It's My Life
folder
Pirates of the Caribbean (All) › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
13
Views:
2,399
Reviews:
8
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Pirates of the Caribbean (All) › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
13
Views:
2,399
Reviews:
8
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 5
Anna couldn’t imagine what he had in mind this time. “All right, Jack, what’s going on? You’ve had practically the entire cask to yourself. You can’t possibly want more rum.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that, luv. Although it’s not the only reason. I have a proposition for you.” Anna sighed inwardly. Here it comes, he’s going to want me to hire Josiah or set aside half of my store of liquor for his crew, or something like that. Business. Well, he got me into it, so it’s only fair I listen…thoughts like that occupied her for the duration of the trip back to the tavern, which went considerably faster since neither of them was carrying a keg. It was a relief to get back into the relative cool of the taproom, even so.
“All right, out with it, Sparrow. What’s on your mind?”
“Well, seeing as how you’re an establishment in Tortuga these days, and seeing as how I wind up hauling half the crew out of here every time we’re leaving anyway, what would you say to a partnership?”
“Not interested, thanks. I’m stuck here while you’re off getting yourself hung or sunk or something, and there goes the partnership. Besides, I'm not going to start fencing loot for you.”
“Not what I meant, luv, but I see the point. Even so, I owe you something for sorting that marriage mess out for me.”
“Oh, right, that’s me. Best matchmaker in Tortuga. Will work for pirates, barmaids, and anybody else who wants me to figure out how to get them married. And the real laugh about it is the fact that I’ve got to be the only single woman in Tortuga who doesn’t necessarily want to stay that way. Maybe I should start drinking. Which reminds me, you owe me for the rum. It’s cheap, but it’s not that cheap.”
“All right, then. So what do you want?”
“What do I want? I want what everybody else seems to have. I want somebody to spend the rest of my life with. I want to matter to somebody for reasons other than convenience and money. I want to wake up in the morning beside somebody who loves me for me, not for what I can do or what I own. I want to stop being lonely, Jack. I want somebody who won’t take one look at my back and remember an appointment elsewhere. That’s what I want. I want a life that means something beyond the walls of this bloody building. I want a life I can live, not just put up with.” Anna felt a huge lump forming in her throat, and the world had gone fuzzy in that peculiar way it did when she was trying desperately not to cry in front of anybody. Holding back her tears was like trying to hold back Noah’s flood by force of will alone, and she knew she wasn’t strong enough to do it any more. She gave in to it and sank into a chair, wracked with silent sobs and hiding her face from Jack and his astonished silence. He said the only thing he could think of instantly, just to say something.
“Ever thought about getting tattooed?”
That got her attention again. “Have I what?”
“Well, it’ll make your back look better, for one thing. Besides, it’s not a cardinal sin if that matters, it’s not illegal, although this being Tortuga that’s not saying much, and it’s definitely not typical of most of the females I’ve ever seen in taverns.”
“Oh, be serious, Jack!”
“I am, luv. Look.” He pulled out his shirt tail and showed her a scar she had known about already, which had been turned by a tattoo into the spine ridge of a stylized dragon curling around the left side of his ribs. Anna had to admit it was well done, and it didn’t hide the scar so much as make it part of something else more interesting. “See what I mean?”
“It’s interesting. But white women don’t get tattooed. Besides, how is that going to fix anything else? “
“Keep your shirt on, or your hair down, and nobody’ll know. Unless you want them to, that is. If you’re going to learn to live, you’re going to have to learn to let go once in a while, and this doesn’t have near as many consequences as the other ways women usually find to let go. Give it a week or so and you won’t even remember it’s there. Here, give us a look at your back.”
“Not here, for the love of all holies! This isn’t a brothel, yet. My room.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that, luv. Although it’s not the only reason. I have a proposition for you.” Anna sighed inwardly. Here it comes, he’s going to want me to hire Josiah or set aside half of my store of liquor for his crew, or something like that. Business. Well, he got me into it, so it’s only fair I listen…thoughts like that occupied her for the duration of the trip back to the tavern, which went considerably faster since neither of them was carrying a keg. It was a relief to get back into the relative cool of the taproom, even so.
“All right, out with it, Sparrow. What’s on your mind?”
“Well, seeing as how you’re an establishment in Tortuga these days, and seeing as how I wind up hauling half the crew out of here every time we’re leaving anyway, what would you say to a partnership?”
“Not interested, thanks. I’m stuck here while you’re off getting yourself hung or sunk or something, and there goes the partnership. Besides, I'm not going to start fencing loot for you.”
“Not what I meant, luv, but I see the point. Even so, I owe you something for sorting that marriage mess out for me.”
“Oh, right, that’s me. Best matchmaker in Tortuga. Will work for pirates, barmaids, and anybody else who wants me to figure out how to get them married. And the real laugh about it is the fact that I’ve got to be the only single woman in Tortuga who doesn’t necessarily want to stay that way. Maybe I should start drinking. Which reminds me, you owe me for the rum. It’s cheap, but it’s not that cheap.”
“All right, then. So what do you want?”
“What do I want? I want what everybody else seems to have. I want somebody to spend the rest of my life with. I want to matter to somebody for reasons other than convenience and money. I want to wake up in the morning beside somebody who loves me for me, not for what I can do or what I own. I want to stop being lonely, Jack. I want somebody who won’t take one look at my back and remember an appointment elsewhere. That’s what I want. I want a life that means something beyond the walls of this bloody building. I want a life I can live, not just put up with.” Anna felt a huge lump forming in her throat, and the world had gone fuzzy in that peculiar way it did when she was trying desperately not to cry in front of anybody. Holding back her tears was like trying to hold back Noah’s flood by force of will alone, and she knew she wasn’t strong enough to do it any more. She gave in to it and sank into a chair, wracked with silent sobs and hiding her face from Jack and his astonished silence. He said the only thing he could think of instantly, just to say something.
“Ever thought about getting tattooed?”
That got her attention again. “Have I what?”
“Well, it’ll make your back look better, for one thing. Besides, it’s not a cardinal sin if that matters, it’s not illegal, although this being Tortuga that’s not saying much, and it’s definitely not typical of most of the females I’ve ever seen in taverns.”
“Oh, be serious, Jack!”
“I am, luv. Look.” He pulled out his shirt tail and showed her a scar she had known about already, which had been turned by a tattoo into the spine ridge of a stylized dragon curling around the left side of his ribs. Anna had to admit it was well done, and it didn’t hide the scar so much as make it part of something else more interesting. “See what I mean?”
“It’s interesting. But white women don’t get tattooed. Besides, how is that going to fix anything else? “
“Keep your shirt on, or your hair down, and nobody’ll know. Unless you want them to, that is. If you’re going to learn to live, you’re going to have to learn to let go once in a while, and this doesn’t have near as many consequences as the other ways women usually find to let go. Give it a week or so and you won’t even remember it’s there. Here, give us a look at your back.”
“Not here, for the love of all holies! This isn’t a brothel, yet. My room.”