Pirate Blood Never Runs Shallow
So I've always loved Pirates of the Caribbean, and the new movie coming out last month brought that love up from the depths, much like Davy raising the Pearl. So I decided to write a fan fiction about these excellent movies, with the time set after On Stranger Tides. So basically when Jack Sparrow (er, sorry, CAPTAIN) and Gibbs make it to Tortuga and look to find a crew, but first to get The Black Pearl out of the bottle Blackbeard has manuevered it into.
Shouldn't you be in jail?
"Abraham Finkle. But you can call me Finkle. I've sailed the seas since I was a toddler. I was with me father's crew until last year, when we sailed through a windstorm before it threw up into a reef and we were flooded. I only managed out because I knew where to go and how to help." He took a swig of rum, " I decided I was to find a new crew after dad drowned. I'd be much obliged to help run your ship if you'll have me."
Gibbs nodded and directed him to a sheet of dirty paper, telling him where to sign, then interviewed the next in line.
My attention, however, wavered to the man in the back rooms, who seemed to be lost in thought, staring up at something on the wall I couldn't see. Gingerly, silent as gust of breeze, I made my way over to get a closer look. A simple, cracked bottle was propped sideways on the wall, a black toy ship resting in the middle. With a little time watching back and forth between his concerned and deep concentrationed face to the decoration to the way he absentmindedly kept a heavily ringed finger lightly on the inside of his jacket, I knew what must be going on.
"Harder than it looks isn't it?" I murmured low enough for only him to hear, as now I was by his shoulder.
Of course, he jumped a bit and cleared his throat, looked around to see who'd spoken and pulled his brow in a furrow when he saw it had been me. "I don't know what you mean."
"Oh, I think you do."
"Do not," He turned back to keep his eyes down, coat drawn tightly together as if it would help his case, but instead helping mine. It looked as if he was unsure if I'd reach for that bottle of his and snatch it right out of his pockets.
"You don't know how to get it out, do you?"
After a moment he sighed, resigned. "No." He murmured grumpily, like a six year old refusing to eat without play. Then- "Do you?"
"I know who does know how to get it out. Or at least they do NOW." I added thoughtfully.
"Yes, Jack Sparrow. That's what I said."
"How do you know who I am?" He asked, reaching for the red stained bottle in front of him, taking a swig of rum.
"Who doesn't know Captain Jack?" I asked, pulling up a chair and sitting across from him. My words brought a smirk to his grimy face as he shifted in his own seat, jewelry and coins rustling like bells.
"How come you're here?" He asked me, eyeing me up and down. I knew what he must see, my neat brown dress, long red curls neatly put in place, youthful cheeks and baby fat. He must sense how truly young I am, of only fourteen years of life. But I know he also sees the dark, aged look in my dark green eyes, must sense how truly powerful I seem to be.
"Because in turn for me leading you where the one to help you reclaim your precious ship," I leaned forward, "You're going to help me find my parents."
"Your parents left you here...?" Jack asked, eyebrow raised. "I mean it's rum is fully stocked and exquisite, but to live here?"
"I live here with my siblings. But I want my parents and they're too much of cowards to help me find them," I dropped my voice and looked determindly into the pirate captain's eyes. "They're afraid they are pirates and refuse to associate with them. Yes, we live here," I answered his question without hearing it, "But far off from this port. We live in a civilized village that feels bad for the drunks who make their way to Tortuga, but still won't have much to do with them."
Jack nodded, his eyes squinted knowingly, glancing again at the bottle on the wall. No doubt the question in his eyes was ''is it worth it to tag her along?"
Abruptly, he was out of his seat and making his way to Gibbs, who now had a full list of names.
"Mr. Gibbs. I've seemed to picked up my own recruit," Jack, oblivious to my following, threw his head where I'd been sitting before and go a puzzled look from Gibbs. He glanced around, confused, even turning his body around to look behind him. I smirked and stood just behind Gibbs' shoulder, so when Jack turned back around and saw me he let out a surprised shriek. I giggled and Gibbs jumped and turned to see me too. He looked me up and down just like Jack, apprehension starting in his face. "I dunno, Jack." Then to me, "Shouldn't you be in school, sweetie?"
I narrowed my eyes, "If it's all the same to you, Mr. Gibbs, shouldn't you be in jail?"
Jack smirked again, but Gibbs looked like he was gonna say something, thought better of it, and shrugged with his eyebrows raised in a clear gesture: You're probably right.