Sorry for the long wait in updating. Evil, evil finals. Anyway, both the parts with Will take place before the part with Josephine. A little confusing, but I'm sure everyone can handle it! Sorry for the odd format, but Fanfiction doesn't seem to want to cooperate today...
All In A Day's Work
Days later, the Pearl had docked in Tortuga, and Will was taken to the best--and only--infirmary there was on the island. The only doctor had told Jack that it could take weeks and maybe months for Will's wounds to heal, and even then, he wasn't sure if Will would be able to walk properly. He would, for some time, however, have to walk on a crutch, and could not be walking for too long. This news had only put more of a damper on Will's already very depressed mood, and not knowing of Jack's plan to take him straight back home, he had decided to write a letter to his family.
Sitting up in his small cot in the large and crowded infirmary, Will pulled out a small piece of parchment and taking the ink and quill he had been given, started to write.
My Dearest Elizabeth,
I am not so pleased to inform you that while on the trail of the Vengeance, we had a run in with another pirate ship. Although we won the battle, I was serverely injured. Please do not fret over me, love, because the wonderful doctors here and the infirmary have told me that I will get better.
I miss you so much it is hard to put it in words. I now feel guilty for leaving you at home with Josie, knowing that you may have wanted to come as well. I promise that I will make it up to you upon my return home.
How are the girls doing, by the way? How is the married life treating Victoria? I do hope Josie hasn't gotten herself into any kind of trouble. I miss them so.
Jack sends his greetings, at least that's what I can decipher from his drunken slurring. I should've guess that's how he'd be the entire time we are here in Tortuga...Drunk.
I love you with all my heart and all my being, and I cannot wait to see you once again. I wish that we find this 'Vengeance' soon so I may return home to you and the girls.
Please write back, I'm sure that the letter will find me some how.
Love,
William Turner, Junior
He read over the letter a few more times, making sure that it sounded just right before he sealed it. After writing Elizabeth's name and address he tucked it inside his pillow case to give to Jack later upon his return. Then, he wrote a second letter, one that Elizabeth would be able to share with his daughters without the secret slipping:
My dear family,
While on our way to (Enter random Carribean city), we had a bit of a run in with one of the very few pirate ships that are left. We tried to avoid contact with the ship as best we could, but they were much the faster. Being a mere merchant ship, we had very little arms and had to use every able man to battle off the pirates. We won, but at a great cost.
I regret to inform you all that I was injured, but only slightly. We had to stop at the only nearest port--unfortunately it was Tortuga, the pirate haven--and we shall stay here until the rest of the injured parties, and myself, are healed enough for us to continue with our journey.
Now, onto more pleasant news, shall we?
The sights on the ship make me speechless, the wonderful sunsets, the breathtaking views of the ocean--I'm sure you'd all enjoy yourselves greatly, especially you, Josie. I do hope you are behaving for your mother--I don't want to hear you are causing trouble the minute I leave Port Royal. (But that doesn't mean you can't cause a litte)
Only joking, Elizabeth.
Anyway, please feel free to write to me, I'm sure it will reach me in Tortuga.
I love you all very dearly,
Your father,
William Turner, Junior
He folded this letter as well, and sealed it, adressing it to his entire family, before stuffing it in the pillowcase with his other letter. Sighing deeply in pure frustration, he fell back against his pillows, staring meekly at the ceiling, drifting off into a daydream of what may happen the day he told the girls the truth.
That he was a pirate, not a blacksmith.
Groaning in antisipation, he closed his eyes and rolled over, sleep being one of the things he did to take his mind off of things, as they wouldn't let him drink in the infirmiry
"William!" Jack's voice came from the door, it caught Will by suprise, not expecting to see Jack so soon. The Captain made his way over to Will, and for the first time since arriving he seemed a bit sober. Will sat up, looking at Jack expectantly.
"Jack," Will nodded, waiting to hear what the Captain had to say.
