That night Jack and I along with a few misfits and scallywags sat behind the bushes at the dock, trying to decide which ship to commandeer.

"Wha' 'bout that one Capt'n?" A pirate with a patch over his left eye pointed toward a ship on the left. The sails were tattered, the main mast was bent, and the entire ship was tilting to one side.

Jack and I looked at each other and concluded, "Naw."

"That one don't look too bad," Jack pointed out a ship directly ahead of us.

"Exactly," I agreed, "not too bad. With a hammer and some nails and half a sycamore tree, it would be exceptional." Jack crossed his arms grumpily, knowing I was right, as I continued, "Now, there's gotta be somethin' better in this port. What about that one?" I gestured to the right with my head.

"Now, she's a beauty," the patch man gawked.

"I always have fancied Anamaria's ship," Jack added.

"Well, it's decided then. Let's take it." I stood up, ready to go.

"You wait a second Lad," Jack ordered, pulling me back down. "Ye see those two guard o'er there? Somehow, we've got to get past them un-noticed." I looked at him understandingly as he began to tell me his plan.

In no time at all, I found myself running toward the two guards screaming, "Guards! Wait…please!"

The two guards had been walking away from me, but the turned around when they heard me. When I finally caught up with them, I pretended to be exhausted, panting as I said, "Look over there…someone's stealing the ship."

Meanwhile, Jack had gone over to one of the other ships and cut her loose. As the ship drifted further and further from the beach, I sent the guards chasing after it. Then, I waved Jack and the crew over to me, and we boarded Anamaria's ship. Jack started shouting orders, and the crew obeyed—unfurling sails, raising the anchor, packing gunpowder, some of them vomiting over the edge, etc. But there was one thing that none of us noticed until one of the pirates headed below deck to exploit the rum supply. There in the storage room, sat an entire other crew of pirates playing poker around a table.

The young man crouched in a corner eavesdropping on them, when they first realized the ship was moving. He quietly snuck back up and reported what he saw to the pirate with the patch over his eye. The message quickly passed around, as the pirates whispered it to everyone but Jack and me. We didn't even notice anything was up until they all screamed, "Abandon ship!" and jumped overboard. By then, though, he and I were already back-to-back and surrounded by the other crew. Jack immediately pulled out his sword, ready to fight all of them at once. I, however, took a totally different approach to it.

"Shh," I commanded everyone, "we're trying to hide from her."

"Who?" Jack whispered to me over his shoulder.

"The one that's been chasing us," I replied quietly, acting paranoid. Everyone just looked at me like I was crazy, which was the desired result. One of the pirates glanced at Jack questioningly. He just shrugged. That didn't help me any.

"There she is!" I exclaimed, pointing out to the sea. As soon as everyone had turned to see her, I pointed the other direction, "Now she's there, behind the sails!" I once again waited for everyone to turn and realize there was no one there and then continued, "Man! You guys are slow. I can't believe you missed her."

"Boy," one of the pirates said, "there is no one there." He grabbed me by the wrist.

"Well of course not! She's gone now."

And then, all of a sudden, I heard a woman's voice in my head. "What's all this fuss about?" I freaked out because I believed that I actually was going crazy.

The pirate dropped me, and I fell to my butt. I concluded the voice must have been real if he reacted that way. The voice had come from behind me, so I turned around to face it.

"Anamaria," Jack began, "what a surprise to see you."

"Oh, and I would be the one you'd least expect to see on MY ship," she replied sarcastically.

"It's your boat?" Jack acted surprised again. "Well, we were just—"

"Stealing my ship," Anamaria finished for him.

"I was actually thinking 'about to leave,' but—"

"Good, then I'll escort you out…savvy?" She mocked his constant tendency.

"Now what are we gonna do?" I asked the next morning as I sat next to jack in a jail cell—and yes, as surprising as it may seem, they do have law enforcement in Tortuga.

"They'll release us after breakfast an' we'll try again," he replied.

"You seem absolutely certain of that. How would you know?"

"They're pirates, Lad, an' the one thing pirates can not resist is a bribe."

