Translation: Rosette (also known as Red)
Rating: PG 13
Summary: A lonely housewife
It was that moment before the sun started to rise from the sea. The darkness of the night was still everywhere, but now it had a touch of upcoming day and its brightness.
The Caribbean night was blacker than black, though in the daytime at the exotic seashore was like heaven on the earth with its palm trees, white sand and turquoise bays where colorful fishes swam in the middle of colorful corals.
Jamaica was the largest islands at the Caribbean Sea and Port Royal was the biggest town at the island.
The town was very important to the merchant vessels and because it was a centre of the Caribbean's civilized British nobility, it had become the center of the Caribbean Sea. Former hiding place of the pirates and the reputation as the world's sinful town had become now idyllic, civilized miniature of the kingdom, who was leaded by old Governor Swann.
The power of the Governor had begun deteriorate, because the man was old and easily leaded by others. Swann stayed still at the authority, because he hoped to do one thing before he would die. And it was to find her lost daughter and safe her future.
However, the girl had things quite well and she was closer than the Governor could have ever imagined.
A few miles away from Port Royal lied high rocks and from there was a long fall to the dark green sea. The crest of waves smashed again and again against the craggy rock and the birds had nests in the rock holes.
Small crabs scuttled on the sandy beach of the bay and circled around the rope of the old boat as they hunted micro-organisms to eat. The boat hadn't been used quite a long time and the paint had begun to peel off because of the sunshine and rainstorms. The boat was all alone at the waterline, like waiting that somebody would row it onto the waves and it could bump against ship's hull again.
There was a house built on the rocks, above the beach. It was beautiful, little house with chalked walls and thatched roof. There were two other houses near the main house; other one was the stable and the other was a shed. Little pathway lead to both across the bright green grass. Pretty fence skirted the garden and it protected inhabitants to fell down to the sea from the edge of the rocks.
It wasn't a coincidence that the house situated right at that kind of place. The bay was very deep and it was excellent place to anchor a larger ship without that anybody knew about it at the Port Royal.
The master of the house needed to come and go without anybody knowing about it.
When the couple who owned the house had bought the place soon after the birth of their firstborn, they had disagreed if the Jamaica was good place to live. The master happened to be a pirate and people didn't care about pirates at the Port Royal at all in these days. They prefered to hang pirates if they just caught them.
The mistress would wanted to be close to her father, who lived in the Port Royal's Governor's mansion and commanded the island of Jamaica with his last strength.
They compromised and bought the house a little farther from Port Royal and the man forbad his wife to reveal their identity to anyone and told her to make her business near, in a small village instead of the capital.
But then, when the life began to seem peaceful, everything changed.
The house became quiet; expect the child's cheerful laugh at the garden. Young, beautiful mistress was silent and lonely. Often she walked next to the fence at the time when sun was setting and let her delicate fingers to caress the rough wood. Brown eyes watched longing at the sea which shimmered in the colors of fire and the sky, but she never saw there what she missed. The ship which's hull and sails was black as the night itself.
Six years had passed and Elizabeth Sparrow, nee Swann, was 26 years old, the wife of the Pirate Captain Jack Sparrow and mother of two children. And loneliest human on the earth. At least she really felt like one.
"Where are you, Jack..?" Elizabeth whispered the question every night into the wind. Either aloud or without a sound. She didn't know if she was never going to get an answer to that question, but her heart didn't stop waiting for him.
Elizabeth sighed and rose up from the bed as the tiredness smarted her eyes and she walked to the wooden cradle which were opposite of her own bed. She took aside the blanket which was decorated with lace and took a screaming baby boy to her arms.
The young woman tried to hush and cradle the baby as she walked around the room. Nothing helped.
Elizabeth sat tiredly at the edge of the bed and positioned the boy on her thigh on his stomach as she swung the child and hummed old lullaby. The woman almost felt that she would cry anytime soon just because of tiredness.
"Calm down, my love..." Elizabeth hummed and quickly wiped the corner of her eye. "It's alright… Mom is here…"
Why must I stand all of this alone? Elizabeth thought, but regretted her thought. She wouldn't have wanted to think her two little children as a burden, though they sometimes felt like it. But sometimes, in the moments of exhaustion and hopelessness, Elizabeth would have hoped that the father of the children would get up from the bed instead of her and reassure the boys.