"I just spoke with a really nice nurse over there," He jerked his head side-ways in the direction of a woman nurse who was rebandaging a little boy's arm. Will shook his head, smirking with disbelief of his friend's actions. "She says ye'll be good to go in about another week or so. Well, I got to thinkin' and I think it'd be best if I took ye back to Port Royal." He held up his hands to keep Will from interrupting him, "I'll come back fer ye in a few weeks, an' Elizabeth can come if she really wants to..."
"What about the 'Vengeance'?" Will asked him, "You'll lose the trail..."
"Will, ye are no good to me injured, so ye might as well go home...And as fer the Vengeance, Captain Henry can wait at the moment..." He brushed off the comment.
"So ye know where he is?"
"No, but I got a hunch," Jack told Will, "And that's as good as I'm gonna get with Captain Henry, he's a bit o' a thinker...He likes to confuse..."
Will nodded, thinking about it for a second. "Jack, I can't go home," he finally told him.
"Why not?"
"You see, when the girls were five, Josephine first showed an interest in pirates. She used to play pirates with our neighbor's boy, Sam Parker. Victoria, however, showed a great disliking in them. Elizabeth and I felt that they had a right to know, but Elizabeth's father protested, saying that it wouldn't do them any good."
"So ye're tellin' me ye've never told them the story?" Will nodded.
"Don't you get it? If I go home injured, Josie and Victoria will want to know what happen. I don't know why, but I don't think I'm ready to tell them the truth...I just don't want them to hate me for lying to them for the past 18 years." Will sighed, leaning back once again. He furrowed his brow in deep thought, but was interrupted, however when Jack spoke up.
"I think, if ye don't mind me saying," Jack started, "That the two of ye--Elizabeth and ye, I mean--should tell 'em everything from the very beginning."
"Do you think we should tell them about Elizabeth's father?" Will asked Jack, "Tell them that it was his idea?"
"I think you should tell 'em it was his idea originally, but don't point fingers, that ain't nice," Jack smirked.
"Guess I got a lot of thinking to do," Will sighed.
"Ye got that right," Jack laughed, standing up.
"If you're going out, can you mail these for me?" Will asked, taking out the letters again, "It should explain everything to Elizabeth. and the girls."
"Aye," Jack nodded, taking the letters and pocketing them, "Now if ye'll excuse me, they got a pint o' rum at the tavern with me name on it..."
Back In Port Royal
The days seemed unbearable when Will first left, yet somehow they lived and became busy. Elizabeth was employed at Oceanside manor, the estate of a very wealthy merchant. She was a tutor there in order to make ends meet since her and Will refused to ask her father for money. The Governor did help, he covered any doctor's visit and any clothing. He did not want his granddaughters dressing like...common folk! The horror and shame! Will had left some money and an apprentice in the smithy. However, the apprentice did not have to share the money he made while Will was away and he clung to that. So Elizabeth resumed worked as a tutor and Josephine started working in the general store that Sam's family ran. She got paid a fair amount and because she was a diligent worker, there weren't any problems, even though she was a girl. Their days began to have more order again. The high points were the letters that Will sent and replying to them. Of course there was the ball to look forward to, but Josephine did not like thinking about that.
A low groan escaped her lips as Josephine cracked her eyes open, only to realize that a stray ray of burning sunlight landed right on them. She quickly squeezed her eyes shut and desperately wished to roll over and sleep for hours like her heavy body wished to do. However, duty called its ceaseless command and Josephine grumbled, pulling herself up to a sitting position. She moaned again as she tightly clutched her head to try and stop the pounding. Images flashed before her as her head continued to throb more forcefully. Oh God!... I only had two more bottles than normal and I didn't get drunk, just a bit tipsy. She swung her legs over the side of her bed and reluctantly resigned herself to stand up and face the day. Obstinately ignoring the endless, pulsing pain in her head, Josephine, after stumbling blindly and cursing at the night table when she banged her foot, managed to light a candle. In the flickering light mixed with the lone tiny ray of sunshine that sneaked through her minuscule window, she found a plain navy dress to wear, thin stockings and well-worn shoes. The corset occupied its usual spot: at the bottom of the closet, buried under a heap of clothes. After finding her favorite apron torn, she cursed again, yet still put it on as she refused to wear her other apron that was permanently flat from starch.
