Chapter Six
"You know," I told Marcela and Jonathan, late at night. We were gambling, and I was winning. As usual. They weren't as adept as cheating as I, and they were drunk. "I really love your hair, Marcee."
"Ye do?" She had the scurviest accent I'd ever heard come out of a pirate's mouth. "I a-reckon yer a-lyin' t' distrac' me, Jackie."
I smiled, leaning forward and slipping a gold coin up my sleeve from her pile as I went. The Pearl creaked beneath me; I imagined it as laughter. "I would never. Your turn, Jonathan."
He glanced at his cards before grinning and lying them flat. "Pay up, ladies!" He called, taking the shiny treasures from the center of the circle our bodies formed.
"No!" I shrieked, slipping more into my coat pockets as he took what I had not stolen away.
Marcela moaned and threw her cards at him, rubbing her temples. "Gimme."
He passed her the rum and she sipped contently, eyes sliding to me to gauge my reaction.
I raised my eyebrows at her. Yes, Marcee?
She stuck her tongue out at me.
I stood, careful to not jingle the change in my pockets. "I'll be going, then," I said. "I planned on pranking Eric, so I need some time before he wakes up."
Jonathan looked up from where he was counting his winnings. "What ya gonna do?"
I shrugged. "I'm gonna stick his hand in water. Nothing too special."
They cracked up; the last time I'd done that, it had been to Parker, and it had been hilarious.
"See ya," I waved, winking, before sliding down the ratlines. As I left I heard them begin to bicker. Marcee and Jonathan had the tendency to either go for each other's throats or snog, whichever they preferred in that moment.
After sneaking to my cabin and grabbing the necessary materials, and waving to Nina at the helm, I slunk below decks.
I shushed anyone I woke up. I did this often. People slept in fear. Wha-ha-ha.
The door creaked as I opened it, as usual. It didn't wake Eric up, as usual. If the Pearl crashed he wouldn't wake up.
I grinned, and took his hand.
My plans backfired when I was yanked forward and suddenly he was on top of me; a knife was at my throat and the water was spilled onto both of us.
"Eric!" I wheezed.
He blinked. Then he kneed my stomach -- I curled in on myself and groaned -- and sat back, allowing me to sit up.
"You idiot," We both said. I glared at him.
"You're not supposed to wake up!" I said with a whine, shivering. Cool air and water. Not a great combination.
He gave me a look. "You're not supposed to come into my room at midnight, Jacqueline."
I winced. "I -- well. Sorry. Not really but courtesy, you know, love."
"I know." He rolled his eyes. "Get up, I have a towel somewhere."
I did, sheepishly. "We'll be at our destination by noon tomorrow, according to my calculations, anyway." I commented.
"My calculations, you mean?"
"And mine!" I insisted, as I accepted the towel he threw at me.
"Fine then, take the credit." I tossed it at his face and he tossed it on his bed. "What exactly will we do when we get there?"
I shrugged, brushing through my hair with my fingers. "Investigate. I think personally that we'll find Taylor Sutcliff there, and if we do, I shall be just as suspicious of him as you are."
He smiled dryly. "Your tone suggests an insult."
I grinned. "My tone always --" I froze as my fingers caught on a knot.
"What is it?" He asked, brow furrowing.
I swallowed. "Do you have a mirror?"
He shook his head, stepping closer. "No, I apologize. Can I help?"
I removed my hands from my locks of brown. "Tell me if that blue bead is still there."
His eyes widened. "I think..." We both glanced at his scrambled bedsheets.
"Dammit, no --" I rushed over and swiped it up. An entire chunk of the mess that was my hair had been sliced off my Eric's knife, and he happened to catch the blue bead that was my Caribbean Piece of Eight, as well as something that had been Jack's. My dad's.
Eric was silent as I stared it. "It's not a big deal." I said, pocketing it and turning to face him with a strained smile. "He's not here anymore, so it's ok. Yeah." I looked down. "Neither is mom."
