Apprentice To The Sorcerer

Building commenced faster than I ever thought it could. These pirates were motivated men, building for themselves and for a dream. I joined the crew that toiled on the boardwalk for the dock, knowing the faster we had a safe landing area the better. Gibbs and Jack worked together on blueprints for the most needed buildings first.

It comforted me to see Jack whenever I got tired of hammering. I would look up from my work and cast my bleary eyes around until I found him. Usually he and the quartermaster didn’t stray too far from their set-up table, but sometimes I could spy them inspecting various building materials.

Peter and his crew sailed for supplies, returning with another ship in tow. Both ships were filled to the capacity with things we needed, including skilled laborers. They were cimaroons, ex-slaves and pirates, rum runners and criminals. Most passed the test of trustworthiness inside a month. Those that failed began to vanish.

With unease I observed Peter’s growing agitation with Jack. There could be no other person responsible for the disappearance of nearly twenty people except Jack. Most of us labored on, unaware of the tension that festered on the island, but I noticed, and so did Pintel.

“Blood might be a friend of yers,” he said, handing me a bucket of nails, “but he’s startin’ to make me twitchy.” He passed me a hammer and the flask. “Maybe you should talk to ‘im.”

“Yeah,” I murmured, looking over at Peter. He currently paced back and forth in front of a few men who built a harbormaster’s station. “Peter’s got a problem with killing, I guess you got that.”

“Funny aversion for a pirate,” Pintel observed. “But ‘e didn’t turn pirate for riches, did ‘e? ‘E turned pirate for revenge. Once he got vind’cated, he was done.”

“You see a lot, don’t you?” I smirked at him, passed back the bigger hammer he needed for the support pins on the main posts. “So what do you think’s going to happen?”

“He’ll confront the captain, ‘ventually,” Pintel said quietly. “It won’t be pretty. If they fight I don’t know who would win. Blood’s got the strength and reach to crush Captain Jack like an egg if they git ta wrestlin, but Captain Jack’ll put a hole in him if blades are involved.”

I considered that. Jack might not have the strength to best Peter, but I doubted Peter could hold onto him long enough to crush him. Jack had grace and agility Peter did not have; he could slither out of someone’s grip with ease. I’d seen that for myself quite often. “Jack hits harder than a man twice his size, too,” I commented.

“Noticed that, did you?” Pintel laughed. “Maybe when you were cleanin out the hole my tooth left when he launched it from me face?”

I grinned at the wooden planks in front of me. “Come on, Telly,” I said teasingly. “That old thing must have been ready to come out anyway.”

“Not fer another year maybe,” Pintel replied. Again he passed me the flask. I traded him for the saw. He watched me cut a board to length and place it carefully between two boards of awkward width. “Y’know you ain’t gotta do this sort of stuff anymore, doncha?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” I knocked the board down flush and began nailing it in. “And if you say it’s because of my relationship with Jack, I’ll paste you one, I mean it. We aren’t on board ship and I won’t get flogged for it.”

“Oh hell,” Pintel swore. “I wasn’t gonna say nothin’ like that. I meant because yer female. “Now that everyone knows, you ain’t gotta tow the line so rough. None of us would complain if you took work a bit more suited to yer muscles.”

I looked at him. “Two months ago I’d have risked the flogging to hit you for that,” I said.

“I’m bein’ serious.” Pintel put his tools down to spread his hands wide in a placating gesture, palms out. “Yer a girl, Lei, ‘spite what you might think. Yer a rough girl and can work right alongside us all you want to. None will say boo about it, believe me. But that don’t mean you gotta. You get me?” He looked up briefly. “What if you hurt yourself down there, you know, make it so ya can’t have no young’uns?”

Truly, I hadn’t even considered that. I glanced down at my belly automatically, and then swore at myself for being so transparent. Throwing Pintel an evil look, I drank from his ration and pushed the flask back at him. “That could happen anyway,” I protested. “What about you? You could do the same thing, really.”

“No one would want to have my babies,” Pintel grumbled, looking sad for a moment. He picked up his tools. “’Less I miss my guess, you can’t say the same.”