"And how do you propose to 'buy our freedom'?" I wondered, reverting back to properness like I did sometimes.

"With this," he answered, tossing a bag of gold between us. He continued, "Just before I stopped your fight yesterday, I took this from another man at his table."

"So that's why you didn't feel bad 'bout givin' all 'is stuff back!" I realized, "You'd stolen more!"

"No," Jack corrected, "pirates do not steal. They commandeer because stealing implies you got caught, an'…stealing is illegal. Savvy?"

"An' commandeering isn't?" I questioned. I knew already that commandeering was just as illegal as stealing. Probably worse, as it always somehow involved the government and military. I just wanted to hear his explanation, but I never got that chance. At that very moment, the door at the end of the hall banged open, and a man walked in.

Jack stood up and prepared for the bribe. He brushed off his pants, pulled down his vest, and straightened his hat, even though he didn't really look any better. Instead of just walking towards us, however, the man stopped and held the door open for another man…Dan. I just sat in the back of the cell watching Jack, who, in a confused way, leaned against the door watching the two men come towards us. They stopped for a second by a desk across the hall. Dan gave the guard some money, like Jack spoke about, and then they came and unlocked the cell door.

I got up and smiled at Jack, joking, "It seems that I've gotten out instead of you."

"You're not getting out of anything," Dan said grumpily contradicting the guard who removed my handcuffs. Then, Dan just turned and walked away. I stood there frowning. He didn't usually act like that.

A few steps away, Dan stopped and asked, "Well, are you coming or not?" Without saying another word, he turned and kept walking, and I followed.

As soon as we got out of the prison, I questioned, "Is something wrong Danny? I mean, you seem—"

"Is something wrong?" He repeated, facing me for only a second. "You're what's wrong."

"What did I do?" I had to run to keep up with him.

"You know what you did," he paused and waited for me to say something, but when I didn't, he continued, "You disobeyed me, again!"

"But…" I had to think for a second, "I had a reason this time."

"What was your reason for betting on the wrong ship, completely abandoning the whole mission, and getting arrested with Jack Sparrow?"

"The ships changed," I explained, hoping it would be good enough for him. "The Desolator wasn't in the rankings anymore. It was the Pearl."

"So? I told you to bet on the Mauvais. A change in the opponent shouldn't make a difference."

"You would have me bet against my own ship?"

"That was the point, yes. The group should have wanted to accept you because of who you were pretending to be, not because you won them the bet. And it's always harder for people to place their confidence in the losing side."

"But the group wouldn't accept me either way unless I got in a bar fight."

"Then why didn't you?"

"I almost did!" I replied, "But then someone helped me to realize that hurting someone who did nothing to you wasn't worth it."

"And what is worth it? Stealing the ship of the daughter of the richest pirate in the world?" He paused for emphasis, "and yet you seemed to have no problem running off with that insolent, self-centered, hygiene-less, pirate Jack Sparrow, to do just that…I can't keep teaching you to bug Wesley, or pirate even, as long as your loyalties lie only with yourself."

"But, I'm loyal to my ship, by betting for it."

"Wesley, accepting an offer from Jack to 'fight the Pearl and win' is in no way being loyal to your ship. Jack used to be your captain, but he isn't anymore."

For a moment we walked on in an awkward silence, but I couldn't help but wonder, "How do you know so much about what happened?"

"News travels fast in a town full of drunkards and spies."

"What?" I mumbled to myself as I tried to figure it out.

After another second, Dan brought out, "You know this was your last chance. You've made one last mistake under my roof, and I'm sending you back to your ship." He grabbed me by the ear and dragged me silently back home.

Thankfully, it wasn't a long ways to Dan's house. However, the second we walked in the door, he called over his assistant and commanded, "I want you to write me a letter saying: 'Dear Barbossa, Captain of the Black Pearl, It is to my dismay that I must urge you to return and retrieve Wesley Swann due to his utter disrespect—'"

"Disrespect!" I exclaimed, "Danny you can't say that!" I complained even though I realized it was a little true.

