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The Haunting Place	By : Lktwoozee Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (All) > General Views: 11161 -:- Recommendations : 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 List
- 18
- 19
- 20
[Chapter Nineteen: Serenade]
[�Miss
Attle, how pleasant to see you. What
brings you about?�]
Bloody
hell, Maren spun about and plastered a smile upon her face, �And how pleasant
to see you, Commodore Norrington.� She
left it at that, hoping that Norrington was only exchanging polite pleasantries
and not actually interested in further conversation. No such luck.
�It is a
fine day,� oddly, he stated this without studying the sky; instead, his pale
eyes remained warmly fixed on Maren.
��Tis,�
conceding, Maren self-consciously noticed how far away she was addressing
Norrington and with one last mournful glance at the alley that concealed Jack
Sparrow, she walked to the Commodore, �I want�d to take a gander at Mister
Turner�s smithy, but he be�busy at the moment, so I was just headin� back to
the house, excuse me.� Maren made to
leave, but Norrington reflexively stepped into her path and was immediately
embarrassed with his own boldness.
Flustering
gracefully, he leaned his head down and spoke in a hushed voice, �I must
confess, Miss Attle, I was rather hoping-er, that is, I [thought] that perhaps
you had come to seek my proposal of a tour.�
�Oh,�
besides a covert twitch in the corner of her right eye, Maren gave no sign of
displeasure, �Aye, right, well�that would be [one] o� the reasons for me
venture to town,� Norrington�s expression brightened from sheepish to genuine
delight, �but seein� hows yer occupi�d, [commodorin�] and all.� Shrugging and smiling, she gestured to the
other Redcoats who were listening intently to their conversation and, after
realizing they had been caught eavesdropping, busied themselves with examining
their shoes, fingernails, and clouds thoroughly. A cold glance from Norrington and the men retreated a few modest
steps away.
�Well, as
it happens,� he said to Maren, �being a Commodore has certain compensative
advantages, such as the leisure to retire for a day, in order to escort
prestigious visitors through the port.�
Prestigious? Maren had been called a lot of things, the
more colorful phrases usually around closing time at the pub, but certainly
[prestigious] had never been among them.
Actually, the Commodore could be very charming when he set his mind to
it�but what about the seductive pirate smoldering in the alley, waiting
impatiently for her return? What to do,
what to do? Then Jack gave her a hint.
Suddenly, a
streak of metallic light flew, unnoticed, behind Norrington�s head and a nasty,
jagged dagger was embedded into a bakery wall, splintering the wood, not a few
inches from the fortunate man�s skull.
Maren stared, wide-eyed, at the weapon still thrumming quietly. Apparently �subtlety� was not in Jack�s
vocabulary.
Something,
perhaps the rush of the knife streaking by or Maren�s panicked glance over his
shoulder, made Norrington start to turn-
-lurching
forward and effectively distracting him from seeing Jack�s �warning�, Maren
abruptly grabbed Norrington�s forearm and tugged, �What a relief! �Cause I got meself a confession o� me own,
Commodore. Visitin� Will at the smithy
was just an excuse, I truly was lookin� for ye in hopes ye might not be too
busy. So how �bout we start that tour
on the here and now, eh?� She tilted
her face up to him, for he was much taller then either Jack or Will, and
grinned coyly, a searing expression of happy innocence that she was perfectly
aware could melt men like stone.
For an
instant, the Commodore lost his voice and juvenilely gulped, but quickly
recovered his concise and controlled demeanor, �Gladly, an excellent
notion. Permit me a moment to instruct
my officers and then we shall be off.�
Nodding his head awkwardly, Norrington spun about on his heel and strode
to the soldiers conversing bored across the street.
Quickly,
Maren wretched the dagger from the wooden building and tossed it haphazardly
into the alley, where she saw Jack glowering at her, one hand on hip, the other
thrumming irately upon a stonewall. Her
brow knotted and she mouthed, �Sorry!� to him soundlessly, before straightening
up to appear the picture of innocence as Norrington approached her again, his
arm procured.