I barked a laugh. “Who’s carrying the notion they want babies with me? What sick man in our group thinks I’d make a good mother? For that matter, what man is just burning up with the desire to quit pirating and start a family?” I pounded the next board in vigorously, angry with myself for getting roped into this conversation. “We’re pirates, Telly. None of us are exactly family-oriented.”

Except me. I did want a family someday. I dreamed of it. But I couldn’t share that dream.

“But this is what we’re workin’ for,” Pintel argued. “This here island means a lot o us can settle down if we want to.” He placed a board flush to mine and pounded it in, still looking at me. “I want a family. I want to get my long lost Esmerelda and bring her here.”

“Good,” I said. “I’m happy for you Telly, truly I am. I don’t see what that has to do with me though.”

“Ah, you ain’t been at sea long enough ta know what a dream it becomes to have a home,” Pintel grunted. “I’ve been a-sea thirty plus years with no home but a ship. I’m tired of bunking with my mates. I want to go to sleep with a loving woman every night and I ain’t ashamed of it.” He sat back on his haunches, pinning me with his eyes. “And I ain’t the only swab what wants this.” He turned his eyes to look past me toward Jack. When he looked back at me he didn’t have to say anything for me to get his meaning.

“Telly, you don’t know that about him,” I argued softly. “He doesn’t speak his mind on such things, after all.”

“A man don’t have to speak when his eyes do the talkin,” Pintel said. “Captain Jack’s eyes, they talk a lot, but they say more since you came aboard, I guarantee it. Even when you were hidin’ as a boy, Captain Jack’s eyes spoke.” “Lot of us thought he might be goin’ queer. Not that it made a fuck to us, but there you are.” Pintel gave a tragic sigh as I glared at him. “Just think about what I said, will ya? Ya don’ haveta do nothin’ but think.”

“What’s in this for you?” I asked quietly. “Why are you so interested in whether or not I hook up and have babies with Captain Jack Sparrow?”

“Cause I knows what people want and I meddle that way,” Pintel replied. “Are ye gonna drink outta me flask or sit there with it in yer hands?”

No sooner had I chugged from his flask I heard Jack call me. He addressed me as Lei, which meant business, not pleasure. I tossed Pintel his can and dropped my tools. “Get someone to replace me if you can,” I said. “We really need to get this done.”

“I’ll get Faraday,” Pintel said. “He’s straight with his hammerin and he’ll talk to me about babies and the like.” His sounded sulky.

I patted his bald head as I walked by him.

“Ah, Lei,” Jack said, barely looking up from his blueprint. His left hand quested for a rolled up paper, snatched it, and handed it to me. “Take this to Hector, will you?” He drew his carpenter’s pencil down the side of his print with a straight edge, making a little ‘x’ at the bottom and top. “When you return I want you to take Scorby out and go hunting.” He stopped drawing to curse. “Sodding pencil,” he said angrily. “Too soft.”

Jack had little playful humor these days. I found I missed his little acts of buffoonery. He had his act down perfect, after all, and I did appreciate thorough acting. Besides, Playful Jack and Happy Jack usually came together. I did so want him happy. Feeling melancholy, I tucked the roll of paper under my arm and retrieved my pencil from the brim of my hat. “Use mine, sir,” I said, offering it to him.

“Thank you,” Jack said absently. He scratched it across a scrap piece of paper and nodded in satisfaction. “Here, take mine. I suppose you’re only be using it to mark boards with anyway.”

“Yes.” I turned to go. I knew better than to talk when I had orders, even if the one giving orders was the one guilty of delaying me. Aside from that, Jack didn’t seem to be able to focus on anything else while he had paper and pencil or paper and ink in front of him. The exception being the drawings he did for pleasure. Maps and blueprints took his entire focus, however. My captain looked stretched thin, and I hated that. I left him feeling very much like I should have taken him from the table and insisted he rest, doctor’s orders. If he didn’t improve soon I would play that card to the fullest, even bully Peter to that end.

