Book Four – Chapter One: Going Through the Motions
The days seemed to blur together. Captain Jack Sparrow slowly sunk into his usual routine of separation from his crew.
"You gonna make it, lad?" Bootstrap laughed one day at his captain.
"Of course. You make it sound like something's troubling me," the captain said.
"Even you can't deny it, Jack," Bootstrap chuckled.
Jack just grumbled to himself, trying to ignore his opinionated crewmate.
"Should have brought her home, though," Bootstrap said seriously now. "She's near too deep now, and so are you Jack."
"I used my best judgement," Jack said defensively.
"Yes, but a man's judgement is altered once he's been unmanned."
Jack just glared at him with one brow raised high.
"It gets easier, though," Bootstrap said. "The first bit hits you like a bad hurricane and leaves you tattered for the first year or so. After that you find yourself starting to breathe again, slowly, and just a little bit everyday. When you finally are able to convince yourself that she's better off, or that she's moved on - whatever it is you need to justify your absence - then you start to claim your life again."
"We are going back for her," Jack explained.
"If you treasure your freedom then you shouldn't. Even after all of these years I still dream of her," Bootstrap said as though he were lost in the thought.
Then Jack just became frustrated.
"Why are we even talking about this? Don't you have something to do? Deck! Go swab it or something!" Jack yelled.
Bootstrap smiled and backed away to do as his captain ordered.
Jack stomped away to the storage room and took hold of a bottle for himself. He wasted no time in getting it open and chugging down half of the contents. He slowly walked back to his own room where he shut himself in to finish the bottle. He sat at his chair and put his feet up on his desktop. He found the letter that Amelia gave him on his desk. He picked it up and looked it over without opening it. He examined the fragments of Amelia's writing that he could distinguish through the paper.
Jack was not looking forward to meeting her mother. He had no real reason to make a good impression, but for reasons beyond his own comprehension, Jack was determined to not be entirely disliked by her. It also meant that despite his strong desire otherwise, he should ensure himself to be entirely sober at the acquaintance. There was too much pressure involved than he felt should be necessary. After all, he is just delivering a letter. Then again, if it really was not so important, then why wasn't another crew member performing the task? Why must the captain take the time out of his duties to appease some old goat of a woman? Well, he did say that he would. In fact, he did offer to do so in the first place. And after all, it was for Amelia. Maybe this action would call off any search that was put out for her. Maybe Mrs. Crestcastle would be pleased with the captain's demeanour and be lenient with Amelia for having run off as she did. The captain did know himself to be fairly good at persuading people.
When the daunting day came, Captain Jack Sparrow revamped his general appearance. He tied his dark curls back and donned his newly cleaned hat. Though his clothes were not spotless or pressed, he still had the appearance of being in an officer rank. He checked his pocket six times before reaching the Crestcastle estate, ensuring that Amelia's letter was still with him. The estate itself intimidated the captain. All the attendants and guards made Jack doubly uneasy.
Jack pulled on his cuffs, making it certain that no one would notice the markings on his wrists. None of the people he passed spoke to him, only watched as he further approached the door. Jack kept looking behind him, certain that one of the men around him would be ready to throw him out on his behind for even going so close to such a fine establishment. He figured that all of their eyes must be on him, waiting for him to pocket something valuable, at which point there would be no hesitation to arrest him. The only reason this scenario seemed so vivid was that Jack could just as easily picture himself pocketing something out of habit.
Jack stepped up to the front door. He took hold of the knocker and tapped it three times. A servant opened the door. He asked for Jack's name and purpose. Jack supplied him with a false name and a half true purpose. The servant simply gave his head a single nod after hearing the responses and then received him into the house. The servant cleared his throat when it seemed that the captain had forgotten the etiquette of removing his hat in the house. Jack followed the instruction and held his hat in his hand.
Colonel Crestcastle came to him first. The servant introduced the stranger.
"A Mr. George Fruitsmith here to see you, Sir. He brings word from Ms. Boyd."
Jack bowed as his false name was being called. He had considered using the name Mr. Bacon but he associated that name purely with the pig and so would have difficulty answering to it seriously.
When the colonel heard the names Smith and Boyd, he immediately knew that the matter was regarding Ms. Amelia Barbossa. He asked for the guest to be shown into the drawing room. The Colonel debated a long while about whether or not he should fetch his wife for the conversation, but decided against it until he learned more about the subject at hand. Should there be unfavourable news, at least the Colonel would be able to deal with the matter privately. Colonel Crestcastle entered the drawing room to find the captain examining the items around the room. The Colonel gave everything a quick glance over to ensure that nothing was out of place.
"Mr Smith was it?" the Colonel said.
Jack turned around and smiled.
"Call me George," he said.
"Mr. Smith, may I ask what business you bring with you?"
"I have a message for the lady, Mrs. Crestcastle."
"Well, sir, she is my wife. Anything you have to say to her I would believe you are be able to say to me," the Colonel said.