But he just continued, "'Disobedience, dishonesty, discordance with my rules…'" Then he asked me, "What other dis- words are there?"

"Disregard, but—"

"Good one."

Great, I thought, I'm writing my own death sentence.

"'He has undeniably disregarded so many things I have taught him, it's disgusting! I highly suggest his dismissal from any prominent positions immediately. I will describe the details of this disfavorable release upon your prompt return.'"

That entire time I had been trying to interrupt, and when he finally stopped to collect his thoughts, I had the perfectly worded response of, "While I very much dislike the dissemination of mistruths, your discouraging dissertation has only served to make me more disinclined to acquiesce to any discipline you might dispense."

"What?" Dan asked, completely lost in the dis-s.

"Exactly," I said, taking it a totally different way. "Nothing you're saying makes any sense. Sure, I was dishonest…when you told me, and contrary to what you've said, that is o-bedience. In reality, I find myself quite discrete and discerning."

"Discerning, huh? Well, if you're so discerning, why don't you go to your room and 'discern' what Barbossa will do to you when he gets here," he commanded and then he continued with the letter.

I stood there for a second. What would Barbossa do? I wondered, turning toward my room. As I walked up the stairs, I thought of all the things that had been done to me, and then everything horrible ever in the Jason stories. I imagined what I would feel like if it happened all at once. I stopped breathing, my stomach dropped, and my eyes glossed over. There was nothing there, no fear, no pain, just nothing.

"That's it," I sighed, "I'm going to die." I was so engulfed by the empty, helpless feeling that I wanted to lay on my bed and not get up until Barbossa came and killed me. However, when I pushed my door open, expecting to see an empty room, I almost didn't notice Edmund and Christopher, their groups, and Becca scattered across the floor.

They looked up when they heard me close the door. I was so overwhelmed that I put my hand on my forehead, moaned, and slid to the floor. I closed my eyes for a few seconds, and when I opened them again, both groups were surrounding me with angry eyes. Becca watched intently from a distance. Edmund picked me up off the floor by my shirt and glared into my eyes for a while. It was obvious that he was mad. I didn't know why, but I didn't care. I was going to die anyways.

He said something about my southern accent and then pushed me at someone else in his group. They pushed me around for a while, all complaining about not fighting, running off with Jack, and other stuff I didn't pay any attention to. And then, finally someone stood up for me.

"Come on you guys. None of that stuff has anything to do with you," the researcher started, but he didn't get a chance to say anything else.

Instead, the hi guy interrupted, "You know what, Mark's right." He continued as he rallied Christopher and the boy who said hello to stand between Edmund's group and me, "Wesley didn't do those things to you; he did them to us. Let us take care of the traitor." He shoved Edmund out of the way.

Edmund threw his hands up, took one step back, and replied, "All right then."

The hi guy pulled out a small dagger. Everyone gasped and took a step back—including Eric and mini-Ragetti, who had each been holding one of my arms. At the same time, he said, "Fight me Wesley, fight me."

Immediately, Mark argued, 'That's not what I meant, and you know it!"

But he just repeated, "Fight me Wesley."

All of a sudden it dawned on me that they were so mad at me because they had seen the whole thing. Dan was so mad at me because they had told him. They were also the explanation for that one thing Dan had said: a town full of spies and drunkards. Drunkards, I thought for a second, How were they drunkards? I hardly had time to realize that they weren't before I noticed the circle that had reformed, this time around the hi guy and me. He stood there, knife in hand, glare in his eyes. This was revenge. He had said from the beginning I was not to be trusted, and he knew he was right. I just stared gloomily at the floor.

"Aren't ye going to fight back?" Eric asked.

I shook my head.

"What!" The hi guy frowned, taken aback by my response.

"No!" I shouted, trying not to cry—because Dan says pirates don't cry.

"Your loss," he said, coming towards me. "You owe us a pair of eyes."