Peter couldn’t even look at my legs; I knew I could trample his willpower. He’d go right along with my intentions for Jack’s rest if I told him to. He couldn't deny Jack's weight loss and general air of harassed distraction.

I got lucky in my delivery. Barbossa stood on the beach, not his ship. He spoke with a woman, a beautiful, black-haired woman. He turned at my approach. “Lei,” he said by way of greeting. “This be Magdelena. Magdelena, this be one o Jack’s riggers, Lei.”

I wasn’t surprised the woman mistook me for a boy, for I had gone out of my way the last two weeks to keep up with my disguise. Men seemed to work better if I hid my feminine attributes. Still, I did feel surprised when she offered me her hand. Smiling, I copied the gesture men employed, taking her fingers barely by the tip and bowing over them. “Miss Magdelena,” I said politely.

Turning to Barbossa, I handed him the roll of paper Jack gave me for delivery. “Captain Sparrow asked me to give you this,” I said. I waited for a reply even though Jack hadn’t asked me to do so.

Barbossa read the paper and smirked. “Tell Jack I’ll sail on the morrow,” he informed me. “Such a short hop shouldn’t take me very long.”

“I’ll tell him,” I said.

I glanced back as I walked away. Miss Magdelena had her arm wrapped around Barbossa’s waist. Her eyes gazed adoringly up into his. I thought maybe Pintel had been telling me the truth, then. This island meant more for some than others.

Not thirty feet down the beach Scorby appeared, swimming out of the ocean. She loped up to me almost like a big dog, shaking herself. I marveled at her willingness to get wet; she was a cat. Cats weren’t supposed to like water. “What are you doing?” I asked playfully, patting her wet head. “You must be a crazy kitty, getting out in that water.”

Scorby cast me a look that said she agreed with me perfectly. She sat down to bathe.

“Jack wants us to go hunting,” I informed her. “We almost got to the last time, but then I had a fit. Will you go now?”

Scorby stood again, shook another time, and moved to stand beside my legs.

“I take that for a yes,” I laughed.

*************************************************************************************

We hunted several hours. In that time I discovered just how valuable Scorby could be in a hunting expedition. A dog couldn’t have done as well, I knew, for a dog couldn’t have leapt over ten feet in the air to bring down up to six birds at once. She did it over and over again, not seeming to tire.

Unique to hunt with a cat as your weapon.

The sack bulging with dead birds, some of which I’d had to finish killing with a sharp twist of the neck, Scorby and I made our way toward the mostly completed docks. By now most people were accustomed to seeing the caracal, so we didn’t attract that much attention. Scorby made it clear that she wanted no attention from men that weren’t from the Pearl quite early on…

I helped cook pluck and gut the birds, having no other orders. He seemed glad to get the help. His new assistant had been relegated to carrying water back and forth to work crews. We sent a thousand feathers or more into the air while we toiled, which Scorby had fun playing with.

“We feeding everybody tonight?” Cook grunted.

“Looks like it,” I said. “Sorry. Captain told me to hunt and Scorby really enjoyed herself, so I just filled the bag.”

“Lots o these birds, not an issue,” Cook said shortly. “They’re everywhere. Word is Captain sent Barbossa off to get us some cattle and goats.”

“Good.” I thought about a nice, juicy steak. My mouth began to water.

“And seeds,” Cook went on. “We’ll be able to have gardens. We’ll be totally self-sufficient. Found a few more fresh water springs a few miles back today, the team did.”

“I admit I love water without rum in it,” I said. “And we need that water.”

“Abs’lutely.” Cook gave me a look. “Where you gonna build yer house?”

“Hadn’t thought about it,” I admitted. “Where are you going to build?”

“Don’t really make no difference,” he replied. “I’m just happy to have a big place like this my home.”

I thought about Pintel and our conversation. “How many of us intend to stay here permanently, d’you think?”

“As far as I know, all of us.” Cook peered out over the water. “You wouldn’t get my big vats, would you? I’m going to suggest we cook out here on the sand and let everyone just come as they please.”

