Chapter 4 – Tortuga
"You're Rebecca?"
"Yes…"
"We've been waiting for you."
"Who are you?"
"Oh…" one blonde woman said lightly. "I'm Simone, this is Yolande, and the little one is Giselle."
"Pleasure."
"Drusilla used to stay in our house when she first got here. She always said you'd be here."
"Simone, just tell her."
"Brace yourself for this. Drusilla was killed a month ago."
Rebecca burst into tears. The three girls sat her at a table and gave her a cup of hot tea.
"Calm down, fille jolie. We will take care of you." Rebecca sipped her tea and tried to keep her head up. She wished that Alan was there to console her. A man came up to Simone and brushed his hand across her behind. Simone and Yolande laughed. It was then that Rebecca realized what they were. She may have been young, but Rebecca wasn't stupid. If she got involved with these girls, she knew it would lead to a life in a house of ill repute.
Rebecca bolted out of the tavern and out to the docks. Simone, Yolande, and Giselle followed at her heels. Rebecca looked around for her ship, but it was gone, a tiny speck on the horizon. She felt the sting of tears behind her eyes, and then she cried. She felt as if her stomach had been twisted into knots. Now she REALLY had nothing. Rebecca opened the letter her mother had given her before leaving Portugal and reread it over and over.
"He sails upon a ship known as the Black Pearl," Rebecca whispered to herself.
"The Black Pearl?" Yolande said, turning to her girls.
"I'm looking for my father."
"Aren't we all?" Yolande said coldly. Rebecca shoved the letter back into her rucksack and lunged at Yolande.
"Oooh, Kitty's got claws, Simone…."
"Shut up, yeh heartless Harpies," an extremely odd and drunk man bellowed.
"Looks like Kitty found what she was looking for…" Yolande smirked as the girls went back towards the tavern. Rebecca looked at the drunken man. Maybe he might be able to help her. After all, he had chased off the prostitutes.
"Are you hurt?"
"No."
"I thought not. Come on, you need rest."
"Where are you taking me?" Rebecca screamed as the man took her by the wrist.
"You said you wanted to see the Black Pearl?"
"In a manner of speaking."
"I'll take you to her."
"Wait! Who are those girls?"
"Whores. And if you want to live a life of prostitution and be press-ganged into their society, then I suggest going with them."
"No, thank you."
"Precisely."
"Who are you?"
"Who I am is not the more pressing matter."
"Then what is?"
"Where."