What You Don't Have
Disclaimer: Don't own this movie, but I still love it.
The seawater burns in my eyes. The coal around them will probably be all over my face when I hit the surface, but it's worth it, because I see it approaching.
I take a deep breath when I can. Fresh air has never tasted so good before. I'm lucky the Caribbean water is so warm, I'd probably freeze to death if I tried this somewhere else. But it's a very briefly moment of joy, because this girl is wearing a lot of clothes for someone that lives in a place when it's rarely below one hundred degrees. She pulls me back down. I swim below again and remove her dress.
Don't worry; she's wearing something underneath it.
I'm very grateful to be able to get onto the landing stage again with the girl over my shoulder. She seems young, maybe eighteen. It should be punishable to force so young people into corsets; it's not the first time I see someone pass out because of them.
I lay her down on the ground. Something that looks like half of the English navy comes running towards me, and I subconsciously take a step back.
She still has her hair over her face. It's weird; my fingers are itchy from the extremely strong urge to brush those blond, wet curls away. And I haven't even seen the girl!
But I don't have time to get more curios about her looks, because now the half-ish part of the English navy comes and pushes me away. I sigh, annoyed, and get my knife out of my pocket, because I know what's about to come.
Someone else seems to have come up with my idea about brushing the hair out of her face before me; I see one of the soldiers do it through the mass of people.
- She's not breathing! He calls out.
I lose my cool and pushes the away with my knife ready for action.
- Move! I say loudly.
They seem to obey out of reflex. I guess they do everything you tell them to do. English people are all sissies.
I don't have time to look at her face, I just cut her corset open with a hand that's used to doing this and throws it aside. I was going to look at her face now, but she tosses her head to the side and coughs up a mouthful of seawater.
- I would never have thought of that, one of the soldiers says.
- Clearly you've never been to Singapore, I respond.
That's where I thought up that trick. A smile starts to linger on my lips when I think of the first girl I tried it on: A geisha that blacked out while she was dancing.
She was very grateful. And very good in bed.
I fleetly run my hand over her collarbone, on the landigstage-girl, not the geisha. She's wearing some sort of medallion that looks disturbingly familiar.
I was planning to ask her were she got that, but then I look into the eyes of the girl who's life I just saved.
And during this short second of eye contact my heart retracts in a sudden cramp and every memory of every girl I've ever met floats out of my mind.
And during this second I manage to think one single thought:
Beauty. This is what beauty looks like.
God. What is she doing to me? My head is spinning.
- On your feet! Says a strict voice next to me.
I get up. It's possible that I'm going to be hanged by dawn, but I don't care. I've seen the most beautiful thing on earth. So far I can die happy.
Elizabeth's soft lips on my cheek wake me up. I roll over to face her. Her hair is messy and she's sweaty from the warm blanket and last night's love making (I hate that phrase, but I couldn't think of a better way to put it), but she's just as beautiful now as she was then.
- You looked so happy, she whispers and kisses me gently. You dreamed something fun?
- I dreamed about you, I say softly and cups her cheek with my hand.
- About me? She says.
- About the day we met, I says. Do you remember?
She smiles, but doesn't respond right away. I get the feeling she's thinking about something that happened a long time ago, before my dream ever took place.
- How could I forget, Mr. Sparrow, she says sweetly and approaches my mouth again.
I smile quickly before our lips meet.
It's ridiculous to think about something you didn't used to have when you have it now. Why would I dream of that day when Lizzie hardly can get more beautiful than she is now?