Time and Time Again
folder
Pirates of the Caribbean (All) › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
17
Views:
4,202
Reviews:
57
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Pirates of the Caribbean (All) › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
17
Views:
4,202
Reviews:
57
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 11 - Greece'd Monkey
Time and Time Again, by Hellborne (the_ferret_mom@yahoo.com)
Pirates of the Caribbean – 13+
Copyright. Characters, not mine. See the Mouse. Story, mine, but I make no money. He does, but not on this.
Typing convention: / is used for thoughts. * - * - * is used for scene changes and passages of time.
Summary: It’s the year 2001. Will Turner, descendent of a particular blacksmith, has been left a journal and a scarf...leading him to a particular cave.
Beta: The great BetaGoddess Pendragginink. She’s fantastic! And way too modest for her own good!
NOTE: I live for reviews. No reviews, the muses go out gambling (we DO live in Las Vegas, after all) and I can’t get any writing done. Can’t figure out if anyone likes it if they don’t review. So REVIEW! PLEEEEEEZE???
* - * - * - * - * - * - * - *
Chapter 11 – Greece’d Monkey
The plane touched down in Athens and the two men strode off the plane and promptly rented a car. Will followed the instructions on the printout, parked at the stable as instructed, and Jack rented two horses, haggling expertly in Greek.
“Jack, you didn’t tell me you knew Greek.”
“Aye, I did. I distinctly remember telling you I speak seven languages.”
“No, you said you CURSED in seven languages.”
“Will, I don’t know about you, but I like to know when in a conversation it is ripe for cursin’, along with what the words themselves mean. I mean...if I were to tell you that ‘hijo de puta’ meant ‘give me a kiss’, I’d be lying, but you’d never know it if you didn’t know Spanish. Here you’d think you’re beggin’ a kiss from a pretty lady and you’d be callin’ her a son of a whore. Lad, I’m right ashamed o’ ye speakin’ that way to a lady!”
“But—“
“But nothin, whelp. If ye can’t understand a language, you’ve no leave to curse in it.” Jack mounted the horse easily as Will continued struggling to get his foot in the stirrup. Jack chuckled. “Oi, my lad, perhaps we should have gotten you a ladder to help you up.” He guided his horse around and one-arm lifted the larger man into the saddle with ease. “You mean to tell me you can’t ride a horse?”
“We should have rented the motorcycles.”
Jack turned his horse and started down the path to the north, followed closely by Will. “Will, those noisy monstrosities are bad for the animals according to what I’ve read on the Internet. Horses, on the other hand, add fertilizer to the land—“
“Jack, you are NOT turning into one of those ecology freaks!”
“What, PETA? Perish the thought, lad, unless P.E.T.A. stands for ‘People Eating Tasty Animals’. I distinctly remember tellin’ ye that calves’ brains were my favorite breakfast.”
“Oh good. So why the horses?”
“Let’s just say I felt homesick. When I was a small whelp, I lived on a farm about half a day’s ride from London.” As the horses passed into a quiet pastoral area, Jack seemed to inhale deeply. “Will, my boy, I wish I could smell it. There’s not a better smell in the world, lad, ‘ceptin’ the sea. But if I have to be on land, then it’s a farm I’ll live on, with fields, cows, pigs, and chickens."
Will took a whiff of the air. “I don’t get it. All I smell is dirt, dust, and the factory a couple of miles away.” He pointed.
Jack’s head swung around like a shot and bulls-eyed the factory, which was belching black smoke into the gray sky. “I thought those ‘clouds’ looked rather dirty. No, lad. I want a farm on an island off the coast of Scotland. I’ve been checking on them on the Internet. That would give me the best of both worlds; a farm and the sea.”
“So why’d you leave home?”
Jack bowed his head. “I was a foolish whelp, not happy with my lot in life. I hated farming and I hated bein’ poor. So I ran away from home when I was ten. Bein’ small for my age—“
“Jack, you’re STILL small for your age.”
“I’m tall enough.” Jack reigned in his horse and pointed to a farmhouse. “The Barbossa family lives in yon cottage.” They rode down the small hill and tied their horses to the post outside. Jack knocked on the cottage door, and after a few words in Greek with the lady who answered the door, they were let in.
Not understanding one word of the conversation, Will sat sipping ouzo and smiled a lot while Jack spoke at some length to Mrs. Barbossa.
“Will, she says the monkey has been in their family since 1754. As they’ve kept ‘im in a cage and never brought him out at night, she doesn’t know anything about the little blighter turning into a monster in the moonlight. I’ve told her that the monkey is mine, but I’ll give them a two thousand dollar finder’s fee. She doesn’t believe me that he’s mine, but she’s willin’ to let me prove it to her tonight. Let’s go see the little bastard.”
