Chapter 11

I lean over the side of the boat and watch as my lunch float away.

"That is repulsive." Thomas says, teasingly.

"Oh, be quiet." I say, unable to think of a good retort. "It's all your fault I'm sick. You had to drag me into this."

Thomas laughs, "I think it's the sickness talking."

I just groan and lie back down on a spread out blanket.

"Come on, Anna." Thomas says, "You agreed that you would at least try to learn about sailing."

"Can't you see that I am in pain here?" I ask. "Even if I did try, I would be of no use to you. I'd be running to the side of the boat every minute, emptying my…already empty stomach."

" Fine, but when we leave Tortuga, you will be helping me."

"Fine, fine, fine. Whatever. Just leave me in peace to watch my insides bob away into the ocean, only to be found by some poor unfortunate soul, probably living in France. At least he can use them to feed his poor starving family."

Thomas looks at me, playfully disgusted. "Why did you have to say that? I don't think I'll eat for days, now."

I just give him a half-hearted smile, as I close my eyes, praying for the end of the ceaseless rocking.

"Anna, we're there."

I slowly open my eyes, expecting the sun to be blaring down on me. Instead, I am met with the full moon, large and glowing in the sky.

"What time is it?" I ask groggily as I sit up.

"Late." Thomas replies

I look over to where Jack is still sleeping and then quickly back at Thomas, "Hey! Why did you let him sleep longer?"

"Because he's old and useless. You on the other hand, are still useless but you're young, you can still be taught."

"Thanks?" I say uncertainly.

"Come and get up. We're about to dock.

I look out over the side of the boat and in the distance, I can see a dozen flickering lights and even from this distance, yelling, singing, and howling can be heard.

Is that yodeling?

I get to my feet, steadying myself as the boat rocks slightly.

I grin, "I don't feel sick anymore!" I say, "I must have already fed everything to the fishes. They probably ate very well."

Thomas grimaces, "Again, gross."

I brush him off, "What would you like me to do?"

"Oh, now she wants to help!" He teases with a smile

"Of course I want to help. I just couldn't earlier because I was feeling like I had swallowed a basket full of slimy seaweed."

"Here," Thomas says, tossing me a rope. "Fold all the blankets and furs and tie them all together with this."

I quickly complete the task and look back a Thomas proudly.

"What now?" I ask.

Thomas continues bossing me around till we are close enough to Tortuga to see individual people. He tells me to put on my cape and to keep my face hidden as much as possible.

"For safety." He explains.

"Against what?" I ask

"Everything." He says quietly, and in a "we are done with this conversation" tone.

I take a step back, surprised at his attitude, but then quickly remember: We are about to enter Tortuga, infamous pirate port of the New World. Most people tremble at the thought of this place. I am surprised I am not shaking in my boots. I guess that I am "immune" to the fear because I am used to being around Jack so I sort of assume that all pirates are like him.

I must change my mindset if I am to survive even an hour in Tortuga.

"Wake up Jack." Thomas tells me, "We'll be docked in a matter of minutes."

I shake Jack awake silently and for once he isn't angry or shouting. He just sits up quietly and makes sure he is ready.

"Anna, one more thing." Thomas says, "Do not speak until I say so. Your manner of speaking will definitely clue everyone into your background and that is not something we need. Be silent; be quick; be aware."

"You sound like Ms. Avilly." I mumble under my breath, remembering my etiquette teacher.

Thomas apparently doesn't hear me and we all sit silently, until the boat reaches the dock.

Thomas quickly ties up the boat and grabs Jack, once again in bridal style.

I pass Jack the sac of food and place one of the blankets that were still lying around over top of him, just as we had planned. Now it looked as if Thomas was carrying a large sack of potatoes.

He motions for me to follow and I grab the pack of blankets, the sac of food, my bag, and a small satchel.

My eyes to my feet, I manage to keep up to Thomas as we quickly zig-zag our way through the town.

We stop at an old building, resembling all the other ones that we have passed. Thomas fumbles around in his pocket for a key and I take this opportunity to look around.

Everything is colorless. The buildings, the roads, even the plants, which are miraculously still alive, are in shades of grays. Even the few people wandering the streets are clothed with dark, depressing colors. I can still hear shouts and laughter but they seem to be coming from the other side of town, or at least a few streets down.

"There we are." Thomas says finally unlocking the door.

