A flash of green. The signal that someone has come back to this world from the dead. Or someone has left this world without dying. As a great pirate named Gibbs has said, "Some go their whole lives and never see it, some claim to have seen it who ain't." And as Elizabeth Turner stood there on that island beach, seeing it for the second time in her life, she could only cry at the sight. Someone had indeed left this world. And he had left her alone. She clutched the chest that she now held tight to her, cradling it in her arms. "Will," she whispered to it, "What am I to do for the next ten years?" She was alone on an island she was unsure of. Her husband, Captain of the Flying Dutchman, had stranded her there. 'Stranded is such a harsh word.' She thought to herself. He loved her. He had left her there to keep her safe. Safe from danger, peril, and life-threatening adventures. The things she loved and longed for. And now, as the sun was setting, she thought of another thing that she loved that Will was trying to keep her safe from. That charming, clever, devious pirate, Jack Sparrow. "Captain Jack Sparrow," She uttered with a smile on her face. 'No,' she thought to herself, laying the chest on a rock, starting to search for firewood, 'I don't love Jack, I love Will.' Of course she did. He was her husband. She had to love him, right? Why else would she marry him? She loved him. So, why had she never told him so? She'd never said, "I love you Will." Why? She continued to pick up the small lumber, trying to fool herself, pretending like she didn't know. But she knew. Jack. Captain Jack Sparrow. A pirate legend. Captain of the Black Pearl. He had gotten in the way with his charm, cleverness, and smooth talk. He was devious, untruthful, and despicable, yet he was a good man. And she knew it, no matter how many times he had denied it. 'No,' she thought to herself, 'I do not love him.' She started her fire and gazed at the flames. They reminded her of a night, much like the one she was experiencing. Except now, she was alone, before she had had company. She and Jack had danced around the fire, drinking rum, and singing lyrics such as, "We're devils, we're black sheep, we're really bad eggs! Drink up me 'earties Yo-Ho!" she couldn't help but giggle at the memory. She remembered how Jack had spilled his heart to her, whether by trust or drunkenness, telling her his hopes and dreams.
She had told him, "...you will
be positively the most fearsome pirates in the Spanish Main."
"Not just the Spanish Main, love. The entire ocean. The entire world. Wherever we want to go, we'll go. That's what a ship is, you know. It's not just a keel and a hull and a deck, and sails, that's what a ship needs. But what a ship is, what the Black Pearl really is...is freedom."
At that moment, back in the present, Elizabeth couldn't think of anything more she wanted to do than sail with Captain Jack and the Black Pearl crew, living out her childhood dream. But she was sure she would probably not be welcome on board. Not if Jack was still holding a grudge against her for killing him. He had never told her he'd forgiven her. He hadn't even shown it somehow. Sure, he had saved her and Will's life during the maelstrom, but he was a good man, so naturally he would save them. "Of course," Elizabeth said aloud to herself, "if he were here now, he'd make up some excuse to convince me that he wasn't a good man."
Then, she cried. She cried for everything she had lost. Her father. Her ex-fiancé, James Norrington. Now Will. She found that most of her tears were for the loss of her friend. More than a friend. The loss of Jack. And the more she cried, the more she wished he was there. She slapped herself in the face. "What are you thinking?" She scorned herself, "Stop it! Why are you longing for a man who's not your husband?" But no matter how much she punished herself, he always came back to mind. Which just made her want to cry even more.
Elizabeth started to feel herself falling asleep, so she leaned against a palm tree and closed her eyes. Her face was wet from the salty tears that had been pouring down her face. She grabbed the chest concealing her husband's heart and set it beside her. As she slept, she dreamed about a tall, dark, and handsome pirate with a red bandanna tied around his head.
He'd done it again. Jack chuckled to himself that morning as he unrolled the circular chart piece in from of him. He straightened his red bandanna and put his favorite hat on his head. Sure, Barbossa had gotten away with the Pearl, but Jack knew that his efforts were useless without the chart. Now, as he sat in a sorry excuse for a sailboat, he couldn't help but smile. He had the guide to the Fountain of Youth. "Perhaps saving the whelp didn't prove so bad after all." He said to himself. He wouldn't have had to seek the Fountain of Youth is he hadn't decided to give immortality to Will instead of himself. Jack was hoping to live forever, sailing the seas for eternity. Since that's what he thought he wanted most, his compass would get him there in no time.
He bit the cork off of a rum bottle, spit it on the small deck, and flipped open his compass. "Drink up me 'earties Yo-Ho!" He sang to himself, tipped his head back, and took a swig of rum. The point of the compass' needle allowed him to sail in the right direction. He headed off, following the point of the needle, took another swig until the bottle was empty. Then he threw it in the ocean.
Captain Jack Sparrow tilted his head towards the sun, absorbing the warmth of its rays. Picking up another bottle, he said to himself, "A few more drinks and it should all go away." The pain. The pain of loss he was trying to soak up with the rum. The Black Pearl was not all he'd lost in the last couple of days. He was not worried about getting the Pearl back. He was clever. He always found a way to reunite with his beloved vessel. No, what troubled him was his other loss. The loss of... her. That wretched girl who'd only caused him trouble since the day he'd met her.
"Bloody Lizzie," He mumbled as he chugged more rum down. He lowered his head and spotted something. The man who had owned this boat that Jack had stolen...er, commandeered, had left his hat beneath some rope. "Looks just like the hat..." Jack didn't finish his sentence. He just opened an empty crate and threw it inside. He knew what it reminded him of. The hat that Elizabeth wore when she had disguised herself as a man, not long ago. "Those clothes did not flatter her at all." He grinned as he took another sip of his heartache "medicine".
It wasn't working. Trying to distract himself, he searched for more items in his new ship. He dug through blankets, rope, food, and found a pair of irons. "Bugger!" He uttered aloud. It made him recall when "she" had chained him to the Pearl and left him to die. He held his bottle of rum in the air and toasted, "Here's to the charming murderess!" Chugging it, finishing it, it would not help him forget.
Trying again to distract himself, Jack flipped open the compass to double-check his heading. He was on course...right towards that...island? "That's not the Fountain of Youth!" He exclaimed to no one, "It's just Curdy Island!" Jack knew these islands like he knew the taste of rum. He's been to Curdy many times before. It contained Curdy Cove and the town of Curdy. As he and his good friend, fellow pirate, and first mate, Gibbs, had discussed before, pirates weren't particularly creative when it came to naming things.
Jack noticed a small flicker of light on the beach. He took out his spyglass and aimed it in the direction of the shine. It was a fire. Well, what used to be a fire, but was now just burning ashes. He also noticed the small shape of, what seemed to be, a person lying down. He leaned towards the edge of his boat to get a closer look. Yes, it was a person, and they seemed to be moving. Jack leaned even further, trying to see better. All of a sudden, the person shot up in their sleep, startling Jack.
"AH!" Jack cried as he fell into the water. He had leaned in so far that he's lost his balance. Quickly, he climbed back into the boat, hoping no one had noticed. Then, he remembered that he was alone, and the nearest person was far away on the island, probably unable to see what was going on all the way out there. He straightened his hat, and prepared to pull in on the beach, hoping that its sole inhabitant was not going to cause him any trouble. "Maybe he can tell me what in God's name is going on."