The next couple of days were a bit of a blur for Evangeline. She had been given a new set of clothes so that she could, respectfully, shed the guard's outfit. She now wore a man's white, square-cut shirt, a black vest, a pair of tan breeches that had to be cinched at her wait with a belt, and boots. The fact that she was wearing men's clothing didn't bother her one bit, they were actually quite liberating. She had been introduced to the crew; a few men were outraged that there was a woman aboard. Others, like her new friends Ragetti and Pintel, were glad to have her.
Ragetti had a wooden eye, he was tall and loved to talk Geline's ear off. Pintel was short like Gibbs, and had very little hair on top of his head; he seemed to be the leader because he spoke over Ragetti most of the time. They were constantly attending to Evangeline, asking her if she needed anything, and if she was feeling alright. She always told the pirates she was just fine.
But some days she lied. Some days Evangeline felt so utterly alone, unable to contain her grief over her father's death. But she never showed it; she reserved a time for outward mourning, at night when no one was around to watch her breakdown. Jack was mostly busy looking at maps, recording data into his log; she ached for his company but never bothered him.
Evangeline leaned against the rail one night, the moon was hiding behind clouds, and the only light was from the lamps. She peered into the vast darkness that was the sea, and wandered what manner of creatures were below her: fish, sharks, whales, sea monsters, mermaids? She wondered if they were looking up at her, and if they were, what were they thinking? The sea was a bit more choppy than usual, she noted.
"What are ya doin' up so late, luv?" Jack asked, suddenly by her side.
She turned and felt her face brighten considerably.
"Nothing important," she replied.
"Gazin' at the water, eh?"
She nodded her head and Jack turned so that his back was against the railing, taking a sip of rum.
"We're advancing to Tortuga. Should be there in a few days," he mumbled. "I've been noticing that those two gents have taken a likin' to ya."
"Two gents?"
"Aye, the fat one and the one with the...eye," he said, putting a hand over his own eye.
"Oh, Regetti and Pintel! I suppose, they have been very kind to me."
"How are ya doing, Geline?" he asked, changing the subject. "With yer father, and the fact that I ceremoniously dragged you from your home."
Evangeline sighed, and turned as Jack had.
"Some days...I'm unsure of what to do with myself, and my home is gone," she answered.
Jack took a heavy swig of rum and nodded his head.
"'Tis a good thing I came back for ya that night, you'd be dead, no doubt."
"Why did you come back, Jack?" she asked quietly, fearing the answer.
"Well I couldn't bloody well leave ya, could I? I admit, I wasn't plannin' on it until I really thought about how awful I would feel if I did leave ya. It was my conscience speakin' really, didn't know I had one 'til the other day."
Evangeline smiled at her captain, he was an odd one. She looked up to the sky and again noticed the absence of the moon. The clouds were thick and dark, and she thought she spotted lighting.
"Looks like a storm," Jack commented, looking up as well.
As if on cue, they felt a few raindrops plop onto their heads. Jack turned to Evangeline and smiled.
"It's gonna be a long night, luv," he said, sauntering off towards the helm.
Within a matter of seconds the raindrops became bigger, plopping down on Evangeline. She heard the crack of thunder above her, as the sky lit up underneath the cloud cover. The rain became heavier, dumping onto the deck and the sails began to wave about. She looked over the edge, to the water, and saw it was a bit more violent than if had been minutes ago.
She rushed up to the helm, next to Jack.
"How bad is it going to get?" she asked, shielding her face from the rain.
"It's gonna be a monster, I can feel it," Jack replied, looking at the sails.
"Marty!" Jack called as the short man who was on watch ran to Jack.
"Aye, captain?"
"Go wake the rest of the crew up, tell 'em it's a nasty one."
Marty nodded his head and ran away, thunder and lightning proceeding. Evangeline felt the ship rock back and forth and heard her groan and creak, the rain coming down in buckets now.
"Luv, I want ya to bunker up in my cabin, I won't be able to keep an eye on ya with all the madness that's about to ensue," he yelled to Evangeline.
"I'll be fine! I want to help," she replied.
"Go, Evangeline," he yelled back, "I'm not playing games with ya right now, just get outta the rain and if by some random happenstance you are needed, you'll be fetched. Please go."
Evangeline nodded her head.
"You'll be okay?"
Jack turned to look at her, rain falling down his face as he smiled charmingly.
"Luv, really, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow. Now shoo!"
Evangeline obeyed, clamoring down the steps and turning the corner to Jack's cabin. She opened the doors and shut them behind her as thunder shook the ship. It was dark and she fumbled around, looking for a candle. When she found one on his desk, she then looked for something to light it with, which was a bit more difficult.