* * *
�Mercy�s
sake Jack sit down your pacing is making me dizzy,� and as Elizabeth nabbed
William�s bishop, he added sourly, �as well as lose, apparently.� Chess between the Turners was always
one-sided, William simply didn�t have the mind for it. His terms of thinking were straightforward
and blunt, �take what you can, give nothing back� sort of strategy, which was
fine for pirates and blacksmiths, or pirate blacksmiths even, but not, alas,
for chess. Elizabeth sympathetically
stroked Will�s hand while he pouted, earning her a warm wink that tingled her
spine.
�Aye, and
yer lovey-dovey cuddlin�s are makin� me sick,� Jack snapped half-heartedly over
his shoulder, while he checked the window again, �Where in bloody hell is she?�
�She�ll be
back soon, I�m sure,� Elizabeth pursed her lips and slightly shook her head as
William laid a timid finger on his last knight, questioning her with his
pleading eyes for a merciful hint. She
conceded sweetly, muttering, �Try the rook.�
Brightening, Will examined his chess pieces with renewed vigor.
�Aye
[soon], that�s what ye said at lunch, then �gain at tea, so now it be supper
and still ye say [soon]!� growling, Jack bitterly batted the curtains that had
fallen into his view.
�Jealously
is as cruel as the grave,� Will recited in sing-song, ignoring the derogative
snort from Jack.
�Moi? Jealous?� a decorated hand laid out upon his
chest, Jack peered blurrily at Will as if this concept was as foreign as
chopsticks, �O� what? So, some
aristocratic stick-up-the-arse officer of respectable standin� and hypocritical
standards swishes �way me newest acquisition, who may I add, has curves that
could make a whirlin� dervish woozy and appears to a man like a mermaid to a
nine-month-voyaged sailor. All that
�side, ye forget somethin� young Turner�I�m Cap�n Jack Sparrow, savvy? Jealousy be for lesser, more insecure
mortals, never for the likes o� me.�
�Ah, yes of
course,� Will smirked down at the chessboard, �How silly of me.�
�But if he
touches her, I�ll have his balls for a trophy,� muttering under his breath,
Jack added while he continued his pacing.
�Well
blessedly lucky for Commodore Norrington�s testicles,� gesturing with one of
Will�s defeated pawns, Elizabeth nodded towards the window, �because Maren has
returned to us seemingly unmolested.�
Sure enough, the medium in her grey dress and hair pinned high was
walking leisurely across the grounds.
Immediately,
Jack flew like his namesake to the sofa and laid down, nonchalantly perching
his hat over his face and holding in loose grip a tumbler of scotch at his
side, though they�ve yet to witness him actually drink from it. Exchanging exasperated looks, Will and
Elizabeth continued their game.
* * *
�I be such
a dunce!� Maren slapped her head playfully without relinquishing her hold on
Norrington� elbow, �Here I am, babblin� the day �way and never thought to
question on poor Lieutenant Upton. How
be his leg? Pain�s not too soar, is
it?�
�[Ca�n be
as painful as his singin�,]� the ghost was chasing squirrels out of their
nests, entertaining herself with their irate squeaks, the two living persons
having bored her to tears.
Norrington
chuckled, a sweet sound that was becoming very endearing to Maren�s ears, �I
daresay he suffers more from his hangover then from his broken leg, at least
that was his state of mind this morning.�
Indeed,
morning had been a long while ago and now the Caribbean sun was tingeing
orange, sinking fast towards the horizon.
Maren could not recall ever being treated like Norrington treated her
that day. He was polite and courteous,
enthralled with her every brassy opinion and scathing antic she had to offer to
their discussion, so attentive, so amenable.
During the
tour, Norrington had shown her every ship in the harbor, every armament, and
all the barracks before he could stall no longer, mainly because he had nothing
more to show, having explained every item to the fullest from the sails to the
cobblestones, and regretfully offered to escort Maren home.
So here
they were, the Commodore and a peasant barmaid, meandering slowly to the Turner
manor, which loomed brightly at them.
They floundered in idle chitchat before lulling at the front gate. Norrington broke the silence, �Thank you for
your company this day, Miss Attle, I have thoroughly enjoyed myself.�
�Thank ye
for the tour, Commodore Norrington,� she extended her hand and Norrington
hurriedly clasped it between his two earnest palms, startling Maren slightly
when his index fingers began subtlety stroking her wrist.