Eric stepped closer, staring down at the braid, guilt reflected in his blue eyes. "I'm so sorry."
I began unwinding the braid, intent on retrieving the bead. "I can braid it back in." I paused. "I might not. Someone else could cut it again, in a fight."
His eyes widened. "That's a ridiculous reason."
I glared. "It's logical, Eric. And maybe I won't wear my other Piece of Eight, either! They seem to be bad luck, anyway, because they are dead! Eric, dead!"
He stepped back, startled at my harsh words. Then his expression went slack. "Oh, I understand."
I hissed. For an inexplicable reason, a hot, boiling rage began to rise in my stomach. "You understand nothing, Eric."
"No," He narrowed his eyes. "You're trying to forget, aren't you?"
I ignored the truth of his words and instead let my temper simmer. I felt my ears warm, as they did when I got really angry. "I can't forget. I can't." I all but growled.
He took the braid from my hands. I bit my tongue to keep from cursing him to Chinese. "I won't let you try. They don't deserve that."
"Give it back," I whispered. My throat burned.
"Will you promise to continue wearing it?" He asked, eyebrows raised.
My voice cracked. "Give it back. Now."
"Promise."
"You never even met them!" I seethed. I was a push away from whipping out my cutlass.
"But I've met their daughter."
I stopped, breathing heavily, fists clenched. "So? She isn't special. She's selfish and ignorant. Still a child, right? That's how people treat her."
He took one of my hands and placed the braid in my palm. "No, she's grown up. But we love her so we're a bit over protective. I trust her, too, so I'll give her back her Piece of Eight."
All of the anger was washed away and replaced by a cool wave of calm. A tear dripped off my nose, but that was it.
I stared, closing my hand around it. "It's never been this hard." I said softly, grabbing his hand as he made to draw it away. "I've never really missed them. But now that their absence means something, you know, so..." My eyes welled up. "I need them, right now, and I don't have them."
He took my other hand and drew me into his arms, holding me as my shoulders shook. "I can be here if you want," He said in his even voice. I calmed at the sound. "I can try."
I sniffled. "I'm really glad I have you, Eric. Really."
He was silent for a moment. "I'm glad I'm your first mate."
I traced the scar on the back of his palm. "Me too."
"Hey, captain -- oh."
I looked over Eric's shoulder, wiping my eyes. "Is that Jonathan? Yeah, I'm coming, hold on."
Marcela peered over his shoulders, eyes bright from the alcohol. "Did we interrup' ya?" She cackled.
"You bitch," Jonathan smacked the side of her head and she whined, glaring at him. "Ya told me to find you around now, yesterday, so..."
I sighed, pushing my hair back and pocketing the braid, pushing away from Eric. "Yeah. Eric, come hither. We have some scouting to do."
"Aye," He said. I felt his eyes the back of my head throughout the day.
"So, Commodore Elizabeth mentioned to me, at the meeting," I began in a business tone, waving Marcee and Jonathan off. "That around...uh, that way," I gestured widely to the east, "Is where ships keep disappearing, and men and women therefore continue dying."
"Yes?" Eric pushed.
"So I'd like to..meander on over there!" I said innocently, turning to face him as we emerged from the lower decks.
He raised an eyebrow. "You'll put the crew in danger?"
I rolled my eyes. "I reckon whatever is there, we can fight off with our speed and cannons. Isn't that right, my lady?" I asked the Pearl fondly, brushing a knuckle against the railing. She creaked.
Eric looked uneasy. His uneasiness began to weed into my determined resolve. "On the off chance we can't, Jacqueline, what do you suggest we do?"
I was silent. "I haven't got that far."
He apparently decided to let it rest and moved on. "Should I speak to the crew tomorrow?"
I gazed up at the sky. The sunrise was tinting the black with delicate oranges and pinks. "No. Better we don't have them panicking."
"You know I trust your judgement."
"I hope so." I replied with a grin, twirling a strand of brownish hair around my finger. I was reminded with a pang of the bead in my pocket. "Now, let's sail, shall we?"