Alternative Ending - Chapter Ten: Monkey's Work

Barbossa sat quietly and patiently in his small cell. Soon he heard the small jingle he had been anticipating. Jack the monkey scuttled across the floor holding a set of keys in his tiny hands and periodically gnawing on the ring as he brought it forward. Barbossa knelt down to let Jack climb up his arm and hand him the keys. Barbossa laughed and opened the cell.

"Thank you, Jack. And now, if ya don't mind, we be needin' the map next."

Jack let out a small squawk and scampered back down through the bars and disappeared. Barbossa had only now to gather his things. As he walked through the crew's quarters, each man he passed stopped and froze in place. It was as though they were looking at a ghost. Barbossa, pistol in hand, smiled at each of them menacingly.

Mr. Gibbs sauntered down the stairs, not thinking anything of the extreme silence below. When he saw Barbossa standing there freely, Gibbs cried out, "Great Mother's child! Don't just stand there, lads! Sound the alarm! Bind him back up!"

No man moved.

Barbossa laughed.

"Don't just stand there, lads," Barbossa called out with great amusement as he cocked his pistol, "Bind the man up!"

Meanwhile, above in the captain's cabin, the three slept soundly. The Captain and Amelia were in the bed, while Tristan lay rocking in a hammock. Jack the monkey crept in and leapt from surface to surface hunting for the map. The chart had a lot of weight to it, so it was awkward for the monkey to pick up. He was required to drag it along. He brought it to the edge of the table and pushed it over. It made a light thud as it hit the floor. Amelia's eyes opened. She could tell something wasn't right. She shook the captain who awoke unwillingly.

"What? What is it?" he said groggily. As he opened his eyes he saw that his table was void of nearly everything he had left on it. Loose papers were scattered on the floor. Even more noticeable was the map being nudged across the floor. "Ah! Bad monkey!" Jack cried, jumping out of bed.

Jack the monkey screeched and began to run for the door, dragging the map behind him. The door was shut, there was no where to go. The captain was already over him. The captain had a firm hold on him. Then he was bit.

"Bugger!" Jack said as he dropped the monkey.

The door opened. Jack looked up in disbelief. Jack the monkey ran through the opening onto Barbossa's foot, leaving the map there as he continued to run up to the safe shoulder.

"Why thank you, Jack," Barbossa said very pleased. He aimed his pistol.

Jack's eyes widened as he realized he had no way of avoiding the shot. No way but one. The shot fired. Jack slammed and held the door as the ball flew through, hitting and shattering the glass of an oil lamp on the table. Amelia screamed. Tristan buried himself in his hammock. Jack slid against the door.

"That can't be good," he said.

Amelia rushed to the captain and told her son to stay where he was.

"Are you alright?" she asked, checking Jack for any sign of being hit.

He placed his hand on top of hers to stop the search.

"I'm fine. Just stay in here a while longer," the captain said.

"Jack, what's happened?"

"Your father, that's what bloody well happened. Knew I should have shot him while I had the chance…again."

"What do we do now?"

"Like I said, just wait here a while. If he's got the map there's only one place he'll go."

Amelia helped the captain to his feet.

"Should I –" she began.

" – No! You're sitting this one out."

"Jack – "

"That's an order," Jack snapped.

Amelia stepped backwards slowly until she hit the bed. She sat on the edge, just watching the captain as he worked out his thoughts.

"We don't lose anything by letting them get ahead. It may even be to our advantage," Jack thought aloud.

"If they only have the chart, they still have to solve it," Tristan said. "We already scrambled the panels up again."

"Aye. How about it, urchin, you think we can do it still?"

Tristan nodded his head.

So they waited. When things became quieter out on deck, Jack crept out, pistol first. They had gone. Amelia followed behind her captain and Tristan behind his mother. A few men had remained behind. They began to shake when they saw Jack emerge unscathed. They knew Barbossa's orders, but it was so hard to decide whom to follow. Jack marched them all down to the brig where he saw Gibbs and Cotton behind the bars. It didn't take long before the switch was made, freeing those loyal to Jack and locking up those still undecided.

"Jack, thank the stars!" Gibbs said. "I thought Barbossa'd have ya in for."

"He does try. Lord knows he does try," Jack said. "Tristan, run up and get your things. We leave soon."

"Aye, Captain!" Gibbs replied earnestly.

"You'll stay here and keep watch," Jack ordered.

"Captain?"

"Amelia," Jack said to her, "you're in charge."

"Captain?" Gibbs questioned once more.

"No one comes out of the brig. Anything looks out of place, shoot it," Jack continued.

"Aye, Captain," she replied.

"There's a chance Barbossa and them may come back."

