hers, forgetting about our last little dispute.
Suddenly, a powerful rocking motion tipped us both over and we found ourselves on the floor once again, swords splayed to the side.
"Ouch," said Jetta, "What was that?"
"Do I look like I know?"
Upon saying that, I carefully replaced that sword back in its holster because if we fell again we might find ourselves self-skewered. That would not be a pretty sight.
"According to you, if we're in a dream, then where ARE we anyway?"
It was the first time that the two of us had actually taken a good look at our surroundings. We were in a dank, dark room, lit by little lanterns hanging around on hooks and beams. The floor felt wet and the air was heavy and sticky. I turned around to get a 360 degree panorama of this place and found that the entirety of the walls was lined like a wine cellar. Not too fully stocked, I must say. Bottles housed in the shelves were few and far between. Smelled weird too, like the inside of a rum barrel.
"Have you noticed that this looks peculiarly like the rum storage on the Black Pearl?" I said shakily.
"I've tried not too," said Jetta, not a big fan of pirates.
"Oh my God! Do you think we're REALLY onboard the Black Pearl?" I asked excitedly. "Because if we are this is the best dream ever!"
I think I heard Jetta mutter something like, "or the worst" but I chose to ignore that claim, because trying to get Jetta to like Pirates was just like trying to get Jack's compass to point north: so not happening.
The ship creaked again and we were thrown against the wall, then propelled forward again. I tried to hold onto the shelves until the boat steadied, but then resorted to just sitting down where there was nowhere else to fall.
Suddenly, we heard a voice, coming from what looked like a stairway in the darkness. Someone was coming down the stairs, into the bilges! Frozen with fear, we could only stare at a strange, portly figure making his way down into the cellars, humming the familiar tone of "Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me!" He thrust his bottle of rum into the air and drank thirstily, then stopped mid-gulp. "Mary mother of god!" he exclaimed.
I did a little, nervous wave, now realizing that he had noticed us. "Stowaways! Aboard the Black Pearl?"
"Well, actually, not really, I mean, we never, we never really chose to stay on this ship," I stuttered, trying to think of an explanation.
"What she's actually trying to say is that she got us into this mess," said Jetta, giving me the look.
The strange me leaned forward into the lamplight to get a closer look. It was GIbbs!
"Mr. Gibbs? What are you doing in my dream?"
"Best come with me to see the Cap'n, little ladies," said Gibbs.
The captain? That couldn't possibly be...no, no, it couldn't be. Then dreams would REALLY COME TRUE!! But anyway, come on. That is too good to be true. Who am I kidding? Deciding it was best to follow him out of the hull, I grabbed Jetta and pulled along with me. We walked up the creaking stairs that led to another level of the ship where there were several swinging hammocks and rocking rum bottles, probably recently vacated. Carefully, picked our way about the swinging hammocks and to another set of stairs.
"Is this a dream?" Jetta seemed like she wanted a third opinion.
"Nye it isn't. If it wasn't for this blasted rum I'd be able ta tell ye for shure, but no, I don't believe it is," replied Gibbs, halting at the foot of the stairs.
"Ha! I told you so!" said Jetta to me. "Now, Mr. Gibbs."
"Aye?"
"Where are we, exactly?"
"Where did ye think ye are? Ur aboard the Black Pearl!"
"Got any explanations for this one?" Jetta muttered to me.
"Well, if we're not in a dream about Pirates, then maybe we're on the set! We could be extras you know, but I don't honestly know how we coulda managed that."
Not being able to think of a better explanation, I guess, Jetta took mine for an answer and continued to follow Gibbs.
The last set of stairs came to an abrupt halt and we peeked our heads into the open air. I couldn't believe the site, an actual ship! Crew members swabbed the deck, pulled ropes and shouted orders. The whole deck was a frenzy of drinking mixed with crewing the Pearl. As soon as we stepped onto the main deck, everyone seemed to stop what they were doing and stare.
"Back to work, the lot 'a ya!" shouted Gibbs, but no one listened. I had this odd feeling they were staring at us. And just for the record, that is not a good feeling. Gibbs led us over to a figure with a long waistcoat and black dreadlocks. He had taken on a strange stance and swagger with his back turned to us, looking out at the sea.
"Cap'n."
He swung around in response to Gibbs, flailing a heavily jeweled hand to one side and regarding us with a quirked eyebrow. It took me two seconds of staring, and then I realized who he was. "You, you're Captain Jack Sparrow!"
To be continued...