After a moment, that felt like eternity, the little one's cry began to calm down. Elizabeth was relieved and wiped her eyes again as she held of the baby the whole time. The woman lifted carefully the three month's old boy up onto her thighs and looked at the small head covered with dark, fluffy hair and sleepy, tearful eyes which were as dark as the boy's father's eyes.
The three months old baby, who was called Ron Jacob Sparrow, smacked his lips and sniveled like he wondered if he should stop crying.
"Are you hungry, my son..?" Elizabeth asked quietly from the child and opened her nightdress smiling. She took the baby in her arm and offered another of her round breasts which was swollen because of the pregnancy.
Ron took the top his mother's breast into his mouth and began to suck with satisfied utter sounds. Small fists settled on the breast as they sometimes struck the air and grabbed of Elizabeth's long, light brown lock of hair.
Elizabeth smiled sadly and laughed tenderly at the baby, who enjoyed his meal with eyes closed. The children couldn't look more like Jack, the woman thought as she breastfed her baby. I can see the same features now already. The most distinguishable feature is darker than dark eyes and dark brown hair. And tricky, lively personality wasn't certainly the least feature inherited from Jack.
"Good boy, Ron, my little one. Now you got something in your tummy." Elizabeth talked tenderly to the child and smiled wearily as she put the baby back to his cradle. "Fortunately, you like milk and as for now you don't want rum…"
Elizabeth laughed as she thought about her husband's drinking habits and set the blanket back to cover the little body, waited for a moment that the child would fall asleep and then walked to the next room, where her elder son slept in his bed.
Elizabeth looked at the sleeping boy, who had just turned 6 years old. Under the light-colored blanket distinguished the head with dark hair as it rested on the pillow. The blanket moved up and down as it revealed that the little boy was in deep sleep.
The woman circled to the other side of the bed, because she wanted to see her elder son's face. Elizabeth almost stumbled on something and glanced at the floor. Wooden sword, that the child had gotten for his birthday present, rested at there where the child had thrown it after the day's games had ended.
Elizabeth remembered how she had searched the sword, that would look as real as possible, from the near village to give it to her son for a birthday present and at the same time her cheeks turned to red because of anger.
Why Jack didn't come home at least on the boy's birthday?! Jack remembers quite well when the boy's big day is, when he was right there to witness our son's birth at the cabin of the Black Pearl. He said that he would always remember that day.
I'm sure that he could have brought much more glorious gift from his journeys than a cheap wooden sword!
Elizabeth snorted silently and caressed gently his older boy's Alexander Joaquin Sparrow's sleepy dazed hair. The boy moved as he slept and Elizabeth took her hand away, without wanting to wake up the child.
Elizabeth soon sneaked out from the room and closed the door behind her. There was still time before the morning would come and when she couldn't sleep anymore didn't meant that the children would have to wake up too.
Elizabeth walked as silently as she could to the house's small and dark kitchen and set fire on the candle at the table of the kitchen. Then she poured a glassful of red wine to herself and hoped that it would help her to fall asleep again.
Elizabeth silently listened the early morning. The sounds of the huge waves emanated from below at the beach. She kept the bedroom window ajar at night and she could hear the crickets and old door of the stable slamming in the wind every now and then.
The woman had set a fire on the candle at her bedside table and lied awake, leaning against the pillows and looking at the ceiling.
Jack… Almost a year has passed, Elizabeth thought and tried her hardest to prevent the tear to fall on her cheek. A whole year from the moment when we last time saw each other! Eternity…
I don't even know if you are dead or alive. Can't you write to me? At least one letter, message or note... some sign… so I would know am I still your wife. So I would know do I have a husband anymore…
Elizabeth couldn't help herself but she sobbed hopelessly. She knew that reminiscing of the past didn't help at all. Memories of the touches, laughter, happiness and love didn't make her feel better, but still she opened the drawer of her bedside table and took out the old, leather covered book.
The book, that hided the memories almost for six years. Her diary.