"I know. I'll deal with it if I have to," Amelia said coldly.

"The Spanish are probably not too far behind, either."

"I'll deal with it."

"I know you will." Jack let out a sigh. "Three days, love," he said to her steadily, "then you push out, no looking back."

"Jack…"

"The boy already knows to run back to the ship at the first sign of trouble. He'll be alright. I won't let nothing bad happen to him. I lost you both once already, I'll make certain that you're safe this time."

Amelia leaned her forehead against his chin. He kissed her head. She then looked up. "Come back to me, Jack," she whispered to him.

He traced his nose along her cheek until his lips lined up with hers. He then took her hand, felt for his ring on her finger, and brought it up to his mouth to kiss.

"Take care of my ship, Ms. Amelia," he said to her with a smile.

With that, he found Tristan. Everything was as ready as it possibly could be given the circumstances. Jack held out his compass and together he and his son followed its trail. It was easy enough to follow. Barbossa and his gang had already cut a path through the brush. The captain and his son were easily gaining on them. What Jack didn't expect was that they would catch up to them so soon. As he and Tristan walked along, they heard voices. Quietly, they crept into the brush, following the compass more so than the trail but still keeping a close eye on it. The brush seemed to be thinning out on the other side. Jack could only shake his head and laugh, wondering why they were bothering carving out a trail when the brush opened up so close by. The voices, however, were much louder here. Peaking through the trees, Jack and Tristan saw that the brush was in fact not thinning out, it was a second trail. This one was being followed by the Spanish privateers. This meant that each party was frighteningly close to one another. There were four sailors accompanying Captain Garcia, each of them monitoring a long line of boys who were all attached together by a rope that wrapped around their waist. It was a very long line. Tristan shuttered to think that he might have been apart of that line-up. Garcia and his men shouted in Spanish. They must have only recently stopped to check their own compass. An argument had broken out.

"What's all this about?" Jack whispered to the boy beside him.

"The degrees. They aren't following a proper map. Garcia doesn't trust the interpretation of the journal. The men are arguing between north-east and east north-east."

Jack sighed to himself, "Another bloody journal."

Tristan ignored the captain's dismissal and continued to eavesdrop.

"They've seen Barbossa," Tristan said.

"Have they now?"

"I think so. They're debating about just following the group they heard a few hours back. They know that they aren't alone."

Jack checked his compass. They could go a little while longer before intercepting either party dead on, but Jack didn't want to bump into any surprises along the way. If either of them changed course, Jack could find himself in a confrontation. He knew that his compass was the only tool worth trusting at this point, and if he had to choose which party to meet with, it certainly would not be Barbossa's. But it would also not be wise to catch the Spanish off guard. There were many more with Garcia than Jack had with him.

"Stay close, son," Jack whispered. "We'll try to get a little ahead of 'em."

Jack put his hand on his son's shoulder, leading him back through the brush.

"So what is it that we need to remember?" Jack asked.

"Two wells, a fountain, and a basin underneath. Over and under," Tristan recapped.

"Nothing to worry about 'til we get there, then," Jack said fairly satisfied with the answer.

Jack and Tristan stayed conspicuously in front of the Spanish. When their paths finally intertwined, Garcia called ahead to them.

"Ho there!"

Jack and Tristan stopped cautiously but turned with a friendly air.

"Senor," Jack greeted, removing his hat and giving a small bow. Tristan imitated the bow.

"Captain Sparrow," Garcia said with surprise, "I see you have changed your mind."

"It appears that way, now don't it?"

"Were those not your men that we saw? They are a great distance ahead of us," Garcia said.

"No longer my men, actually," Jack replied very matter-of-factly. "Feel free to shoot them upon first sight. I promise that I will hold no grudge. Who knows, I may even feel generous and offer a reward for the job."

Garcia laughed. "You are a funny man, Jack Sparrow."

Jack shrugged modestly.

"I tell you what, my friend, you help us find the fountain and I will help you kill them," Garcia offered.

"Now that does sound much better than your last offer."

Garcia laughed.

"Any other terms?" Jack asked.

Garcia looked at his men quite puzzled.

"In terms of the find. Splitting the profit," Jack explained. "I see that you have a few more pockets that require filling than the boy and I here."

"We split whatever we find. As captains we take thirty each, the men ten percent," Garcia said as though it was common sense.

Jack eyed the trail of boys attached to the rope.

"Workers," Garcia said, anticipating Captain Sparrow's question. "I feed them. That is their share."

Jack nodded accordingly. He was not going to express his own opinions while outnumbered, that hadn't gone over so well in his past experiences.