�Perhaps
you might bless me with your company for dinner at the Officer�s Mess
tomorrow,� he cleared his throat innocently and stared fixedly at her small
hand still held in his, �then perhaps, if you would be so kind�tea afterwards
at my home.�
A stinging
guilt smarted against her heart when Maren realized she would not be there
tomorrow night. She would be on the
Black Pearl over miles of blue ocean, far away from the Commodore and Port
Royal. Yet, she gathered his
inexplicable nervousness and almost schoolboy shyness and couldn�t bring
herself to refuse him, at least verbally.
Let him be disappointed tomorrow, not today, �Why I would be honor�d
sir, goodnight to ye.�
�Good
evening Miss Attle,� releasing a shaky, or perhaps it was excited, breath,
Norrington pecked the lightest of kisses upon the back of her hand before
turning about like the soldier he was and marching off. Maren gazed after him and for this reason he
held his head that much higher as he disappeared down the road.
�[Finally!]�
Kristy stretched next to Maren, watching the retreating figure of the
Commodore, �[God damn ifen that bugger never shuts the hell up! Now let�s go find Jack and talk dirty to
him!]�
�Pervert,�
Maren replied, but with no real conviction.
* * *
The door
creaked ominously as Maren strode confidently inside. Noticing the Turners and an apparently napping Jack in the
sitting room, she quickly rushed over to them, beaming, �Hallo, hope I did�n
keep anyone waitin�?�
�Hello
Maren, no not at all.�
�Indeed,
you are right in time for supper,� Elizabeth and Will smiled up at her from
their seats at the chessboard, but Jack just feigned a loud snore from the
couch. Three sets of eyes rolled in his
direction, four including the deceased�s pair.
�[Fakin�
it,]� Kristy snipped, somewhat an expert on the matter.
�Jack,�
hissing meaningfully and with only a smidgeon of sarcasm, Will spiked his
queen, which had been massacred by Elizabeth�s bishop, at the Captain. It bounced harmlessly off of his stomach,
�Maren�s back.�
�Wha-oh,�
Jack yawned passively and smacked his lips, lifting his hat from his face to
dispassionately glance at Maren once over, �Back already?�
�Aye,� the
sight of Jack sprawled out on the sofa brought exhilarating reminders of their
tussle in the alley when he was so reclined upon the cobblestones with Maren
atop him, somehow Maren managed to swallow her blush. Some lady she turned out to be!
�Wish ye could�ve been there Jack,� Maren crossed to him, nudging his
shoulder over so she could sit next to him,
�Suppose ye would�ve got more out o� it then me, I�m not much when it
comes to nautical matters.�
�So ye had
a miserable time then,� Jack was glowing, decidedly perked up and clasping his
fingers under his chin in a scenic mock sympathy. He placed a hand upon her knee.
�Did�n say
that exactly,� coyly, she patted her hair, permitting the tiniest grin to taunt
Jack, �For what the day lack�d in subject, Commodore Norrington more then made
up for in company, such a gentlemen he is.
Knows how to treat a lady correct-like.� She removed his hand from her knee.
Jack [frowned], �Why? Was there a lady there?�
�[Well aint he a right pissy bastard?]�
�Will,�
Elizabeth cut in quickly, tugging Will up and away from the sitting room, �Come
check dinner with me.� The tension in
the air was accelerating in intensity, whether it was sexual in nature or
temperamental, the Turners wisely conducted a hasty exit before the inevitable
eruption.
�And just
what was that suppos�d to mean?!�
�And just
what were ye doin� all damn day?�
�On the
port, with a man that treat�d me with respect I might add!�
�So now [I]
do�n respect ye?�
�Not like
the Commodore.�
�Oh,
really?�
�Aye, he
managed to converse with me the entire day without once insinuatin� any
intentions o� crawlin� up me skirt!�
�To Hell he
did�n!� Jack scowled, �How can ye have surviv�d so long in Tortuga and still be
so bloody stupid?� He appeared
genuinely thoughtful for a moment, �Suppose ye did�n run into too many gents
though��
�What�s yer
meanin�?�
�Men be
men, Maren, all the same regardless of birth.
There be but one difference,� here he raised a finger right between her
eyes, face crooked close to hers (Jack was under the impression that �personal
body space� was something that happened to other people), �between a gentleman
and the common man and that is [vocabulary].