He, still carrying Jack, rams into the door, which slowly groans open.

The room we enter is completely dark and I cough as our presence causes a cloud of dust to fly up.

Thomas puts Jack down and starts walking around the room, lighting at lamps and dusting everything with a rag.

"You've been here before, haven't you?" I ask him.

"Yes." He says, "This is where Jack, Charlie and I stayed all those years ago. I don't think anyone's been here since then."

"What about you? You've traded here before. Wouldn't you have stayed here while in port?" I ask.

"No, I stayed aboard the ship."

"Speaking of the ship," I start, "Why didn't we use it to travel here instead of fixing up the small one?"

"I didn't do so well on my last trip and I had to sell it to pay off my crew."

I don't respond but take a seat on the pack of blankets.

I look over to Jack who hasn't said a word since we docked. He is sitting silently in the corner, taking in his surroundings as if in awe. This place must bring back memories.

"Hey, Jack. Are you all right?" I ask.

He snaps out of it, and looks at me somewhat surprised by the question. "I'm fine."He says in barely a whisper.

Thomas gets to work building up a fire to the left and the room starts looking less cold.

There are around half a dozen lighted candles breaking the darkness and the house is now completely visible.

It is a one room house with an old soft sitting chair for three in front of the fire and a table behind it. Surrounding the three available sides of the table are three old, rickety wooden chairs.

One the far left of the room is one wobbly thin bed frame made of wood. On it, a thin, straw mattress filled with holes is laying.

Beside the bed, is a small piece a furniture, maybe a dresser, maybe a chest.

Thomas was still busy trying to get the fire started and Jack was nodding off to sleep.

I grabbed a blanket and spread it over the bed and then tried to lift Jack up in order to put him on it.

He was surprisingly light, due to the fact that all the muscles in his legs had wasted away years ago, but still heavy enough that I grunt and almost fall.

I softly place him in the bed and pull another blanket up to his chin.

Within seconds, he is asleep and I continue looking at him, confused. What was going on with him?

Momentarily, shrugging it off as tiredness, I look back to the other side of the room where Thomas has finally succeeded at starting the fire.

I grab another warm blanket from the corner before joining him on the old couch, which is so soft, that the whole seat caves in when I sit.

I yelp from surprise and Thomas chuckles while I squirm around getting comfortable, eventually going on my knees, using my legs as a layer between me and the couch.

We don't say anything for a while but just stare into the leaping flames, curving around the wood, and flying up into the brick chimney, as if dancing to the music of the crackles and pops.

"This place must be hard for you to come back to." I say, breaking the silence.

"Actually, it isn't as hard as I thought it would be." Thomas replies. "I mean, I always thought that I would break down and cry because of all the memories of Charlie flying around in this house. I think I am over grieving though."

I turn to look at him, perplexed, "Over grieving?" I ask, "It has been around a decade, maybe more, since my mother died and I don't think that my father is even close to be done grieving. Sometimes it feels as if he has just begun."

"Charlie was different. Our relationship wasn't based on feelings and emotions. It was more centered on our needs and necessities. Even before we were shipwrecked, he was more interested in playing pranks and getting in trouble than he was interested in spending time with me.

"He wasn't much of a role model and I have always resented him for dragging me into a life of piracy even though it wasn't really his fault. He wasn't particularly nice and he spent most of his time stealing and such. I hardly ever saw him. He was protecting but not chummy. He sacrificed a lot and expected the same. We weren't emotionally close."

I don't know how to respond to that so I decide to ask another question. "If you've never really had a good role model and emotionally tied person in your life, how did you end up so…so… nice?"

Thomas laughs but then quiets down when we hear Jack moving around on the bed.

"I have no idea." He says, still smiling, "I guess by being surrounded by such hard, tough people, it involuntarily motivated me to be different."

I just nod, yawning.

A few minutes later, Thomas is fast asleep on the couch.

I stand up ready for sleep.

I go back to the other side of the room which is now, thankfully, warm enough to be in without my teeth chattering.

I stand next to the bed and look down at Jack.

He isn't looking very good.

I decide to touch his forehead just like I have seen some doctor's do back in Port Royal.

I hesitate only a few inches above his skin. I can feel heat rising from his forehead, and I am afraid of what I will feel if I do touch him.

I slowly place my hand on his skin and retract it just as fast. He is as hot as an oven.

I am not a doctor or a medicine woman, but this does not look good… at all.