Chapter Seven

The Stroll

Barbossa became a part of daily life. We all sort of had to ease into it- Karissa growling each time he passed by, Gibbs edging away, and I warily avoiding him and wearing my leather jacket over my tight black shirt a lot more often.

But it was our very own Jack that reacted the most violently.

The day after the candlelight incident, Jack woke me up himself, as he always did, and, as he always did, left the cabin so I could get dressed. (I had caught him trying to peek once—that little scene ended in a hurry.) I could already tell it was going to be a windy day. Empty rum bottles rolled around the cabin as I pulled my shirt on. Dried pineapple spilled from the drawers. Some gold pieces tumbled out of Jack's sack… Wait, those were mine! I rolled my eyes and tucked them in my pocket.

"I'm dressed!" I called to the pirate on the other side of the door.

It flung open and Jack entered. "I say, love, you look even more beautiful than usual. May I inquire as to the occasion?"

He held his arm out to escort me, and I marveled at this. "Jack. Since when did you become such a gentleman?"

"I always escort you, my love," replied the captain, looking pleased at my question.

"But something about you has changed," I insisted.

Jack shrugged, and held out his arm more urgently.

I took it and resisted the urge to cross-examine him further. I also sort of had to resist taking him back into the cabin and thrusting the Spanish guitar in his hands again.

On the way to the table where Jack, Karissa, Gibbs and I usually ate, Barbossa stood.

"Orders, Captains?" His voice sounded amused, yet the look on his face was serious.

"Nothing," I declined shortly. Jack held me tighter, and we breezed by him.

After a quick breakfast, Jack had gone back to our cabin and I was with Karissa at the wheel-she was steering. Barbossa approached us.

"If I may have the honor of strolling with you, Captain?" he asked me.

My brain screamed, "Don't do it! It might be a trap! What if he makes off with you?"

But my heart whispered calmly, "This is how you'll get the answers to your problems. You'll learn a bit on this walk, you will."

My brain quieted down, and I stood up. "You may," I approved. He hooked his arm through mine, which made me cringe a little, but I let him lead me.

We were silent for a while, then my nemesis spoke. "You do know the reason I kidnapped you."

"You knew I was the one. You recognized the hair."

"Exactly. I suppose there were more humane ways, but what if you didn't believe me, or if you didn't want to? The brunette…"

"Karissa?"

"That's the one. She was so annoyingly insistent on saving you that I had to take her along. Pointless, friendship. Risks your own life."

"Friendship isn't pointless," I argued. "Have you ever had anyone risk their life for yours?"

"Not that I know of."

We continued in silence. I had been tense, but I began to lean against Barbossa's arm. He stopped and we came to a rest, gazing out at the sea.

"When you escaped," Barbossa continued, "I remember being both appalled and delighted. Appalled because you had slipped through my very fingers, and because of that grave mistake I could find myself on Davy's ship. Delighted because of your cunningness, creativity, skill with a blade. If anyone can defeat Davy, it's you, my sweet."

"Thank you," I said blandly. Wind blew fiercely, tossing my golden hair over my shoulders.

"You seem concerned, dear. Something unanswered lurks beneath those hazel eyes." He put a hand on my chin and guided my face to turn towards him. "What is your question?"

"How…" I stopped, swallowed, tried again. "How…" Almost got it that time. "How do you know Jack?"

"Sparrow and I go back a long ways." Barbossa's cold, emotionless gray eyes were pools of memory. "He worked on my crew. Thought that I killed too much. Committed mutiny. I had some loyal crew mates find their way back to the island that dog marooned me on…" Somehow I knew that wasn't the whole story. Barbossa was holding something back.

"Don't call Jack a dog." The words came to my mouth automatically, and I replayed them in my head, surprised that I would say such a thing when I had called him names much worse than dog.

Barbossa studied me. "Rumors, my sweet, rumors are swirling in Tortuga, as mysterious as the morning fog, that Captain Jack Sparrow truly loves Captain Sade River."

"Rumors are stupid," I dismissed.

"Unbelievable, people are saying. Jack's never loved a soul."

"Exactly."

"Others say that the beauty…" he snatched a lock of my hair and began to play with it. "Just might be able to tame the beast."

I turned around and stomped my foot. "Are you crazy? A hundred seventy, Hector. Remember that fateful number."

With that I headed back to Karissa and the steering wheel. Behind me, I heard Barbossa whisper, "A hundred seventy-one is the charm, darling."