Taking the candle, she walked carefully down the stairs into the kitchen and was surprised to see her mother bustling about at the stove. Normally Josephine had to drag her mother out of bed, with the help of a cup of water.
"Good morning, Mother," Josephine greeted cheerfully, inwardly wincing as her head drummed louder.
"Oh, good morning, darling," Elizabeth called gaily, not looking up from the whistling tea pot. "Did you wash up?"
"I was just about to," Josephine replied convincingly enough. How come they always know. She scowled as she made her way over to the pail of water and grimaced as she washed her face with the awful smelling soap they had made. She glanced at the small cracked mirror and noticed that her eyes were still a bit bloodshot, not to mention the circles underneath them. Let's hope she doesn't notice. When she returned to the kitchen, she found two steaming bowls of porridge on the table and tea being poured by her singing mother.
"I give up, Mother," Josephine questioned slyly. "What has gotten you into such a fine mood so early in the day? Have those spoiled little brats caught the measles?"
"If only!" Elizabeth exclaimed laughing. "No, your father's letter should be here today."
"Ah, and how much of your reply have you written?" Josephine asked smiling.
"Only a page and a half," Elizabeth replied looking sheepish, but she had that sarcastic glint in her eye.
"Only a page and a half!" Josephine half admonished. "I'm ashamed of you, Mother! I thought you'd be a better wife to your poor husband!"
"Oh, I'm so sorry! What a horrible wife I am! Only a page and a half!"
The two burst out in a fit of mad laughter. Remembering the time, they quickly calmed down and continued eating.
"Josie?" Elizabeth asked in a slow, questioning voice.
"Yes, Mother?" She's noticed, dammit, she knows!
Where exactly did you go last night with Richard and Catherine? 'The White Swan', wasn't it?"
"Yes." Josephine replied, uncertain as to where her mother was going with these questions.
"So how much did you drink, then?"
"Only a few bottles more than usual." Josephine replied truthfully. She quickly added more as Elizabeth's jaw set and embers of anger began to flicker in her eyes. "I wasn't drunk, Mother, just a bit tipsy. I was myself the whole time."
"Josie, have you no sense?" Elizabeth admonished with perfect sternness, though without raising her voice. "You have a job, responsibility. You can't go off every night with your friends, especially if you're getting drunk!"
"Mother, I was not drunk! We hardly ever go to taverns anyway. Besides, after spending all of Saturday ogling over dresses and fabrics with 'Tory and her slimy friend, I needed to be myself."
"Being yourself doesn't mean getting drunk."
"Mother, I wasn't drunk!"
Elizabeth's frigid eyes were narrow and her stern, disapproving face glared at Josephine from across the wooden table. Refusing to acknowledge her daughter's last outburst, she continued to calmly eat her porridge as she deliberately removed her piercing glare from Josephine. Her disapprovement and disappointment hung around the room like a voluminous cloak, binding and choking Josephine into its many folds. Nothing abated Josephine's exasperation and her misery tripled steadily. She followed her mother's lead and forced down the porridge that stuck in her throat.
The minutes ticked slowly by on the wind-up clock that rested above the mantle. Elizabeth finished her meal and calmly rose from the table, placing her dishes in the sink. She scurried around the cottage gathering all her books and supplies. Grabbing her cloak and hat from the peg on the wall and placing her things in a large wicker basket, she hurriedly rushed out the door.
"Good bye, Josie," Elizabeth called, walking as fast as a woman in a corset can.
"'Bye, Mother," Josephine called back before quickly washing the dishes. With those done, she spent a few minutes tidying up and then, locking the door, walked out into an early Caribbean morning. The brilliant fire-orange sun graced the sky as she hailed good morning to the world. Clouds rimmed in pastels brightened joyously, eagerly awaiting for their daily journey. Birds were singing in the air and mottled dogs scrounged the town fighting beggars for scraps thrown out into the street. As it was almost seven, many common people were out rushing to their own jobs while drunken men swaggered around after a night at the taverns, until reaching home, or the middle of the street.
"Hey, ye pretty little wench," a large drunken bloke slurred to Josephine. "How's 'bout spending a little fun time wit' me, eh?"
