Chapter Text
I was only fifteen years old and living near a port town in England when my mother, Carmella, died. I sat by her side as I watched her take her last breath, both my hands curled around her pale, cold one. My seventeen-year-old brother, Adriano, sat on her other side doing the same. She said her last words in a mix of English and Italian, looking lovingly at the both of us as her strength lessened more and more.
"Adriano…Concetta…mio bambini. Look after each other. I want you to…vivere. Prosper. Do not take the path I took. Liberare…Live free."
Finally, she closed her eyes and became still and silent, settling farther into her pillows. I let her cold hand fall gently to the blanket and Adriano kissed her cheek and looked at me to do the same. Trembling, I pressed my lips against my mother’s temple and drew back quickly. She was cold. I sat back and let out a choked sob, bringing my fingers up to my lips.
"Mama," I cried out weakly. "Mama!" She couldn't hear me. She didn't wake up. Adriano crossed to where I was sitting and gathered me up in his arms and let me cry into his chest. He whispered soothingly into my ear as he stroked my hair and before I knew it I had drifted off to sleep.
I was woken abruptly when the door to the room I slept in was thrown open unceremoniously. I was in my own bedroom. Adriano must have carried me. I sat up to see Adriano and a strange man standing in the doorway. The man was dressed in tattered clothing and looked like he had been neglecting personal hygiene. There was a bald patch on the top of his head, and his hair was long and greasy. Along with his unpleasant appearance came an unpleasant aroma, like filth mixed with salt and sea. It was like he had a permanent scowl on his face and he looked at me with yellowed eyes, which made me cower.
"Chetta," said Adriano slowly. He gestured timidly to the man beside him. "This is our Uncle. 'E says…'e's gonna take care of us."
"Aye," said the man. "But there'll be none o' that 'Uncle' business. Call me Pintel." And so life with Pintel began. He was a very strange man. He took to calling my brother "Ragetti," and me "Kid." He severely lacked in manners and taste. After every meal, he would belch loudly and laugh at us when we cringed. He would send Adriano off to do errands around the house while he just sat drinking. He had learned on the first night where our liquor cabinet was and proceeded to empty it as soon as he could. He always passed out in the armchair every night. It seemed like I was invisible to him except when he needed me to cook. It didn't matter to me. He smelled and had horrid manners. On the contrary, Adriano was quite fascinated with him. While listening to one of their conversations, I learned that Pintel was a sailor. He talked of going to sail to the Caribbean where there was sand and sun and crystal clear water.
"'Ave you ever been there?" asked Adriano.
"Naw," said Pintel. "But there's a ship headin' down there in a few weeks."
"Then what's goin' to 'appen to me and Chetta?" asked Adriano, sounding a bit thwarted.
"Well, you'll be goin' with, o' course," said Pintel. "'Cept I dunno if the kid can go."
"What d'you mean?"
"Women are bad luck on ships," Pintel said. "The whole lot of them."
"Bad luck? B-But she's not even a full-sized one!" Adriano protested.
"Hmmm…you're right, that might not count," said Pintel. "We'll 'ave to think on it." He took a swig from his liquor bottle and then hollered into the kitchen. "Oy, kid! Hurry up with supper!"
We only stayed long enough to bury our mother. Her grave was marked by a tombstone that read "Carmella Alise Pintel-Ragetti. Loving wife and mother." It was paid for by selling nearly everything our family owned. Pintel sold all of my dresses and made me dress in Adriano's old trousers and a shirt that hung off my small frame. His grimy hands pulled at my hair as he gathered it all at the nape of my neck and sloppily tied a ribbon. I looked at myself in the mirror.
"I look like a bloke!" I said, horrified.
"Aye," said Pintel, circling me and admiring his handiwork. He looked from me to Adriano and snorted. "You look like brothers." I was confused as was Adriano, but Pintel explained that I could not be revealed as a female where we were headed to next.
"Wot's goin' on?" asked Adriano.
"You know dat ship goin' to the Caribbean? We're goin' to be on it, and little Chet here," Pintel cuffed me on the shoulder, "is goin' to be the cabin boy."
"Cabin boy? But Chetta's a girl, she can't be-" Pintel cut across my brother's words a bit harshly.
"Chet's a boy as far as anyone else can tell! No one's goin' ta be checkin' under our trousers, aren't they?"
"Oh," was all Adriano had to say. I fretted over myself in the mirror during this whole exchange. Pintel grabbed me and smeared his grimy hands all over my face. I squealed and tried to pull away, but he kept on.
"Oy! You're gettin' me filthy!" I shrieked.