Look-see here, if I�m keen on copulatin� with ye, which o� course I
am.� Hands dancing, Jack illustrated
his smug point while Maren glowered, �I say it nice and plain-like, �Let�s
fuck.� There, straight and to the
point, but will a gentleman be so honest?
Hell no, he�ll dance �round the topic all flowery and polite, �til he�s
more dishonest with his etiquette then I am true with me bluntness. They use silly deceptive lines like �come to
me house for tea,� o� some such nonsense.�
Her ears
perked, �Tea?� she asked suspiciously.
�Aye,
tea-,� Jack suddenly caught the sharpness to her question, �Jesus Christ,
woman, he ask�d ye did�n he? And ye
actually believ�d it?� shaking his head in martyrdom, he tsk-ed, �This be
reflectin� quite poorly on me powers o� seduction. I�ve done everythin� but tie ye to the bloody bed and what do ye
almost fall for? �Come to me house for
tea with a dash of sodomy?� Sweet
siren, that�s pathetic.�
�But that�s
not how-,� she flustered, �-he did�n mean�I�m sure-,� a few more moments of
dumb denial, before crude acceptance, �Why that son o� a bitch.�
They sat
silently after barking at each other, heads turned accusingly, face to
face. A noticeable scowl marred Maren�s
features, but Jack stayed his expression into that frustrating smirk of
patronizing indifference. He was
reclined, her posture was stark straight.
He was breathing slow deliberate breathes, her breathing was shallow and
quick. His eyes were slitted, peering
up at her through a careless sliver of brown, her eyes were wide and
reflective. Above all else, they were
very, very quiet.
What
finally broke this strange tableau is a matter of debate, for several small
details happened at once. A flicker of
the setting sun caught Maren�s flaxen hair and lit it like a golden hallow. A tiny silver trinket in Jack�s hair shifted
to rest at the pulse point on his proud throat. The expanse of Maren�s demanding cleavage pulled a seam in her
bodice too taunt. The rings on Jack�s
hands glinted, sparkling playfully in accent to his agile hands.
Whatever the cause, something
spurred them like a starting shot to embrace.
They jolted forward, hands grabbing
arms, shoulders, thighs, wherever purchase could be found. The kiss was desperate as an orphan in
Mother�s arms, pleadingly passionate.
Tastes of rum and ocean lapped at their tongues and crashed upon their
teeth. Parting only for a scarce
moment, they angled their heads to better assault and explore the other�s
welcoming mouth. It was a frenzy of
prurience.
But eventually the ardor eased
down, as if that panicked possession of libido was just an assurance, evidence
of a claim that Maren had succumbed to, that the episode in the alley wasn�t
just a fleeting dream. Thus assured,
the kisses gradually calmed, now gentle presses to the lips and long languid
strokes with the tongues. Jack had her
head cupped reverently in his palms, stroking the curve of her cheeks with his
thumbs. ��Tis time Maren,� Jack
punctuated his pauses with fervent kisses to her face, this one between her
brows, �indeed, decidedly the opportune moment,� a peck on her eyelid, �to
escort ye, with utmost haste,� the other eyelid was granted the same adoration,
�upstairs to bed,� her nose now, �where I swear to immediately and
indulgently,� this time, he nipped at her chin, �proceed with makin� sweet
fanatical love to ye.� Wrapping his
powerful arms around her waist, Jack pressed his hard body against Maren�s
compliant one, �Savvy?�
A heavy sigh soaked in lament
distracted Maren to glance over Jack�s shoulder at the ghost that was hovering
earnestly behind them, �[Gawd, I�d give me teeth for a good lay right now.]�
�Kristy,� out loud, Maren snipped,
causing Jack to follow her gaze and peer over his shoulder warily, �a littl�
[privacy] please.� Then Maren�s eyes
fell upon Jack�s profile and either the angle or the light made him appear
somewhat younger. She was reminded of
her dream last night, the image of Jack many years ago, and shuddered as the
other gory aspects of her nightmare rekindled.
�[Bugger privacy, more action!]�
the wraith crossed her arms in resolution.
Slightly baffled, Jack felt Maren
stiffen in his arms and heard her whisper tiredly, almost accusingly, �Jack�why
did�n ye tell me Barbossa was Cap�n Romulus� cabin boy?�
Now it was Maren�s turn to feel
Jack tense around her, dropping his arms and peering down at her
cautiously. �Who told ye that, I
wonder?� his smoky voice was equally quiet, also tinged with accusation.
