Adeena Cole and the Dead Man's Chest

Chapter Twelve

I drew my knees up to my chest and gazed into the crystal waves. It was the day after his death. A rum bottle clinked against the dock as I let my hand dangle. 

We had traveled to Isle de Pelegosto to visit Tia Dalma, on a small sloop that we had 'borrowed' from some unfortunate soul.

I turned my eyes to my lap, oblivious to everything around me.

I had died inside.

I could only think about one thing, despite the haziness the rum had provided. I couldn't stop grieving. I had been so mean, so unforgiving. There was no excuse for how I had behaved. I had wasted the time I had, wasted it for my own selfish reasons.

Never again would I see his handsome face, or taste his rum-flavored lips, or hear his rich laugh, or listen to his befuddling speeches. He was gone. Gone, never to be seen on this earth again.

I reached into my pocket, drawn by some unseen power. My fist closed around something that felt like paper. I drew away my hand and gazed at the apparent trash.

I recognized the two small fragments of parchment as the small pieces of paper I had found in his rum cabinet, back before our fight.

With shaking fingers, I unfolded the wrinkled paper. His handwriting was a bit faded and smeared, probably from being in contact with water, but I could still read the blocky script. There were several paragraphs started, but never finished. A few were scribbled and scratched out, but some were still visible.

You know how I

I've wanted to tell you this for a while...no, she'll make a snide comment.

Just surprise her? Right as she's falling asleep?

While she's drunk? No, she won't remember...

Adeena, I...no.

I've always--No.

I put a hand to my mouth and sobbed, clutching the parchment to my chest, shoulders shaking. He had been trying to tell me far before our fight.

He'd been trying to figure out how to tell me he loved me.

***

"'Ere," Tia Dalma lowered herself to face me, her strange eyes soft. "Against da cold, and de sorrow." She had a tray, clay mugs balanced stop it. I numbly reached out and picked one up. I didn't taste it, though I suspected by Elizabeth's face it was some sort of rum.

"'Tis a shame," Tia continued, standing before Will. "I knowt ye were t'inking dat wit da Pearl, you could free yer fatha."

Will dug his knife out of the table and threw it back in, as he had been the past hour. "Doesn't matter now," He said glumly, not meeting anyone's eyes. Tia set the mug down next to him, in case he should want it. "The Black Pearl is gone, along with her captain."

My eyes filled with tears.

"Aye," Gibbs was standing at the door, watching the moonlight as it flickered across the black Pantano. "And already the world seems a bit less bright..."

I knew Mr. Gibbs would be taking it harder than some of us. Gibbs and...him had been close friends for a long time, and I knew that Gibbs looked up to him rather a lot.

My shoulders trembled. "Here's to Jack Sparrow!" He turned, his glass raised. "A fine captain."

A few tears unwillingly trailed down my cheeks at his name. "A gentleman of fortune, 'e was!" Ragetti chimed in. I chuckled hoarsely at that.

"Never another like Captain Jack," Pintel raised his mug, looking solemn. Another tear. Stupid, stupid...

Will said nothing, but half heartedly tipped his cup.

"He was a good man," Elizabeth said quietly. Will looked to her, his expression unreadable.

My throat hurt, and my nose was all clogged. "He was an amazing man..." I choked out quietly. I refused to cry. I wouldn't.

In sync, we toasted to him, tears slowly dripping down my cheeks. I'm sure that the kohl around my eyes was running horribly.

Will lowered his drink, and turned his gaze on Elizabeth. Elizabeth was almost in tears, but her face wasn't one of sadness, like I would expect, instead, it was one of extreme guilt. Did she blame herself for his death? She shouldn't, it was his own rash and stupid choice...I guess me and him shared that characteristic. We were both insanely stupid and rash.

"Elizabeth," Will asked softly, his voice hesitant and bitter. I lifted my head and narrowed my eyes at him. There was something here that I was missing, between him and Elizabeth. "If anything could be done," Will continued, "To bring him back..."

"Woult ye do it?" Tia Dalma appeared before him, as if she'd materialized. She had a way of doing that. Her eyes were wide, and she almost threatened him to say no. "What woult any of ye do? Woult ye sail ta de ents of da eart and back, to bring back Witty Jack?" She moved forward, gliding across the uneven floor, smirking slightly.

"Aye!" Gibbs answered immediately. I turned my gaze on him, surprised that his eyes were slightly shiny.

"Aye!" Pintel and Ragetti chorused. They glanced at one another, a slight smile on their lips.

Elizabeth nodded. "Yes," She voted quietly.

We all looked at Will. He nodded grudgingly. I, once again, narrowed my eyes on confusion.

Now, everyone was looking to me.

I blinked at Tia Dalma. "Is--is there a way?" I whispered.

She smiled at me. "If ya believe in such t'ings. Wit da sea in ya blood, ya shoult know..."

My eyes widened. That was the second time she had told me that, that I had the sea in my blood. What does that mean...

She smiled, taking that as my silent yes. "If ye want ta brave da weird and 'aunted shores at World's Ent, den," She laughed, "Den ye shall need a captain who knows dohse watahs..."

She turned to the steps leading upstairs as boot steps began to echo around the room.

I stood, along with Elizabeth and Will, and we followed the others as they moved to watched as the unknown person limped down the stairs.

I dropped the mug and it shattered as the mysterious 'captain' was revealed.

"So tell me," He asked in his gravely voice, "What's become of my ship?"

Captain Hector Barboussa it into a shiny, green apple, the juices trickling down his horrible scraggly beard, and that monkey hissed at us from his perch.

I fainted.