Before Josephine could retort, the man passed out, his head landing heavily on her foot. After wrenching her foot free, Josephine took a great deal of care treading on the man before continuing on. She reached the store without any other incident. Stepping inside, she met a cheerful Mr. Parker, Sam's father, whistling while he cleaned the counter. Sam was behind him stocking the rickety wooden shelves that covered the wall behind the counter. On seeing Josephine, Mr. Parker's face broke into a wide grin.
"Well, good morning Miss Josephine," he greeted as he waved to her, his dirty rag dancing in his hand.
"Good morning, Mr. Parker," Josephine replied with a deep bow and an air of playful dignity. "I see we are being formal this morning, sir."
"Oh, yes. Where are my manners?" Mr. Parker asked with a ridiculously low bow and gesturing wildly with his rag. "May I have the honor of introducing a fine young man, my son of course, to your acquaintance, miss."
"Good morning, my fair lady," Same stated cordially with a bow as ridiculous as his father's. "Mr. Samuel James Parker at your service."
"Good morning Mr. Parker," Josephine replied smiling while curtsying absurdly herself.
"Forgive me one moment, miss. I must readjust this ridiculous wig that makes me look like a fool and straighten my bright red coat. Now, I shall pander to you unmercifully for hours and expect you to be infatuated with my ravishing self."
Josephine burst out laughing. The motions he went through and the seriousness were exactly like Captain Norringtion that she could not help it.
"Unfortunately, 'tis way too true," she gasped through her laughter.
"Come you two, there's work to be done," Mr. Parker intervened noticing Sam about to continue.
"Of course, how could we ever forget," Josephine replied winking to Sam as she grabbed the broom and began sweeping. Sam went back to stocking the shelves, every so often glancing at a chestnut head that was weaving around the store.
"Josie!"
"Aye, Mr. Parker."
"When you're done cleaning, I need your help back here."
"Very well," she replied, putting back the broom and taking another rag.
Josephine soon finished dusting and went into the back where she found towers of wooden barrels and crates. She looked at Mr. Parker with eyes wide in amazement.
"I'll need you and Sam to put all these goods away. Our ship came in yesterday. Think ye can handle it?"
Glancing back at the endless piles, her pride rose and she responded confidently. "Of course."
Mr. Parker chuckled to himself as he walked away. A lot of spirit in that girl.
In the back room, Josephine struggled with the crates. She was somewhat tall, but the tops of the towers were just out of her reach. Kicking the nearest tower, she cursed in frustration.
"That's not very ladylike, you know," Sam said grinning. "Do you need help?"
"Yes," she admitted grudgingly, glaring at the accursed crates.
"Are you sick?" Sam asked with a look of concern. "Because I believe I just heard Josephine Turner actually admitting that she needs help."
"Don't make me hurt you, Samuel," Josephine shot back sarcastically.
Sam smiled and brought down the highest crates effortlessly. He placed them around Josephine, who, pretending to be annoyed, turned her back to him and started emptying the nearest crate which contained cartons of tea. She took as many cartons as she could carry in her torn apron and walked past Sam, making sure he wasn't trying to trip her as he and Richard loved to do. When she was done putting them on the shelves, she came back and found Sam still bringing down crates. After a quick glance at him, she went back to her crate full of tea.
"What, still no thank you?" Sam asked teasingly, his eyes grinning over another crate. "I expected better from the Governor's own granddaughter."
"You expect too much. And ye better watch yerself, you're treading on dangerous ground, Sam," she retorted warningly, though with a small smirk.
"I still think I deserve a thank you," Sam replied reaching forward and tugging a lock of her hair. How she hated that! She whirled around, her hand opened, ready to slap him. However, Sam had anticipated her reaction and caught her hand in his. Josephine was bewildered and let her guard down. Sam grinned and pushed her lightly backwards, toppling her into the nearest crate.
"SAMUEL JAMES PARKER!" Josephine screamed in astonishment through her laughter. "You get me out, now!"
"You still haven't said thank you."
"Argh," she sighed, trying to keep a straight face. She groped for something on the floor to throw. A bar of soap found its way into her hand and she flung it straight at his face.