Sarcastically, she lashed out at
him, �Who ye think, eh?�
�Maren, apparently I fail�d to make
meself clear the first time about,� Jack grinned at her, but the smile didn�t
touch his eyes. Those brown orbs
remained steadfast and suddenly distant, �Anyone dead �round, me stays dead,
especially Barbossa.�
�It�s not like I meant to,�
defensive, Maren turned away from him, �the dreams always come after a
possession. Not the actual haunt, mind
ye, just the memories-the [shadows] o� them bein� purged from me head.�
�So that�s how ye know? Ye dream�d that bastard�s memories?�
�Aye,� raising her pretty face,
Maren sighed, �I saw Cap�n Romulus and the Alpha, even Barbossa as a slip o� a
boy.� This news, in spite of the
original deception or �omission of truth� as Jack would call it, pleased Jack
instead of shamed him. Maren became
frustrated, couldn�t he at least pretend to be guilty? �I saw�Bill, too and what they did to him.�
Any sign of amusement upon Jack�s
exotic features abruptly vanished.
�I saw the Aztec gold and the
curse,� continuing, she was oblivious to the dark continence casting over Jack,
�I felt the hatred, the greed like it was me own.� Mournfully, she finally glanced at him and set her comforting
hand upon his handsome cheek, �I saw the mutiny, Jack, at least the maroonin�
part o� it.�
Callously, he batted her hand and swiftly stood to
take a few modest steps away, �That�s hardly a particular moment o� me life
that I would care to elaborate on. �Tis
also, most definitely, none o� yer business whatsoever.�
For a moment, Maren was too shocked
by his uncharacteristic cold manner to speak.
Where was this attitude coming from?
By all rights, Maren was the party wronged here, Jack having neglected
to inform on Barbossa�s origins. But
she assessed the slight frown, the cross of his brows, and the rigid posture of
his back before her heart melted in the realization that Jack, relaxed and
cool, aloof yet controlling, was [sensitive] about the subject in
question. And why shouldn�t he be? The poor man had his trust betrayed and his
heart, the Black Pearl, torn away from him!
The poor tragic man! How well he
hid his hurt from the cruel world! �Oh,
Jack,� Maren cooed breathlessly, tugging at his elbow and more entranced by him
then ever before, even when he was seducing her, �I be so, so sorry.�
Snorting, he shook her off, �Save
yer pity, lass, �cause I�ll have none o� it and grant me yer obedience
insteady.� The same smirk that failed
to touch his eyes formed as he literally spoke down to her, �Consider this yer
first official order from yer Cap�n and heed it, keep yer powers steered clear
o� me past, savvy? No more spyin� on me
personal history and if I ever, [ever] see Barbossa �gain�well I�ll be very
upset.� He held her chin far more
tenderly then his voice entailed, �Learn to control that sense o� yers, sweet
witch, �fore it gets ye in trouble.�
�[witch]�he actually said it.
�[By Lucifer�s wank, Pet,]� Kristy
cried out, �[he did�n mean it!]�
�Did�n he?� any desire to console
Sparrow drained away as she conversed in silence, ��[witch], I should�ve
known. Some things do�n change, I be a
daft stupid git to reckon any different��
The ghost touched her shoulder with
two phantom fingers that sunk right through, �[He does�n know. How could he know what �tis to be a
medium?]�
Jack, confidant his point had been
made, now noticed the glistening tears pooling in her blue eyes, staring downward
at his boots. Damn it all, why were
women so bleedin� fragile? Reaching out
to comfort her, Jack regretted both prospects of hurting the young barmaid and
perhaps killing the certainty of getting laid that night, but was interrupted
by Elizabeth who entered the sitting room warily, �Supper is ready.� She sensed the apprehension in the air and
cast an accusatory glare at Jack who shrugged innocently.
�Beggin� yer pardon, Elizabeth,�
blurting out, Maren attempted to smile casually, though her grin was forced and
piteous in its obvious counterfeit, �but I�ve come down with a wick�d mean
headache.� She raised her hand to her
temple as if the proof was there to see, �So, I�ll just be retirin� a tad early
tonight, me apologies.� Inadvertently,
a single tear slipped along Maren�s cheek and she covered it embarrassed before
scurrying out of the sitting room and up the stairs. �Good night,� she called out over her shoulder.