"Too clean for a boy," he growled. That night he led us away from the only home that we had known with only the clothes on our backs and a few small trinkets that we could carry on our person.
Pintel brought us into town and went to a tavern to sign us up into crewing a ship. He had bought himself a bottle of rum and eventually got so drunk that he ended up starting a bar brawl. He was losing badly so Adriano jumped in to help. I had never been this scared in my life as I watched my brother and Pintel fighting off drunks. Since they had no swords, they were using practically everything in reach to fight. The brawl ended when Adriano took an empty rum bottle and smashed it over a man's head.
Everyone froze.
Some men yelled in rage and started to run at him with their swords, but a gang of rough-looking men stepped in front of Adriano and stopped them from charging at him by pointing pistols at them. I ran to Adriano and threw my arms about him, thankful he was safe. He put an arm around me protectively and drew me away from the armed ruffians who had their backs to us. Pintel came to stand behind us, looking warily at the armed men.
"'Ey, wot's the big idea?" demanded one of the men, glaring at the ones with pistols.
"Gents, lower your weapons." The men slowly lowered their guns and swords and a man with a scraggly beard and feathered hat stepped in between them.
"Bloody hell, that's Hector Barbossa!" one of the swordsmen said, and he turned abruptly on his heel and left. His companions did the same, yelling "Barbossa!" and running in the opposite direction. The man called Barbossa turned towards his men and let out a hearty laugh, and several other people joined in. Even Pintel let out a few snorts behind
Barbossa's laughter stopped abruptly and he turned to us, as did his men. I felt Adriano tense at my side and Pintel pushed us apart to face Barbossa. I suddenly became aware that several gazes were upon us.
"That was quite a fight you two put up," said Barbossa. "What'd be your names?" His gaze flickered over me and I unconsciously grabbed Pintel's sleeve. He snatched his arm away and glared at me.
"I'm Pintel and these two are my nephews. The tall one's Ragetti an' the whelp is Chet."
"How would you gents be interested in joining me crew? Our voyage is to Tortuga in the Caribbean," said Barbossa.
"Aye, we'd be honored, sir!" said Pintel, putting on a higher pitch than normal. Barbossa nodded and looked over each of us one more time.
"We set sail at dawn."
---
That night I slept huddled uncomfortably next to Adriano. Pintel was hogging up the only bed in the room and a lot of banging, screaming, and drunken laughter filtered in from the neighboring rooms. The floorboards kept creaking and since Adriano and I were sleeping on the floor, it became an annoyance.
"What on earth are they doing at this time of night?" I murmured grumpily, trying to find a more comfortable spot where the floorboards didn't shift. Adriano just shushed me and offered his shoulder as a pillow and I, too tired to complain further, made myself as comfortable as possible. I was able to sleep a little until morning.
"OY! Git yer arses up offa dat floor now or I'll sail off wit'out yeh!" I groaned when Adriano sat up immediately. Pintel kept poking me with his shoe. "Git up, lassie!" As soon as I got up, Pintel was tugging at my hair again as it had fallen out of the ribbon as I slept. Exhausted and with an aching scalp, I let myself be ushered from the room and down the stairs. We were complaining of hunger so Pintel threw a few rolls at us (I would think more out of annoyance than concern for our health) and then led us out the door. We soon found ourselves at the docks and started searching for the ship we were to sail on.
"Er, Pintel," said Adriano "wot's the ship's name?" Pintel stopped in his tracks causing Adriano to run into him. He had a peculiar look upon his face. The corners of his mouth were drawn down and his brow furrowed as he stared ahead of him. After a beat, he glared at us.
"Ne'er mind wot the ship's called! Just hurry up!" He turned on his heel, walking briskly down the dock. We had to jog to keep up. There were so many ships at the docks that it seemed impossible that we would find the right one. We were about to pass yet another ship when something caught my eye. I stopped and turned to gaze up at the vessel and there standing on deck by the gangplank was Barbossa. He was surveying crewmen loading cargo onto the ship and for an instant his gaze fell upon me, his eyes narrowing. My eyes, however, grew to the size of saucers at being scrutinized by the captain and I scrambled to catch up with my uncle and brother.
"We passed the ship! Pintel! Adriano! We passed it!" I yelled running after them. It was then that fate decided for me to trip on an ill-placed coil of rope and I tumbled to the ground face first. There was a collective groan from those who had witnessed my clumsy moment. I was too embarrassed to get up. However, it had finally attracted the attention of my relatives. There was a sound of hurried footsteps as they rushed over.
"Chetta! Are you alright?" asked Adriano, putting a hand on my back. I only whimpered in response. It started to sting where my face had come in contact with the dock. Rough hands seized my shoulders and pulled me up. Pintel laughed as he dusted me off.