For a moment, I was scared. I pushed myself up against the wall, ducked, closed my eyes, covered my head, and waited for the worst. It seemed like forever that I sat there imagining over and over that he'd stabbed me, listening as he crept closer and closer. And then…thump… something had fallen, but somehow, it wasn't me. I looked up. Standing there was Becca, arm out, and the hi guy was lying on the floor, unhurt, but shocked.

She commanded, "As written in the code, set down by the honorable Morgan and Bartholomew, as recorded by Philips, 'Damned be ye who dareth to draw thy sword against he who has none, or despite his ownership refuses to use it.'" She paused for a second, "Take that as a warning. Now go."

They remained motionless.

"Shoo, I said! Leave!" She ushered them out. Then, she turned back to me as I stood up. "What happened?" She asked, truly concerned. "I was looking forward to proving your talent. I thought for sure you'd show them all up. But you didn't Wesley. You didn't even try. Why not?"

"Why should I?" I responded, turning away. "I'm going to die anyhow."

"Nonsense Wesley. Why do you say that?"

I faced her again with a look that said, 'Don't you know? Everybody else does.' She didn't reply, so I explained, "So I made a mistake! Is it that big of a deal? But now, Danny is going to fail me—which doesn't really bother me, except, he's writing this letter to Barbossa using all these over exaggerated words. And then Barbossa is going to think things are so much worse than what they are, and he'll kill me for sure!"

"Wesley," she stated so calmly as she squatted down and gently held my shoulders. "It's not going to be that bad. You'll see, everything will be fine. Really."

SO MUCH FOR THAT! No more than one week later, I stood on the beach of Tortuga listening to yet another person yell and scream at me for what I'd done.

"What do you expect me to say to this?" Barbossa asked angrily, waving the letter around in the air after a long line of ranting. "What can I say? You hurt me Wesley. Running off with Jack to destroy me! You deserve to die for that! And Dan tells me you spoke to him before you made it to the school. You directly violated my orders."

Dan, who was standing behind me, crossed his arms and nodded his head as if urging, 'Yeah, you tell him Barbossa."

"Yeah, but—" I started.

"But what? He saved your life? You didn't know he was working for me? You had just spent two hours locked in a room with people who were convinced you were deaf?"

"No!" I protested quickly, but then I paused for a second, distracted by something else. "How do you know that?"

"Do you ask a French man how he knows French? No, he just does. I'm a pirate Wesley. Pirates know everything."

"Everything?" I asked doubtfully, adding to myself, I'm a pirate too, and people would argue that fact about me.

"Everything," he repeated. He clasped my hands in shackles as he continued, "Like how to walk to the jail without saying a word to anyone." He paused and then turned toward the two pirates who stood behind him, "Johnny, Bo, to the boat!"

The two pirates slowly walked the twenty feet to the rowboat, whispering all the way. I then noticed that these were the same two pirates who had first led me to learn that Barbossa was the new captain, for our lovely 'discussion' that night. When they made it to the boat, though—Johnny and Bo on one side, Barbossa and I on the other—they stopped.

"What is it now?" Barbossa asked, hinting at his annoyance.

"Go on, say it," the older one elbowed the younger one, urging him to respond.

"'K," the younger began nervously, as if he had to muster up all his boldness first. "Well, I was thinkin'…"

"Never a good thing," Barbossa interrupted.

"Seein' as," the pirate continued, "Matthew's got a nickname, an' Bo here…that be 'is nickname. So I was thinkin', I be needin' a nickname too. Sos I've made up me mind. I's a wantin' that you'd call me Slackeh."

I guess now would be a good time to mention that Johnny—Slacker—was born and raised a pirate, thus having no grasp of the English language whatsoever; though, I didn't know that just yet.

"Why, I can't hardly believe you'd actually think that fits you Johnny," Barbossa replied sarcastically.

"I's serious sir! Call me Slackeh!"

"Whatever, just get in the boat." He pushed me in and then climbed in himself.

As Bo and "Slacker" climbed in, Bo whispered, "I'd give 'im three days 'fore that boy is dead."

"How much y'willin' ta bet?" Slacker whispered back.

"One case o' rum."

"Two, an' ye got a deal," and with that, they shook over the length of my life.