The woman led the way into a converted wine cellar that had been made into a game room and turned on the light. Upon first sight of Jack, the monkey started screeching, jumping, and pointing at him in recognition. Jack nodded, a sneer creeping onto his face. “That’s him.” He repeated it in Greek, smiling, and they all moved out of the room, leaving the monkey to leap about in its cage.
Jack spoke to the woman for a bit longer and signaled Will they were leaving. “She says there’s a town of sorts just north of here.” When they got outside, Jack mounted his horse and watched the show of Will mounting his. “Perhaps a footstool? Maybe a wooden crate? Would you like me to fetch you a box, or shall I rent you a burro?”
Will finally made it into the saddle and stuck his tongue out at the pirate. “I’m just not as limber as you are.”
“Ye’d have to be a stick not to be able to lift your leg as high as a stirrup, mate. Then again, that Turner blood of yours...”
“JACK!”
Jack suffered several fits of giggles as they headed north to see what entertainment the small town had to offer until that evening.
* - * - *
Mrs. Barbossa watched as Will brought the cage with the monkey still in it out to the front yard. As the moonlight touched the monkey, he became a skeleton, scaring the poor woman. She screamed something that Jack recognized as protection charm against the “evil eye”, recovered her composure and said something in a burst of Greek. Jack’s eyes narrowed as he responded and stepped into the moonlight himself. The woman screamed and crossed her fingers, spitting on the ground in protection.
Jack stepped out of the moonlight. “Will, this woman has GOT to be a relative of Hector’s. She bargains the same way he did.” He spoke to Mrs. Barbossa, and pulled out his wallet. He sighed, making a “show” of reluctance at the agreed upon price, placing several traveler’s checks into her outstretched hand and backed away, tipping his hat to her. When he reached the horses, Will’s mount was acting skittish due to the skeletal monkey in the cage on its back, and Jack’s horse didn’t want to let Jack’s bony self anywhere near it. Jack shook his head and took the reigns of both horses, leading them toward some ruins he’d seen on the way into town, as he didn’t want to walk the entire way.
* - * - *
Jack and the monkey rode together as cargo on the way back to the states. When Will went to claim the coffin they were in, he was asked who was in it. “Oh...that’s my Uncle Jack.” He was almost in tears...from holding back laughter; what the customs agent didn’t know, Will wasn’t going to volunteer; he did hope that “dear old Uncle Jack” wouldn’t open the casket and sit up like he had threatened to do when Will suggested going home in the coffin to keep the damned monkey quiet. He handed over the death certificate that he’d paid good money for that proclaimed the “corpse” healthy, though dead.
Will signed for the coffin and had the hearse he’d ordered bring it to the Angel of Desire. Once under way, Jack opened the casket and climbed out, holding the monkey by the scruff of the neck. “Will, I’m lookin’ forward to breakin’ the curse...I’m slittin’ this bloody monkey ear to ear!”
“Jack, you will do no such thing!”
“Then what do ye plan on doin’ with ‘im? He’ll die on the island, and ‘e can’t go anywhere else because of customs.”
Will pondered the problem for a bit. “We’ll take the chest with us and break the curse when we get home.”
“And then what? You’re not a Barbossa, and the monkey won’t obey anyone else. Tis better to put the blighter out of ‘is misery.” /And mine!/
“I’ll think of something.”
“All right, you do that. In the meantime, how do we smuggle the chest of gold back to your house, eh?”
“Jack, you want me to come up with ALL the answers? YOU work on this one.”
“But Will, I already gave ye the answer. ‘s not my fault ye don’t like it.”
* - * - *
As Will slept, he felt something cool and soft crawl into bed with him. He automatically stretched an arm over whatever it was and found a snake gently wrapping around his arm. Startled, he woke up and stared at the monkey who had just crawled in with him and wrapped his tail around his arm. The monkey raised its head and looked curiously at Will. “So...what’s your name, little guy?”
“Barbossa called him ‘Jack’ to mock me.”
Jack the monkey dove under the covers and clung to Will. “Jack, I think he likes me.”
“Well, he HATES me, though I never did anything t’ deserve it.”
“Jack, I think I have an idea on how to get him to L.A.; We’ll take the canal.”
“Canal?”
“In Panama. Look it up on the net.”
“Aye, I’ll do that.” Jack climbed the ladder, mumbling in several languages. Will thought he caught the word “monkey” several times.
* - * - *
Standing on the golden hill next to the chest, Jack held the flint dagger aloft as Will held the monkey for him.
“Begun by blood; by blood undone.” Jack cut the monkey’s paw and rubbed the medallion in the wound, then dropped it in the chest.