"Jest a lil brush wit' the ground, boy, nothing ta fret on--"
"She's bleedin'!" said Adriano, examining the right side of my face. Pintel put his face up close and looked. He winced (and I did the same at the smell of his breath).
"Gots splinters, he has," said Pintel, giving a stern look to Adriano. He turned his gaze back to me. "Now wot's got ye so bothered to have ye fallin' all over yerself, boy?"
"We--" I winced and started to tear up. My face stung when I talked. "We've passed the ship. 'S back there." I pointed towards where Barbossa had stood upon the deck, but he was no longer there. Pintel muttered something as we walked over to the ship. I looked up at the side and saw that the name was rather artfully called the Bejeweled Prestige. Then, to my horror, I saw that the captain had descended the gangplank and was now standing on the dock. His eyes were on me as we approached and I tried to hide behind Adriano, but he was almost as scrawny as me, so it did no good.
"Welcome to the crew, gents," said Barbossa. "Grab a load if you will. We'll be setting sail shortly."
Adriano and Pintel chorused "Aye, Cap'n," and went to help load the cargo. I went to follow, but Barbossa put a hand on my shoulder.
"I trust that the new cabin boy isn't that gauche all the time." I blinked, looking up at him with wide eyes. He laughed
"Means clumsy. To say the least." I blushed and he chuckled again. "Not very talkative, are ye, boy?" I shook my head.
"Chet's still not got his land legs back, Cap'n," said Pintel as he went by carrying a crate. "An' 'e only talks to his brother here. I'm his uncle an' I only heard him say a scant few words!" Barbossa looked at me, an amused glint in his eye.
"Shy, then? Well, you'll most likely be openin' up by the end of the voyage," said Barbossa, chuckling and ruffling my hair. Some of it came loose of the ribbon. He then took my chin gently and examined my face. I couldn't help but tremble nervously. “Off you go, lad! To the galley. Cook'll take care of that for ye. There'll be jobs fer ye once we get out to sea." He gave me a little push and I scurried up the gangplank. I stopped and looked around the deck. Some rugged-looking sailors were bustling about to make the ship ready to sail and paid no heed to me. I saw a stairway going below deck and decided to see if that was the galley. Sure enough, as I descended the stairs, I heard the clanging of pots and pans. The man I assumed was the cook had his back to me as he reached for a pot and started scrubbing at it. He was short, squat and bald. He whistled a tune as he scrubbed, and seemed not to have noticed my entrance.
"Er…sir?" He jumped, dropped the pot with a crash and turned around swiftly to see me standing there.
"Where th' bloody 'ell did you come from?" he demanded, his grey eyes wide. He also had a brown mustache that looked bristled as if it were a startled cat.
"Cap'n said you could get my splinters out."
"Splinters?" said the cook, looking confused. "Wot 'choo get splinters for?"
"I…er...tripped and fell on my face on the dock," I said quietly. The man walked up close to me and took up my chin as Barbossa had. He tutted.
"Gon' to have to pull those out, laddie," he said, grinning in a way that made me uneasy. "Hold still. This won't hurt…much.” Before I knew it, he seized a rather large splinter between his long grimy fingernails and plucked. I couldn't help the loud girlish squeal that escaped my mouth.
"That wasn' all that bad, now, eh, boy?" chuckled the cook as he wiped my face with a wet rag after freeing all the splinters. I gave a sigh of relief in reply. "Wuss your name, boy?"
"Chet," I said timidly. The man grinned, revealing a few missing teeth in front.
"Well, Chet, I'm Dirk Austen. Ever need a bite to eat, ye know where to go." Dirk cuffed me on the shoulder, nearly knocking me over.
"Yes, sir!" I said. Dirk laughed.
"It's 'aye,' laddie! Yer gonna be a sailor, act like one!"
"Aye, sir!" I said, leaving Dirk chuckling to himself down in the galley.
I stood there at the railing of the Bejeweled Prestige watching the waves of the ocean ripple endlessly. We had been at sea for almost the whole day and the sky was turning crimson as the sunset on the horizon. Soon, the crew ceased their work and sat leisurely on the deck. Dirk passed around a bottle of rum and soon they were taking turns swigging. I sat timidly between Pintel and Adriano as I watched the crew get inebriated. Pintel had already downed about half a bottle when he handed it to Adriano.
"Take a sip, Ragetti. That's th' good stuff," slurred Pintel. Adriano hesitated and then took a small gulp. Soon he was
doubled over coughing and I had to thump him on the back to get him to stop. Several men nearby chuckled. "'S' alright. You'll be gluggin' it down like water 'fore too long!" Once he caught his breath, Adriano stood and took me by the arm. Pintel frowned.