"I would, mate – Sir - but my instructions were simple and intended only for the lady. Now, if she is unwilling to see me at this moment, will you kindly inform me when I should call again?" Jack said.
"Mr. Smith, may I tell Mrs. Crestcastle that you come with information regarding Ms. Amelia?"
Jack replied playfully, "She's your wife, mate; you may tell her whatever pleases you."
The Colonel was not amused.
"You are not the same Mr. Smith who attends to Ms. Boyd, are you?"
"No, I am the same Mr. George Fruitsmith who attends on Mr. Smith who happens to know a certain Ms. Barbossa," Jack said.
"Fruitsmith you say? It is an unusual name. I cannot say that I have ever heard its likeness. Tell me, Sir, how exactly does one smith fruit? Surely you come from quite the skilful family - none lacking in creativity no doubt."
"Quite skilful, Sir," Jack replied with ease. "Smithing fruit is not half the wonder as smithing black. It isn't even an object, it's a colour, yet there seems to be no shortage of blacksmiths now does there? Wonders of the modern world, eh?" Jack said everything without the slightest hesitation, which irritated the Colonel further.
"What news do you have of Ms. Crestcastle, and please be frank," the Colonel demanded.
"News of Mrs. Crestcastle's daughter is for Mrs. Crestcastle herself. As I have said, I can come again when she wishes to speak to me."
"I will not have my wife speak to you candidly. Your vulgar nature is not appropriate for the company you keep, Sir."
"Forgive me, I am a man of the sea, not of society," Jack said.
Colonel Crestcastle had his wife fetched and brought to the drawing room. The colonel would not leave and Jack agreed to allow him to stay so long as Mrs. Crestcastle was present to receive direct information. Jack was taken aback when he saw Mrs. Crestcastle enter the room. He had never met Barbossa's wife, he had only ever heard stories about her, and few of them were pleasant. He was unprepared to see a woman so young. Even though she may have been older than Jack, it was not by much. It became difficult for Jack to remember that he was in the presence of Amelia's mother and it even began to disturb him that he could easily recall being with a number of women who would be older than Mrs. Crestcastle.
"You send word of Amelia?" Mrs. Crestcastle asked the stranger.
"I do. She wished me to tell you that she is alive and well. I am more than happy to answer any questions that you may have regarding her and her wellbeing," Jack said. He then pulled out the letter from his jacket pocket. "She also pressed me to give you this, written by her own hand," he said handing her the letter.
Mrs. Crestcastle took hold of the paper and unfolded it. It was in her daughter's handwriting. She read it quickly and silently to herself. Her expression did not alter at all. She seemed wholly unaffected by the letter. Though Jack did not fully know the contents of the letter, he found it hard to believe that it was void of all sentiment.
"She is well, then?" Mrs Crestcastle said.
Jack was a little hesitant to reply since he was certain that he had already answered that question before it was even asked.
"She is," he finally said.
"And I suppose that she is quite happy with herself?" Mrs. Crestcastle said coldly.
"Beg your pardon?"
"Amelia, she's proud of herself is she? We received the letter of dismissal and then followed quite promptly a letter from her stating her intentions. Foolish child. I suppose that Mr. Smith has been rather gleeful lately? I never would have thought that he would have the audacity to ruin a young girl's future like that. Tell me, Sir, is there truth to this letter or is she too ashamed to say otherwise?"
"She is well," Jack repeated. "Perhaps you may not be proud of her but I can assure you that she has managed to maintain a decent and honourable lifestyle given her circumstances."
"Hasn't run off with a seafarer by now?" Mrs. Crestcastle asked.
"She is enjoying her independence," Jack replied.
"Her independence? God save the poor girl's soul. Has my life taught her nothing?"
"Is there anything else?" Jack asked ready to quit the estate.
"Has she any intention of returning?" she asked.
"I do not know how long she intends to be absent. She does think of you often and fondly, but she does not feel prepared to accept a married life as of yet."
"Mr. Smith, you may tell her that those bridges have long since burnt. I cannot even guarantee that our Gerald, God bless him, could think of taking on such a bundle of trouble for a wife. Everything I have done for her seems to have been for naught. Tell her to come to her senses before she becomes an old maid, or worse."
Jack bowed and replaced his hat on his head.
"I will pass on your love and best wishes to her," he said as he left the room.
A weight was lifted as Captain Jack Sparrow left the estate. He ran through the meeting in his mind and could not help but shake his head at it. As much as Jack would not have admitted it before, now after having met the woman, he could firmly say that Amelia was certainly her father's daughter. All Jack could wonder now was why Barbossa was so eager to bring Amelia back. Amelia was so much better off back on Ahoyhoy than here. If Jack could have it his way he would never bring her back. How considerate her mother was, seeing to it that her only daughter would be well married into a life of misery. Everything that Amelia had said no longer seemed like such an exaggeration. Had she chosen this life she would have handed over the reins forever. No, Jack would keep her at sea for as long as she wanted. He felt his finger, still running his fingertips over the groove that was still present in his skin - there she was, still with him.