“I’ll go,” I said. “I’ll take Mokulu.”

All the while Mokulu and I retrieved the vats I battled a growing feeling of nostalgia for the Pearl. If no one wanted to go back to sea, she would be docked. She had been a very good home to me and I would miss the sea. Perhaps Jack would take her out with a small crew for supplies occasionally and I would go with him.

I nearly tripped over a vat when I realized I intended to stay right where Jack was. I had been thinking of leaving the sea.

And why not, I asked myself tiredly. I lied to myself if I ever imagined I’d gone to sea for any other reason than to understand Jack better. Certainly I loved it, but I’d loved it on the Pearl more than on the Envoy, or the Charlemagne, or the Ruby Lass.

“My Hodari be t’inking a lot dese days,” Mokulu commented as we rowed back to shore.

“Your Hodari thinks so much her head threatens to fall off,” I answered. “I’m so sick of thinking about everything.”

“Yet you cannot help it.” Mokulu grinned at me. “You t’ink about your place here, and you t’ink about de sea, and you t’ink about de captain, and you t’ink about-.”

“Enough, yes,” I protested, laughing. “That’s it.”

“So what you do with all this t’inking?”

“Make myself crazy,” I answered.

“Ah, like de captain.” Mokulu shrugged. “It be why he crazy.”

“No, Jack’s just eccentric,” I said, not really meaning it but bound to defend him anyway.

“He be crazy,” Mokulu repeated. “I see t’ings he do that make me wonder, many times.” He grinned again. “Sort of like, gaffing de big squid on de deck, or hiding a skeleton in bag.”

“I get your meaning,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“So, if you have babies wi’ de captain, dey be crazy, god-touched babies. No chance of anyt’ing else.”

“Are all of you just sitting around, trying to figure out how to get me in the family way with Jack?” I huffed. The amount of attention everyone paid to my love life seemed absolutely unreal.

“De other men, dey talk about how right it is.” Mokulu affected an innocent look. “You know I kill anyone who touch you.”

“Except for Jack,” I said sternly.

“Even if it be Captain Jack,” Mokulu said.

“What if I want him to touch me?” I questioned sharply.

Again Mokulu shrugged. “It not matter. He not honorable enough for you.”

My temper flared. “Now you listen,” I said, standing up in the boat. “If I want him to touch me, I’ll damn well ask him to and you’ll damn well let him, understand?” I wagged a finger at him. “Jack is an honorable man, and a good man, and if I decide I want him it’s none of your affair. Do I tell you who to love?”

Mokulu let the oars go still. His gentle smile brought me to the awareness I’d been neatly maneuvered into revealing myself. I sat down hard, groaning. Mokulu patted my shoulder. “You feel better for saying it all,” he assured me. “Say it to me. Take all de mess and put it together. Say it out loud for me.”

I took a deep breath. “I want Jack and I want him forever, with babies and fights and old age and everything,” I said in a rush. “He makes me crazy with want and I can’t think of anything better than lying underneath him, night after night, screaming his name.”

Mokulu lifted an eyebrow. “That be more than what Sabado wants to know,” he said, but he smiled. “Now, take dis confession and tell it to the man who want to know so much.” He looked back toward the Pearl. “If you take my advice, I give it,” he offered.

“Go ahead,” I answered. I felt relieved and ready to scream at the same time.

“You take him somewhere else. Do not let him take you to de Pearl.” Mokulu eyes grew dark and serious. “On ship he need to be captain, but dis be the place that make his future. Start your futures together on dis island.”

“I understand,” I murmured. “I’m still his crew member. It’ll be easier on both of us if we don’t make our bed on the ship.” I’d actually thought of this myself, though distantly.

“And it give him a place to go that still his own,” Mokulu said. “T’ink about it Hodari. You have fight, he can go dere for comfort. A man need a place all his own when cross words drive him out of de house. He come back to you fast when he have clear place to t’ink his t’oughts.”

“How did you get to be so wise?” I asked.

Mokulu shrugged. “I never say I not also god-touched,” he replied.