* - * - *
TBC
A/N: So...is the curse broken? If not, now what? If so, is Jack going to be happy in the 21st century? Is Will going to be happy with Jack? And what of the monkey? Hit that REVIEW button and tell me what you think!
Pirates of the Caribbean – 13+
Copyright. Characters, not mine. See the Mouse. Story, mine, but I make no money. He does, but not on this.
Typing convention: / is used for thoughts. * - * - * is used for scene changes and passages of time.
Summary: It’s the year 2001. Will Turner, descendent of a particular blacksmith, has been left a journal and a scarf...leading him to a particular cave.
Beta: The great BetaGoddess Pendragginink. She’s fantastic! And way too modest for her own good!
NOTE: I live for reviews. No reviews, the muses go out gambling (we DO live in Las Vegas, after all) and I can’t get any writing done. Can’t figure out if anyone likes it if they don’t review. So REVIEW! PLEEEEEEZE???
* - * - * - * - * - * - * - *
Chapter 11 – Greece’d Monkey
The plane touched down in Athens and the two men strode off the plane and promptly rented a car. Will followed the instructions on the printout, parked at the stable as instructed, and Jack rented two horses, haggling expertly in Greek.
“Jack, you didn’t tell me you knew Greek.”
“Aye, I did. I distinctly remember telling you I speak seven languages.”
“No, you said you CURSED in seven languages.”
“Will, I don’t know about you, but I like to know when in a conversation it is ripe for cursin’, along with what the words themselves mean. I mean...if I were to tell you that ‘hijo de puta’ meant ‘give me a kiss’, I’d be lying, but you’d never know it if you didn’t know Spanish. Here you’d think you’re beggin’ a kiss from a pretty lady and you’d be callin’ her a son of a whore. Lad, I’m right ashamed o’ ye speakin’ that way to a lady!”
“But—“
“But nothin, whelp. If ye can’t understand a language, you’ve no leave to curse in it.” Jack mounted the horse easily as Will continued struggling to get his foot in the stirrup. Jack chuckled. “Oi, my lad, perhaps we should have gotten you a ladder to help you up.” He guided his horse around and one-arm lifted the larger man into the saddle with ease. “You mean to tell me you can’t ride a horse?”
“We should have rented the motorcycles.”
Jack turned his horse and started down the path to the north, followed closely by Will. “Will, those noisy monstrosities are bad for the animals according to what I’ve read on the Internet. Horses, on the other hand, add fertilizer to the land—“
“Jack, you are NOT turning into one of those ecology freaks!”
“What, PETA? Perish the thought, lad, unless P.E.T.A. stands for ‘People Eating Tasty Animals’. I distinctly remember tellin’ ye that calves’ brains were my favorite breakfast.”
“Oh good. So why the horses?”
“Let’s just say I felt homesick. When I was a small whelp, I lived on a farm about half a day’s ride from London.” As the horses passed into a quiet pastoral area, Jack seemed to inhale deeply. “Will, my boy, I wish I could smell it. There’s not a better smell in the world, lad, ‘ceptin’ the sea. But if I have to be on land, then it’s a farm I’ll live on, with fields, cows, pigs, and chickens."
Will took a whiff of the air. “I don’t get it. All I smell is dirt, dust, and the factory a couple of miles away.” He pointed.
Jack’s head swung around like a shot and bulls-eyed the factory, which was belching black smoke into the gray sky. “I thought those ‘clouds’ looked rather dirty. No, lad. I want a farm on an island off the coast of Scotland. I’ve been checking on them on the Internet. That would give me the best of both worlds; a farm and the sea.”
“So why’d you leave home?”
Jack bowed his head. “I was a foolish whelp, not happy with my lot in life. I hated farming and I hated bein’ poor. So I ran away from home when I was ten. Bein’ small for my age—“
“Jack, you’re STILL small for your age.”
“I’m tall enough.” Jack reigned in his horse and pointed to a farmhouse. “The Barbossa family lives in yon cottage.” They rode down the small hill and tied their horses to the post outside. Jack knocked on the cottage door, and after a few words in Greek with the lady who answered the door, they were let in.
Not understanding one word of the conversation, Will sat sipping ouzo and smiled a lot while Jack spoke at some length to Mrs. Barbossa.
“Will, she says the monkey has been in their family since 1754. As they’ve kept ‘im in a cage and never brought him out at night, she doesn’t know anything about the little blighter turning into a monster in the moonlight. I’ve told her that the monkey is mine, but I’ll give them a two thousand dollar finder’s fee. She doesn’t believe me that he’s mine, but she’s willin’ to let me prove it to her tonight. Let’s go see the little bastard.”