"Ouch!" he exclaimed rubbing his forehead where the soap had hit him. "I forgot you had good aim."
"Well now you remember. Get me out!"
"I'm still waiting."
"Fine!" she spat in defeat. Then she adopted the tone of a child reciting her lessons. "Thank you oh wonderful Sam for getting down those awfully heavy crates for poor little me."
"See, that wasn't so hard," Sam replied grinning, giving her his hand to pull her out. Standing up, Josephine straightened her dress and found Sam desperately trying to contain his laughter..
"What?" she asked self-consciously.
"Your...hair," he gasped.
Josephine's hands instantly flew to her hair and she quickly found a mirror and started laughing herself. Her hair was disheveled with straw poking out everywhere at odd angles and a wide variety of items tangled in it.
"If only the Governor could see me," she said, sending them both into anther burst of laughter.
"Josie!" Mr. Parker exclaimed in shock. He had not expected to see that when he came back to see what was delaying them. "What in the blazes happened?"
"Nothing, just a bit of fun," she replied, trying to keep a straight countenance.
"Well, clean up and get back to work You'll have enough time for play." With that, Mr. Parker stalked back into the store, grumbling as he went. They're nothing better than schoolchildren!
"Don't just stand there, help me!" Josephine ordered Sam, waking him from his reverie as he still continued to stare at the spot his father just vacated. He promptly came over and after about ten minutes of struggle, Josephine at last looked decent. A pile of straw, three teabags, an ivory comb, and a quill lay on the floor after they had been released from her thick hair. They went back to work and managed, with difficulty, to behave until dinner.
"Bloody hell!" Josephine exclaimed after rummaging through her things. "I forgot my dinner."
"Again?" Sam asked in disbelief. "Well, you could starve, or take mine."
"I'll starve."
"Suit yourself," he replied taking a huge bite of his sandwich and looking positively ridiculous.
"You gluttonous pig!" she reproached, laughing while helping herself to the other half of his sandwich. Sam made an alarmed face and quickly tried to swallow.
"You miserable, little thief! Taking my sandwich, eh? I'll have you hanged!" he cried jokingly.
"Really," she replied nonchalantly. "Well, might as well enjoy my last meal."
Sam chuckled and shook his head. "You are definitely one of a kind."
"I know. Do you think I'd want to be just like those pathetic little things whose sole mission in life is to marry high and get rich?"
"No, of course not. I know you better than that. Speaking of scheming little things, you're going to that ball, right?"
"Unfortunately, yes. I shudder just thinking about it. A whole evening dancing in ridiculous shoes with Captain Norrignton not giving me a minute's peace. Oh, what fun!"
"Rather you than me," Sam replied happily.
Josephine shot him a look which set him laughing again. They passed their dinner in that fashion, two friends laughing and chatting with occasional disruptions from odious customers. Mr. Parker soon returned and they were back stocking shelves. Soon enough, the day was over and the work finally done.
"Josie! Can I see you for a moment?" Mr. Parker called again from his back room.
"Just a minute, sir. Let me get my things," she called back, fumbling as she tied up her shawl so nothing would fall out.
"Yes, sir. What is it?" she asked as she arrived.
"Sam said you were going to the ball on Monday, correct?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well, what time will you need to be leaving?"
"Umm, I think about four. Victoria and Edward will be picking us up at five-thirty."
"Only an hour and a half to get ready for a ball! My daughters take that long to get ready to go down the street!"
Josephine laughed. "Surely they're not that bad."
"You'd be surprised," he stated dryly. "When do you want to make up the time?"
"How about Wednesday?"
"Wednesday... That will work. Sam can stay late with you. I don't trust young ladies alone with all those drunks roaming about."
"Sounds wonderful. Is that all, sir?"
"No, Anne was wondering if you and your mother would like to have supper with us this Friday. It's Maria's birthday."
"I'll ask Mother, but I think we will be able to come. Should we bring anything besides a present?"
"No, just the present will be fine."
"Very well, sir. See you tomorrow."
"Tomorrow."