�Wait a moment sweetheart,� raising
his smoky drawl, Jack bellowed after her, �Is this the kind o� contagious
headache where I conveniently succumb to the same ailment in say five minutes
time, then discreetly retire, followin� ye to yer welcomin� bedroom in order to
recuperate? O� is this the �sod off�
sort o� headache?� All that answered
the pirate was the ominous slam of a door in the distant upstairs, �That would
be a �sod off�.�
�[Shit, ye really fuck�d this one
up, Jack Sparrow,]� Kristy snorted, illustrating rude gestures with her hands,
�[Ye priest suckin� pecker, do�n got the sense God gave plague harborin�
vermin.]�
�Dare I inquire as to what that was
about?� Elizabeth asked sharply.
�Not entirely sure meself,� chewing
on his cheek, Jack stared up the stairs thoughtfully. The chances of a rut were quickly dissipating and desperate
measures would have to be taken to ensure a night of passionate bliss.
* * *
The knob
jiggled, shaking to and fro, but the chair wedged firmly under the handle kept
the door from budging.
From her
place on the bed, Maren watched the doorknob apprehensively. The hour was late and the room was eerily
dark, though the moonlight was exceptionally bright outside. After retreating from Jack, she had
immediately locked herself in her room and submitted to tearful fits of
self-pity and anger. Luckily, Kristy
was at service to offer soothing reassurances and heartfelt support, so
eventually Maren�s tantrum diminished from self-pity and wrath, to a semi-pissy
sort of resentment. Whereby, the
temperamental barmaid secured the chair under the doorknob and readied herself
for bed. She lay awake for two hours,
dimly disappointed that no one came to check upon her, listening to clutters
and thumps of the household retiring for the night. Then there was about ten minutes of serene silence-
-before
telltale booted footsteps walked curtly to her door. Straining her ears, Maren heard the tiniest [clinks] of what she
imagined to be a lock pick at work. A
louder [clank] that was by no means her overactive imagination sounded,
signifying the surrender of the lock.
And now the doorknob was jiggling�
Maren
braced herself should he suddenly kick in the door, preparing a plethora of
curses and a raging tirade that would reduce the pirate to the sniveling brat
he was! She also rallied herself for a
more subtle assault, should Jack attempt to seduce her or (sweet Jesus please)
if he should start [begging], Maren would deliver a scathing rejection to
emasculate him for the extent of his indecent existence. Admittedly, Maren was embellishing her
abilities to quarrel a tad, but she [was] really pissed. Anxious and waiting in anticipation, she
listened for Jack�s next move.
There was a
tentative knock, quieter then the hammering of Maren�s heart.
Absolute
silence.
The booted
footsteps walked away.
That was
it? No breaking the door into
splinters, no demands, no pinning her to the bed? No seduction? No
pleading, imploring, or wooing? The
bastard didn�t even raise his voice-hell, he didn�t even bother to
[speak]! Just a knock? One damnable knock!? Frustrated, Maren growled ferociously while
she threw a pillow at the door. What
happened to all the talk of �goddess form� and �sensual potency�? Why hadn�t he tried harder to claim her, the
�living aphrodisiac�? Didn�t he want
her? Apparently not�
Feeling
bitter tears sting her eyes, Maren hid her face under her pillows, �I hate ye
Jack Sparrow!� Ultimately exhausted in
body and soul, she surrendered to sleep.
* * *
Half an
hour of precious slumber passed before Maren was startled awake by a
particularly rambunctious chorus sung by a singularly unique bird-
�[How
lovely is the Ma�ay time,
All hearts
with joy it fills.
�um,
somethin� or other somethin��
�la, la,
la-it TRILLS!]�
The song
was being belted, or at least the parts that could be remembered properly,
outside the window, right outside the window, but how could that be considering
Maren was on the second floor? Throwing
off the blankets, she followed her ears to investigate. Meanwhile Jack, having finally recalled the
next verse, sang out louder-
�[And when
she ask�d me if me love
Was true and would abide?