She found what she required in the lower drawer of the desk and lit the wick; the room illuminated. She looked around. She hadn't been in Jack's quarters before. She noticed the papers, ledgers, maps and logs strewn about his desk. She jumped a bit when she heard yelling out on deck but her eyes continued to roam. She shed her wet jacket, laying it across Jack's chair. She ran her hands along the papers on his desk, admiring his penmanship; how his letters looped and curled. She smiled at the thought of him sitting and writing by candlelight. Evangeline then let her eyes roam to a little built-in cubbyhole along the wall, she held the candle up to it and saw that it was filled with books.
She read some of their spines; Shakespeare's 'Hamlet', 'Arabian Nights' by Anthony Galland, Daniel Defoe's 'Robinson Crusoe' and 'The Storm'. 'Don Quixote' by Miguel De Cevontes, and Jane Austen's 'Persuasion'.
Evangeline smiled and picked up the Jane Austen novel, turning it in her hands. He must have bought, or stolen, a copy after he read it at her home all those years ago. She set the book back down and went over the titles again. Such wonderful works, in a pirate captain's cabin. He had to be intelligent to read these books, and intelligent he was.
She moved across the cabin as it poured and thundered outside with men shouting to one another. The sea swelled, and splashed against the large windows. She set the candle back on Jack's desk and sat down on his bed, which was not at all uncomfortable. She pulled her boots off and lied down, resting her head against the pillow that held Jack's head every-night. She snuggled into his blankets breathed in his scent; rum, salt, and what seemed to be oranges. It was a lovely scent.
She wondered how many women had lied in this bed with Jack. How many women had Jack kissed, whispered sweet nothings to, made love to in this very bed? The thought made her ill and she sat up, still clutching the blankets to her. She felt the Pearl rock back and forth on massive waves and heard men yelling. She prayed Jack was all right. She suddenly felt tired.
She forgot about any previous women, blew out the candle, and lied back down, her tangled raven curls splayed against the pillow. Evangeline imagined she was lying next to Jack, his fingertips running along her arm, gently, as he whispered to her.
"I love you," she imagined him saying.
She would smile and he would lean into her, kissing her softly, pulling her closer to him. She would nuzzle against his chest and fall asleep, blissfully.
She often imagined scenarios such as this to help her get to sleep; it always worked. She fell asleep in Jack's bed as the storm raged on outside for hours, the crew members soaked to the bone, exhausted, injured, freezing. Finally, when it died down, the crew literally fell asleep on deck, not caring that it was wet wood they were slumbering upon.
Evangeline woke when she heard Jack enter his cabin, but she didn't let him know she was awake, her eyes were open just enough to see him and early morning light streamed through the large windows. He sauntered in, damp and tired, and hung his jacket up on a peg by the door. He removed his wet pants, sitting on the edge of the bed, knowing full well that Evangeline was sleeping there. He kicked off his boots, removed his never ending supply of effects, and slipped his shirt off, tossing it on the floor.
Evangeline felt her heart beat quicken as he stood up and sleepily walked to the other side of his bed, crawling in beside her. He didn't seem to care that she was there, all he wanted was sleep. She felt him, his back to her, lying on his left side, and heard his breathing even out until he was asleep. It was a rather tight fit, they were almost touching. She didn't dare move for fear of waking him.
She studied the tattoo on his back, the one she had asked about years ago. It was some kind of poem, she remembered. She refrained from reaching out to touch the golden letters and instead froze as Jack changed position and lied on his back so that she could see his face, the one she had so often admired. The lips she would love to kiss, the straight sloping nose, strong jaw. Lord, he was beautiful, and she ached to touch him. But she knew not to, and so she looked up at the ceiling instead to cut out temptation. She never fell back sleep, she just stared up and thought about Anne and Fredrick and the thirteen years that had kept them apart. Anne never stopped loving the captain, not one minute, not one second during those thirteen years. She thought about this for what seemed like hours.
She felt Jack shift in his sleep and she froze again until he righted himself. He mumbled something incoherent and she smiled widely, holding in a giggle. She sat up slowly, so as not to wake him, grabbed her jacket and boots, and tiptoed across the floor towards the door.
The air was humid, and she could still smell rain. It was bit foggy, but she could see. She looked up at the helm to see Barbossa, wheel in hand, a satisfied smirk on his face as he captained his old ship for a while.
"Good morning, Captain Barbossa!" she shouted, waving to him.
"Lass," he said, nodding his head in her general direction.
"Good mornin', miss!" she heard someone cheerily call behind her.
Evangeline turned and smiled at Gibbs who was sitting on a barrel, stitching up a sail that had been damaged during the storm.
"Good morning, Mr. Gibbs," she replied, sitting on a barrel next to him.
"Did that God awful storm keep ya awake?" he asked, not lifting his eyes from his work
"No, I actually slept well."
"Good, good! Say lass, would you mind helpin' me out with somethin'?"
She shook her head. "No, I wouldn't mind at all."
"Would you mind finishing this patch job for me? There's a lot of work to be done," he declared.
"Of course."