The woman led the way into a converted wine cellar that had been made into a game room and turned on the light. Upon first sight of Jack, the monkey started screeching, jumping, and pointing at him in recognition. Jack nodded, a sneer creeping onto his face. “That’s him.” He repeated it in Greek, smiling, and they all moved out of the room, leaving the monkey to leap about in its cage.
Jack spoke to the woman for a bit longer and signaled Will they were leaving. “She says there’s a town of sorts just north of here.” When they got outside, Jack mounted his horse and watched the show of Will mounting his. “Perhaps a footstool? Maybe a wooden crate? Would you like me to fetch you a box, or shall I rent you a burro?”
Will finally made it into the saddle and stuck his tongue out at the pirate. “I’m just not as limber as you are.”
“Ye’d have to be a stick not to be able to lift your leg as high as a stirrup, mate. Then again, that Turner blood of yours...”
“JACK!”
Jack suffered several fits of giggles as they headed north to see what entertainment the small town had to offer until that evening.
* - * - *
Mrs. Barbossa watched as Will brought the cage with the monkey still in it out to the front yard. As the moonlight touched the monkey, he became a skeleton, scaring the poor woman. She screamed something that Jack recognized as protection charm against the “evil eye”, recovered her composure and said something in a burst of Greek. Jack’s eyes narrowed as he responded and stepped into the moonlight himself. The woman screamed and crossed her fingers, spitting on the ground in protection.
Jack stepped out of the moonlight. “Will, this woman has GOT to be a relative of Hector’s. She bargains the same way he did.” He spoke to Mrs. Barbossa, and pulled out his wallet. He sighed, making a “show” of reluctance at the agreed upon price, placing several traveler’s checks into her outstretched hand and backed away, tipping his hat to her. When he reached the horses, Will’s mount was acting skittish due to the skeletal monkey in the cage on its back, and Jack’s horse didn’t want to let Jack’s bony self anywhere near it. Jack shook his head and took the reigns of both horses, leading them toward some ruins he’d seen on the way into town, as he didn’t want to walk the entire way.
* - * - *
Jack and the monkey rode together as cargo on the way back to the states. When Will went to claim the coffin they were in, he was asked who was in it. “Oh...that’s my Uncle Jack.” He was almost in tears...from holding back laughter; what the customs agent didn’t know, Will wasn’t going to volunteer; he did hope that “dear old Uncle Jack” wouldn’t open the casket and sit up like he had threatened to do when Will suggested going home in the coffin to keep the damned monkey quiet. He handed over the death certificate that he’d paid good money for that proclaimed the “corpse” healthy, though dead.
Will signed for the coffin and had the hearse he’d ordered bring it to the Angel of Desire. Once under way, Jack opened the casket and climbed out, holding the monkey by the scruff of the neck. “Will, I’m lookin’ forward to breakin’ the curse...I’m slittin’ this bloody monkey ear to ear!”
“Jack, you will do no such thing!”
“Then what do ye plan on doin’ with ‘im? He’ll die on the island, and ‘e can’t go anywhere else because of customs.”
Will pondered the problem for a bit. “We’ll take the chest with us and break the curse when we get home.”
“And then what? You’re not a Barbossa, and the monkey won’t obey anyone else. Tis better to put the blighter out of ‘is misery.” /And mine!/
“I’ll think of something.”
“All right, you do that. In the meantime, how do we smuggle the chest of gold back to your house, eh?”
“Jack, you want me to come up with ALL the answers? YOU work on this one.”
“But Will, I already gave ye the answer. ‘s not my fault ye don’t like it.”
* - * - *
As Will slept, he felt something cool and soft crawl into bed with him. He automatically stretched an arm over whatever it was and found a snake gently wrapping around his arm. Startled, he woke up and stared at the monkey who had just crawled in with him and wrapped his tail around his arm. The monkey raised its head and looked curiously at Will. “So...what’s your name, little guy?”
“Barbossa called him ‘Jack’ to mock me.”
Jack the monkey dove under the covers and clung to Will. “Jack, I think he likes me.”
“Well, he HATES me, though I never did anything t’ deserve it.”
“Jack, I think I have an idea on how to get him to L.A.; We’ll take the canal.”
“Canal?”
“In Panama. Look it up on the net.”
“Aye, I’ll do that.” Jack climbed the ladder, mumbling in several languages. Will thought he caught the word “monkey” several times.
* - * - *
Standing on the golden hill next to the chest, Jack held the flint dagger aloft as Will held the monkey for him.
“Begun by blood; by blood undone.” Jack cut the monkey’s paw and rubbed the medallion in the wound, then dropped it in the chest.
* - * - *
TBC
A/N: So...is the curse broken? If not, now what? If so, is Jack going to be happy in the 21st century? Is Will going to be happy with Jack? And what of the monkey? Hit that REVIEW button and tell me what you think!