Pirates of the Caribbean, Trapped Together, falling in love
His first delivery went better than Will had expected it would.
It had been a couple of days now since he started his apprenticeship at the town’s blacksmith, but despite the lack of earlier experience, Mr Brown talked to him and gave him orders as if Will was raised amongst forges with a hammer in one hand and a tong in the other. From the moment the man laid eyes on him, Will was tossed around the site, briefly instructed, learning techniques, oiling equipment, and organizing materials. Mr Brown’s malcontent demeanour pointed to his irritation with the idea of having another person, a young boy at that, getting in his way; though at the same time, he seemed very quick to give away all of the more annoying, minuscule tasks, which gave him more time to sit with his legs crossed on the tabletop, a glass filled with liquor in hand.
Today, was the first time Will was to leave the workshop.
“Are you sure it’s a good idea, sir?” he asked. “I’m not yet that familiar with the town. I worry I’ll get lost.”
“Bollocks.” Mr Brown didn’t take the hat off of his face when he said it, his voice still filled with the remnants of his nap. “Just follow my directions. You’re taking this parcel to Mister CecilCartwright’s shop, remember that name, will you, boy? If you do, you can ask anybody if you get lost and they’ll guide you, it’s a well-known shop. You’ll be just fine.”
And he was. The way was simple, and Mr Cartwright was nice. Now the only thing left was to get back to—
“Move, boy, move!” Will felt himself get pushed off to the side and, in a rather quick and difficult-to-comprehend turn of events consisting of trouble regaining his balance and far-away cries of many people, he fell through the small door of the adjacent cellar and plunged into its dirty floor. As he turned, attempting to re-focus his eyes in the face of the sudden, overpowering darkness, he watched a silhouette of a man standing next to him shove the door shut behind them. So I’m meant to die after all, he then thought to himself, but neither one of them moved. Motionless, Will listened to the steps of at least a dozen of men running by them on the other side, and from the many words they were shouting he could make out the one most reoccurring: sparrow.
It was a matter of moment before the little backstreet was silent again.
“Well, boy,” said the man, his voice oozing drunkenness similar to Mr Brown’s. “Twas nice knowing you.” He then attempted to yank open the door.
Nothing.
He tried again.
For some reason, the door was stuck.
“Hm,” he said. “Did not consider that.”
It was nearly pitch black around them, the only source of light being singular specks of light seeping through the door’s little holes. With their help, Will could see the man was around thirty or forty years old, with long, dreadlocked hair and peculiar clothing, seamen-like, but not exactly.
“You’re a pirate. Jack Sparrow.” It was meant to be a question, but as he asked it, Will realized it was true. “Those were royal soldiers running after you.”
“Indeed I am – and indeed they were.”
“Are you going to kill me?”
“Do you want me to?” Sparrow laughed. Will didn’t feel like doing so. “Don’t worry, kid, you’re not worth the effort. Too little gold on ya. I have the royal guard after me, don’t need to add your parents to the list.”
“I don’t have parents.” He didn’t know why he said it. Why would a pirate care? But the statement was out there and, for some reason, it felt a bit less heavy than usual.
“Shame. Your girl then.”
“I don’t – I’m eleven,” said Will, but hesitated at the image of Elizabeth Swann appearing loud and clear in his head. Their encounter was only brief, but she saved him, and after they got back to the shore, Miss Elizabeth made sure to say goodbye to him before she left. Besides, she was certainly the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.
“Ohh, I see. So who is she?”
“There’s no she.” Will felt his face flush and for a second he was very glad the cellar was completely swollen in the dark.
“Right.”
A sudden commotion outside caused both of their heads to turn. When the door opened, there was a chunky, poorly clothed man standing on the pavement.
“Took you long enough,” said Sparrow. The man reached out his arm and helped him get out.
“Be glad I came!” replied the man, though the smile on his face was kind, at least for a pirate.
“See ya, boy.” Sparrow looked down on Will who still stood amongst the shadows. “Good luck with the lady.”
And just like that, they left.