Till death shall come between us
I re--plied!]�
Cautiously, Maren approached the
window and what she beheld made her throw open the panes with haste. Jack was perched precariously on a tree
limb, perfectly level with her windowsill, draped like a sleek jaguar upon his
stomach, utterly relaxed! One arm
dangled, a bottle of brandy loosely clasped in it. He wore his hat and coat and for all the world looked absolutely
at home in the treetops just like his namesake, however there was a rather
large pinkish flower tucked comically into his hair that looked distinctly out
of place.
�What the devil are ye doin�?!� she
stuck her head out into the crisp night sky.
Inhaling a mighty breath to
commence his exuberant performance, Jack halted to blink significantly at Maren
and wave vaguely behind her, �There be a chair blockin� yer door.� He stated helpfully as if this fact had
escaped Maren�s attention.
�I know that Jack.�
�Why?� childishly, he whined.
�I put it there.�
Studying her a moment longer, Jack
shrugged and switched to another song, this one deeper as to flatter his voice-
[Apple, apple fallen in the water,
By the stream I kiss�d the miller�s
daughter.
By the stream I kiss�d the
mi--ller�s daugh--ter!]
Maren rose her own voice to cut off
the incessant bellowing, though the bellowing was becoming suspiciously more
tuned and timed�almost akin to genuine singing, �[Why] are ye out there Jack?�
�I�m serenadin� ye,� he slurred and
spread out his arms, insinuating how obvious the answer should be, �So shut up
and be serenad�d, damn it.�
�Yer drunk,� she said.
�Most likely,� conceding, he
proffered the mostly empty bottle to her sight, �So how ye fancy me ballads,
eh? Somthin� more melancholy
perhaps?� Before she could deny him,
Jack sang out-
�[Weep, weep, weep oh mine eyes,
And cease not, and cease not!
Alas these yer spring tides
Methinks increase not.]�
�Yuck,� Maren shuddered, �I do�n
like that one, it be too sad.�
�How �bout me pirate song?� cheery
with an inebriated grin, Jack perked up, �That one�s happy.�
�If ye dare, I�m closin� this
window and returnin� to bed,� quickly Maren warned, smiling warm and
flirtatious back at him. All right,
Maren good play along, �If I�m to be serenad�d, where�s the poetry then?�
�Ah,� he sat up, raising his bottle
for a hearty drink, �Aye poetry, I can accommodate that.� Theatrically clearing his throat, Jack held
out one ringed hand to gracefully indicate Maren as he recited, ��O, divine woman! All that thy seasons, O� Nature, bring is
fruit for me! All things come from
thee, subsist in thee, go back to thee.�
That�s Marcus Aurelius, that is.�
She bit her lip and flushed, �I�m
not sure who that is, but it sure sound�d somethin� wonderful!�
Poetry, Jack mused in victory,
works every time, �Some Shakespeare then?
�Where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear; When little fears
grow great, great love grows there.��
�That one�s nice,� Maren shyly cast
her eyes downward in embarrassed modesty, a wee close to home that one.
�Far beyond the greed o� lust, o�
the hunger o� flesh, there breathes the livin� desire to capture ye upon my
eyes forever; Sweet obsession! As I
once and oft beheld the dark waters by moonlight, fathomless ebony caress�d by
sparklin� silver, so ye are to my heart the sea, wutherin� my soul to oblivion
before yer sheer majesty�vast, beautiful, heavenly.�
Her mouth dry and heart aching,
Maren suppressed a shiver, �That be me favorite so far, who�s it by?�
�Why one Cap�n Jack Sparrow o�
course,� he bowed as he sat, saluting with his bottle of brandy, �Inspir�d on
the moment, thank ye very much.�
Maren�s blood began to race and a
terrible heat surged through her skin.
That lovely poem was about her?
The beating of her heart was desperately rapid. At that instant, Maren wished nothing more
then to tell Jack she loved him, to confess, to swear her undying devotion and
adoration to him alone or something equally dramatic, but she could not find
her voice. Instead, she gaped, rather
ungracefully, like a drowning fish.
�So Maren-,� attempting to stand
up, Jack suddenly slipped, his boots loosing purchase on the wobbling tree
branch. There was a terrible moment
that Jack was suspended freely in the air, falling, yet luck or agility
miraculously saved him. He grabbed the
very branch he had fallen from, catching himself with one slippery palm, while
his forsaken bottle crashed to the ground and broke with a shatter on twisted
roots below. Thus he remained a second
to catch his breath, hanging and swinging in the breeze like an enormous
weathervane.