He handed her the beaten sail along with the needle and thread. She worked silently, stitching tiny x's to hold the patch to the sail. She felt part of the crew just then, as if she was contributing to something, earning her keep. She had never been on her father's merchant ships as a child, as she was deathly afraid of the water at that age. But, she loved the feeling of being on a ship, in the middle of the ocean, the only family near being the members of a crew who depended on each other, and who in turn depended on their captain.
She concentrated on her work as she quietly sang a song she had heard a crew member singing a few days earlier.
If home is where the heart is,
Then my heart is lost at sea.
And I have built my palace,
Where the sand and waters meet.
She pricked her finger and brought it to her mouth to nurse it, the metallic taste of her own blood filling her mouth. She didn't wish to see it, the sight of her own blood made her sick.
If home is where the heart is,
Then my heart is lost at sea.
My love left me long ago,
Oh where could my love be?
After her finger decided to stop bleeding, she resumed her work, fixing up another tear in the sail.
If home is where the heart is,
Then my heart is lost at sea.
And I have built my palace,
Where I shall wait for thee.
Evangeline noticed the crew members scurrying around her; fixing damaged goods, swabbing the deck, tying off various ropes and yelling at each other. Loudly yelling...
"It ain't like the captain forced the storm upon us," A scrawny, brown skinned, and young deck hand screeched.
"All I'm sayin' is, if Sparra hadnta brought tha' girl aboard, tha whole bleedin' ting may have been avoided," A fat, mustached, and beady eyed man yelled back.
"A girl ain't going to change the weather, man!"
"She be a witch, ten! A cursed witch who won't rest 'til she see tat tis ship is at tha bottom of the sea, and us wiv it!"
"Weston! And...whatever yer name is! Get back to work before I personally see that said witch curses sterility upon ya both! Now!" Jack ordered.
The two men continued their chores, glaring at each other.
"Good morning, luv!" he said, sitting on the barrel where Gibbs's bum had sat earlier.
"Good morning, Jack," she replied.
"I see Gibbs has found something for you to do, eh? Prick yer finger yet?" he chuckled.
"Only once."
"Well good job, luv! You're doing better than Gibbs! Sails always have to be washed after he patches 'em up, because he bleeds all over the bleedin' things," he said, giving her a thumbs up.
She smiled at him as he sauntered away, towards the helm. She knew she was staring, and that it was impolite, but she loved to see him up there. He always looked heroic and handsome.
"What ya staring at, lass?"
Evangeline jumped and turned to see Barbossa relaxing up against the rail next to her, a half eaten apple in his hand.
"Captain Barbossa, you startled me," she said.
"Beggin' yer pardon, miss," he replied, half-heartedly.
"Barbossa, do you ever eat anything other than apples?" Gibbs, who was now sitting on the barrel again, asked.
Barbossa glared daggers at him, and took a bite of his fruit.
"Ye know that after my unfortunate dealings at Isla De la Muerta, I swore the first thing I would eat 'twould be apples. A bushel of 'em."
"Aye, and you've eaten several bushels since then. Several hundred," Gibbs stated.
Evangeline looked at both men, confused and suddenly hungry.
"So, miss McKenna," Barbossa started, "Exactly how long have ye known ol' Jack Sparrow?"
She thought about it for a moment, setting her work aside.
"Well, a few years. I met him when I was sixteen, and ever since we have spent time together, on and off. Specifically, maybe five or more years," she said, tucking her raven hair behind her ear.
"Ah. Now, exactly how long have ye been in love with Jack Sparrow?" he asked, smirking.
"What?" she squeaked. "I...I don't...love him. That's absurd! He's just my friend! Why would you...he is my...we are just close. Love him? That's so...far from the truth."
Evangeline fumbled for the words, panicking. Gibbs smiled sweetly and patted her arm.
"It's alright, miss. We know."
She sighed and covered her face with her hands.
"Is it that obvious?" she whispered.
"Aye, lass," Barbossa said.
Evangeline whimpered.
"Does everyone know?" she asked.
"Aye, mostly."
She stared up in horror at the men.
"Does Jack know?"
"Jack wouldn't know that his own mum loved him if she said it to his face," Gibbs snorted. "The man is clueless."
Evangeline let out a sigh and looked up to the helm where Jack stood, leaning against the wheel and peering at his compass.
"You won't tell him, will you?" she asked, twirling piece of hair around her finger.
Barbossa looked her with a raised eyebrow and scoffed.
"No, that would only make matters aboard this ship worse, miss. Madness might ensue," he said.
Evangeline gave him a questioning look and shook her head.
"Why?"
"Because Jack is a bleedin' womanizer, it's odd enough that he hasn't made a move on ye yet!"
She felt her face fall. A womanizer? Hadn't made a move? If he had been with many women, something must be wrong with her, something that would prevent or stop Jack from being attracted to her. She wasn't good enough for the likes of Jack Sparrow. She might as well stop loving him, if it was at all possible.