Josephine walked happily towards the door, where she was stopped by Sam.
"I suppose you are going to insist on walking me home again, right?" she asked annoyed.
"Yes," came the simple reply as they walked through the door. The sun was setting over the harbor, casting blazing trails of fire across the innocent blue sky.
"You know, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself."
"Yes, but what about those evil drunks."
"I'll bash their skulls in."
"With what?"
"A hammer."
"But you don't have one."
"Fine, I'll use you instead."
"How can you if I'm not there?"
"But you are now, so I'd use you."
"But what if I wasn't there?"
"I'd find a hammer that didn't talk."
"Very funny."
"I thought so," she replied victoriously with a wide grin. Fairly soon they arrived at her cottage since it was not far away.
"Well, I'll see you tomorrow, Sam. Good night."
"Good night, Josie."
She stepped into the house and shut the door, leaving Sam on the steps. He turned, hands in his pockets, and walked home in the ever deepening dusk. Inside their snug cottage, Josephine placed her things up in her room and then set about attempting to make supper. She was still a novice at cooking, a fact aptly proved by the several cuts she received while chopping potatoes. Toiling in the hot, steamy kitchen, Josephine eagerly dreamed of sitting on the cool shore watching the tide change. A foul, charred smell broke her from her daydream and she realized that meat was burning. She whisked it out of the fire, sending forth a tirade of curses as Elizabeth strolled in the door letting in a breath of the fresh, salty breeze.
Laughing, Elizabeth set down her things and rushed over to rescue the meat from her furious daughter.
"Calm down, Josie, it's just some meat," Elizabeth said soothingly as she eased the pot out of Josephine's tight grasp. Setting the heavy pot on the stove, Elizabeth stirred it throughly and pronounced her judgment. "It hasn't been burnt that much, just a little bit around the edges. It'll taste just fine."
"Come on, Mother, we both know I'll never be a decent cook, so let's have the whole truth. I know it's worse than that, the entire pot was smoking!" Josephine replied with a touch of bitterness.
"I'm not sparing you the grisly details, Josie. It really isn't all that bad, take a look."
Josephine leaned hesitantly over the pot and was greatly surprised to see meat that actually looked edible. She turned a stunned gaze up to her mother.
Elizabeth laughed again. "See, you're not hopeless! Or drunk, for that matter."
Josephine grinned joyfully knowing she had been forgiven. "At least not yet!"
"Josie..."
Tortuga
YO HO A PIRATES LIFE FOR ME!" Jack shouted, swinging his arms wildly as he sang along with the other pirates in the tavern. "AND REALLY BAD EGGS!" He shouted all the louder--funny how those are the only parts of the song he remembers... He fell backwards back into his seat, pointing at Gibbs...or what he thought was Gibbs..."You!" he shouted at a large barrel, "ORDER ME ANOTHA' PINT YE SCAVOUROUS DOG!" He laughed stupidly to himself as he pounded his hand on the table. Suddenly, the smell of smoke came to him and he stood up, yelling, "FIRE IN TH' HOLE! GET OUT OF HERE--THE PLACE IS ON FIRE!" He ran clumsily from the tavern, looking right and left as if figuring out which way would be safer. He went to the left, although at a slower pace as his mind was spinning. He looked around him and saw that some pirates were having a bon-fire in the middle of an alley way. Rum was being shared, and songs were being sung, so Jack decided that would be a good place to seek haven.
"Hold it!" One of the other pirates, obviously drunk, exclaimed. "To join this 'ere fire, ye got t' add somefin' to it."
"O' course!" Jack told him, slapping the man on the back. "It wouldn't be a true bon-fire if ol' Cap'n Jack didn't add somefin' t' it..." He patted himself down, trying to find something he could add when his hands felt some loose articles of paper. He took them out and glanced at them, but in his drunken state, he couldn't make out the handwriting on them, or what they said for that matter. "IN THEY GO!" He told them all quite loudly, dropping the papers in the fire. "A PIRATES LIFE FOR ME!" He shouted before he passed out cold, right there, as the fire blazed on and the pirates continued their party, as if nothing at all had happened...
And with that happy note, review!