Maren found her voice! �Jack!� she shrieked at him and he glared up
at her, �Get down from there �fore ye break yer bloody neck!�
�Ahh!� childishly, he cooed at her,
�Are ye worried? Ye forget somehtin�
luv, I�m Cap�n Jack Sparrow! I�ve got
everythin� under control, no worries.
Look-see Maren, one hand!� and waved his free hand about proudly.
�Not funny,� she spat, �Now get
down!�
�Why? Ye scar�d I�m goin� to hurt meself? O� kill meself?� Jack began swinging his body back and forth,
�Would ye cry for me, sweetheart?� Hand
over hand, Jack �walked� along the branch towards Maren, the swaying of his
body propelling him forward, �Eh, Maren?
Would ye weep for ole Jack at his funeral?�
�Nay,� Maren barked back, �but I�ll
piss on yer grave insteady!�
Grunting, Jack grasped another
branch that stretched closer to the windowsill. �Some men,� he panted, but in no way fatigued, as he approached,
�might consider that a turn on.� This
limb was thinner then the other and trembled ominously with each shift of his
weight.
�Jack please!�
By now he was ignoring her,
concentrating on the task at hand. He
had arrived at the end of his bough and a good four feet separated him from his
destination. Aye, he should clear that
nice and simple. Totally disregarding
the haphazard bend in the branch, Jack rocked himself to and fro and gained a
steady momentum. Had it been another,
safer situation, Maren would have laughed at Jack�s focused expression, biting
his lip, nostrils flaring, and brow crossed, he was truly adorable! Then all at once, at the height of his
pendulum swing, Jack let go.
Swiftly, Maren dodged the flying
pirate, crying out in shocked surprise as he deftly somersaulted through the
window, a speedy streak of beads, leather, and ocean. Unfortunately, Jack�s graceful acrobatic performance was far
easier executed then finished. He
crashed and sprawled out in an awkward tumble, sliding to a halt on his stomach
against the cold wood floor, his hat fallen next to him. He paused a second and propped himself up on
his elbows. �Tada,� his smoky voice
spoke seemingly bored.
Guardedly, a breathless Maren
cocked her head to study the reclined pirate, �Are ye hurt?�
Jack presented an exaggerated mime
of checking himself over. �Nothin�s
broken,� he shrugged up at her.
�Splendid,� any pleasantries
vanished from her face, �Then mosey yer flyin� arse out o� me room right now!�
�Wait, wait!� springing to his
knees, Jack began rummaging through his coat pockets, �I got somethin� for ye�somewhere
round here�blast! Where the bugger is
that stupid flower?�
�The one in your hair?� she asked
and crossed her arms.
Perplexed, he touched his matted
braids and dreadlocks, his fingers locating the garish pink bud. Immediately, the confusion dissipated and
his features alit cheerfully, �Aye that�s it.�
And then, Lord have mercy, he [pouted], bottom lip sticking out, face
turned downward, and eyes blinking innocently to peer shyly up at her, �For
ye.� Jack proffered the flower out to
her, still on bended knees.
Maren stared at the tropical bud a
long while, striving to suppress the sentimentality in her that had been truly
moved by Jack�s humble and attentive gift.
After all, it was just a silly little present from a notoriously drunken
lecher, wasn�t it? It couldn�t [mean]
anything. Yet, the significance of this
favor was quickly becoming apparent to Maren�s increasingly racing thoughts. She began to perspire, even though the night
air was cool. He was offering her
something, was she willing to reciprocate?
She didn�t dare elaborate further on those thoughts or she surely would
have run away. Maren stuck her courage
to the sticking place.
So it had all come down to
this. Take the flower or leave it?
�Would-,� Maren stilled her hand,
hovering over the flower�s silk petals, ��would ye be gentle?� and added
quickly, �And patient?�
And there it was! Jack had finally won, but he decided not to
sit comfortable on his laurels just yet.
Laying his free hand upon his chest, he smiled, graciously honest, �By
the Black Pearl, I swear me touch will be tender and trust�d o� may I never
sail fair ocean �gain.�
What the Hell?
Maren took the flower�
�Jack
stood up.
- 18
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The Haunting Place