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Author of 23 Stories |
Have yourself a merry little Christmas.
Jack Sparrow sat brooding in his cell in the damp, dark recesses of the
Port Royal jail. It was Christmas Eve, a time for joy and innocence,
something that had not crossed Jack's mind in many of a year.
Secretly, his missed the London snow that fell placidly among the
cobble stoned streets at this time of year. His ears longed for the sound
of the immaculate silence that the snow brought with it.
Now, his dreams of white had been violently interrupted by visions of
bloodshed and death. If Jack could turn back the hands of time he would, to
the last peaceful Christmas he had spent in the presence of family and
friends.
Let your heart be light. From now on our troubles will be out of sight.
As a young boy of ten, Jack peered through the parlor window of his
family's home. Firewood created a burden within his weak grip, but this
went unnoticed as he watched the scene that unfolded inside.
His father and his business partners had collected themselves around
the fireplace, telling tales of near-ruins as pirates attacked their
merchant vessels. His mother and aunts could be seen playing a light tune
on the piano, singing along. His cousins played with their newly acquired
treasures on the parlor floor, giggling happily. This picturesque scene
gave no warning to what lie ahead.
In just a year, Jack's father's books showed a heavy debt, and his
family had moved out of their comfortable, harbor home and into a crowded
workhouse. That winter, Jack stowed away on a ship that sat idly at the
docks, not being discovered for five days. Jack spent his next Christmas in
the brig of the 'Vengeful Fist' as its captain contemplated his fate.
Have yourself a merry little Christmas. Make the yuletide gay.
From now on our troubles will be miles away.
Abruptly, Jack was pulled out of his reverie by the sound of an unlocking
cell. Looking up, Jack saw Norrington, key in hand, opening the door to his
cell.
"You have been granted clemency, Mr. Sparrow." In answer to Jack's
perplexed expression, Norrington added,
"In light of the season, of course. Get out of my sight before I
change my mind." Slowly, Jack rose, not bothering to correct Norrington,
and tipping his hat to him as he exited the cell.
"Thanks very much, mate." After a moment of thought, Jack added,
"Merry Christmas."
Gathering his effects from the desk in the corner, Jack thought of
his Christmases past and how his Christmas present would never compare.
* * *
Here we are as in olden days,
Happy golden days of yours.
The night sky burned brightly with stars as Jack wandered the vacant
streets of Port Royal. The pubs were silent and absent with candlelight on
this night. The only sound of merrymaking could be heard from each house
lining the street, laughter and music pouring from each doorway. Jack
longed to have a place in these houses on this night.
"Jack!" The cry rang through the air, reaching his ears. Whirling
around, Jack saw the smiling face of Will Turner, heavily shadowed by the
streetlamp light. Jack stood, unmoving, as Will walked closer to him.
"Please, spend Christmas with us. Elizabeth and I would love to have
you."
Faithful friends who are dear to us.
Jack opened his mouth to protest, but Will held up a single hand,
silencing him.
"Please, join us. The children are eager to hear your stories." With
that, Will began walking up the path to the Swann Manor, followed closely
by Jack.
* * *
Gather near to us, once more.
Through the elegant bay window, Jack's eyes rested upon four figures
gathered around the crackling fire. Elizabeth sat in an overstuffed chair,
firelight reflecting off of her delicate features, reading a leather-bound
book too three wide-eyed boys, clearly enraptured by her words.
The four looked up suddenly when the front door creaked open. The
boys rushed into the entrance hall, shouting at the sight of their father
and his enigmatic guest.
"Who's this?"
"Is he the pirate everyone has been talking about?"
"Will he tell us a story?"
Through the years we all will be together.
"Settle down, boys. Yes, this is Captain Jack, and he's going to
spend Christmas with us." He looked questioningly at Elizabeth as he said
this, receiving only a smile and a brief nod as a response.
"We want to hear a story!" The youngest boy tugged at Jack's pant
leg. "Please!"
"Calm down, young sir!"
"Jack, my name is Jack." This brought a smile to the Captain's face.
"Jack, o' course I'll tell ya a story!"
"Excellent," Elizabeth spoke up, "let's go into the parlor."
If the fates allow.
They entered the comfortable parlor, the boys' faces awash with awe
for Jack.
"Now, young sirs, 'at story would ya like ta 'ear?"
"What about the story with mommy and daddy. Tell that one!" The
younger Jack spoke up again, receiving approving nods from his older
brothers.
"Aye, Jack, I'll tell ya the tale."
Hang the shining star upon the highest bow.
Throughout the story, Jack gestured wildly, illustrating the tale,
while Will and Elizabeth occasionally interjected. All were awake until
early morning, enraptured by Jack's simple words.
After the boys had fallen asleep in Jack's lap, Elizabeth went off to
tuck the older two, Jack had discovered their names were William and James,
into bed. Jack sat with his younger namesake asleep in his lap by the dying
fire. The small boy in his arms stirred.
"Thanks Captain Jack, this is the best Christmas ever." Jack ruffled
the boy's hair as he drifted off to sleep. In the empty parlor, Jack's
simple response reverberated off of the walls.
"Mine, too, lad; mine too."
And have yourself a merry little Christmas now.