Jack explained to Captain Garcia the basic rift between himself and Barbossa. He told him about Barbossa holding mutiny again, taking the map and leaving himself and the boy behind - omitting all details concerning Amelia. When Garcia asked about the abandoned ship, Jack told him that he had freed the loyal crew members whom Barbossa had locked up in the brig. Once again, Jack did not feel the need to reveal every truth. He didn't say how few loyal crew members actually remained. Garcia was now under the impression that Jack hadn't anticipated the events which had come to pass and thus the unfortunate captain was left following the trail of his betrayers. There was no mention of Jack's compass or his second version of the map, or even of the solving of the chart. It was better this way. The other anxiety that vexed the captain was the chance that Tristan would be recognized. Tristan was very tense in the presence of the Spanish, and while some of the boys did recognize him, the captain and his men were indifferent to even acknowledging the kid.

As they continued to push through the untamed landscape, they came across a clearing. It was the site of a village, or what was once a village. It was obvious that Barbossa and his men had cut through here. Bodies of natives were scattered lifeless on the ground. Huts were torn open. What few goods these people had were stolen or destroyed, the remains discarded carelessly. Tristan shuttered at the sight and held onto Jack's sleeve as they walked delicately through the carnage.

"Well, we're definitely going the right way," Jack said, trying to lighten the uncomfortable silence that had overcome them.

They pressed onwards, following the visible trail that Barbossa and his men left behind them.

As they came to the outskirts of the village, they saw wide ravine, passable only by a rope bridge. It could only be crossed in single file. It was like walking a tight rope, requiring good balance to keep feet from slipping through the crisscrossing ropes that hung as the only supports. The bridge being as it was, took an inexperienced man a while to cross it, and this being the case, Jack and Garcia had caught up a great deal to Barbossa and his men who were still crossing. Jack wasted no time in taking Tristan by the arm and setting themselves up on the bridge.

Jack got on first, sliding his feet across the ropes below rather than lifting his feet to cause any sway. He griped the side ropes which acted as handrails and slid his hands along them too.

"Keep your eyes forward," Jack instructed his son, knowing that giving the advice "don't look down" never worked well.

Garcia gave instructions to his men in Spanish. He then got on closely behind Tristan. He held a loose end of rope from his press-ganged line, ensuring that the first boy in line followed. The boys were all nervous, some even cried as they were forced to step onto the bridge. Two men checked the boys as they stepped onto the bridge, the other two stood from a better vantage point to ensure that none of the boys tried anything funny. A dead weight would make the crossing more difficult but it was a better option than having a boy throw off more than one worker or even the captain.

"Yer too late, Jack!" Barbossa shouted safely from the solid ground. "This be the end of the line. Be sure to give Mr. Turner my regards," he laughed.

When Barbossa's last man stepped off the bridge, Barbossa took up his sword. Jack could see what Barbossa was intending.

"Tristan, we have to run, lad" Jack said urgently.

Tristan wasn't sure if his feet were capable of running on these ropes but he knew that his life depended upon it. Garcia shouted back at his men. Jack dashed forward, Tristan dashed behind him. Garcia ran pulling the rope relentlessly, forcing his boys to run forward or be dragged. The two men behind them shouted at the boys, and pushed them forward, but never stepped onto the bridge themselves. The other two men began to fire across at any of Barbossa's men they could reach. Given the distance of the ravine, the Spanish were hard pressed to hit their marks. Barbossa's sword went down once, and then twice. The rope bridge was swinging unsteadily, but Barbossa had severed the ropes from their wooden posts. Jack stood face to face with Barbossa. Tristan and Garcia looked back. Only a few of the boys were capable of reaching solid ground, the rest fell, hanging on only by the ropes around their waists. They all screamed and shouted. Jack's attention turned. Barbossa saw the vulnerability. Jack wouldn't fight him and he knew it. Barbossa laughed and told his men to press on. Jack didn't watch them leave. He rushed to help Garcia and Tristan pull more boys up the ravine. There were too many still dangling, pulling those on land downwards. Garcia took out his sword.

"What are you doing?" Jack shouted.

Garcia didn't reply and he didn't stop.

"Don't do it!" Jack shouted, but it was too late. Garcia took the closest boy he could reach and released him from the long line that threatened to drag him down. The screams from below echoed.

Jack and Tristan stood speechless.

Garcia cleared his throat and said, "Just workers." He then proceeded to shout orders back to his men on the other side.

Jack put his hand on Tristan's shoulder. Tristan was trembling.

"Come on, son," he said softly, turning the boy away from the sight of his fallen comrades.

Garcia organized what was left of his line of workers. He pulled them up to their feet, turning their heads if they tried to look back. He had no patience for their sobs.