"Oy. Where're you lot goin'?"
"It's Chetta…ah—er—Chet's bedtime," said Adriano. He sounded hoarse from his coughing fit. He led me down to the bunks and helped me settle into a hammock. He kissed me on the forehead and went to stand up, but I took his hand.
"Don't leave," I begged. "I'm scared. I don't like it here. I wanna go back home." Adriano looked at me and then gathered me into his arms like he did when Mama died.
"Chetta…we can't go home now. We got to stay with Pintel. We'll be alright." A tear fell and I started to sniffle. He hugged me closer and kissed my forehead once more. "Don't cry. I'm here. I'm not goin' anywhere." It would be a long time until I'd be able to fall asleep in the arms of my brother again.
---
We had been sailing for a month when we came across two ships flying England's colors. At the sight of them, Barbossa cursed and a few other crewmen started acting uneasy. Dirk came up from the galley, saw the ships, and mysteriously went below again. The ships came closer and closer. Some men started to panic.
"Wot do we do, Cap'n?" asked the first mate.
"Act like nothing's the matter! If anything should happen, keep to the Code!" barked Barbossa. His gaze snapped to me. My eyes widened to the size of saucers like they always seemed to do whenever I met gazes with the captain. At other times I thought he did it just to scare me when he knew I was standing near, but now he looked serious about it. "Chet. Bar yourself in my quarters." I hesitated. What was going on? Barbossa rolled his eyes and took me by the arm, leading me roughly towards the doors to his cabin. I looked back at my brother.
"What about Adriano?" I asked.
"He's fine on his own. Now get inside!" Barbossa shoved me into his cabin and shut the door. I heard him lock it. Panicking, I pounded on the door and started screaming, but no one came for me.
After a moment, I sat on the window seat and looked out at the two ships approaching. They looked to be military men, and as they got closer, it seemed that they didn’t look very friendly. The ships stopped on either side of the Prestige. I couldn't see or hear anything that was happening on board and sat there in silence for a while until I heard the sound of muskets being fired and swords clashing. My heart started beating rapidly and all I could worry about was Adriano in the middle of that ruckus.
After another while, the racket ceased, and I saw that the two ships were starting to pull away. As I happened to look on board one of them, my heart stopped. Pintel and Adriano were tied up and shackled and were about to be led below deck by two soldiers.
"NO!" I yelled, pounding my fists against the window and crying. "ADRIANO!" I didn't notice Barbossa unlock the door and enter until he grabbed my wrists and gently pulled me from the window. "YOU HAVE TO GO BACK FOR HIM! DON'T LET THEM KILL MY BROTHER!"
"There ain't no goin' back for him! I made an accord with the Navy men! And anyway, it would be against the Code to go back fer 'em!" said Barbossa.
"C-c-code? What code?" I asked. Barbossa took me by the shoulders and looked me straight in the eye.
"The Pirates' Code."
Right after the words had left his mouth, there was a loud boom that rocked the ship. Barbossa ran to look out the window and cursed.
"Come now, we must move quickly," said Barbossa, pulling me from the cabin and unto the deck. Several motionless bodies lay around us. Only a handful of crewmembers were left standing I clutched Barbossa's arm.
"Wot happened?" I asked.
"What does it look like happened?" he replied gruffly. "Blew a damn hole through our hull! Any moment this ship'll be at the bottom of the ocean!" He led me over to the side, where some crew members were already climbing down into a longboat. I sat on the front bench and Barbossa sat next to me. We all looked back at the ship and saw that the back was already sinking into the water.
"Where're we goin' now?" I asked.
"Land."
- - -
I moved down to sit on the floor of the boat, hugging my knees to my chest. I could do nothing but stare out at the endless stretch of ocean in front of us. Barbossa was getting to be more irritable by the hour. I often looked up to see him glaring straight ahead. We had watched the Bejeweled Prestige go down and had been drifting along since then. Every now and then, a couple of crewmen would row, but gradually all of them would get tired. Soon evening set in and all we could see were the stars shining over the dark waters. I nodded off a couple of times, but I kept getting jolted awake by the waves.
My thoughts often drifted to my uncle and brother and tears stung my eyes. I sobbed quietly, burying my face in my knees.
"What're ye blubberin' about?" came a gruff voice. My head shot up, cracking out of stiffness, and looked over at Barbossa who had stretched out over the bench and put his hat over his face. "Well?"
"I-I-I'm sorry, sir. I thought everyone was sleepin'," I mumbled.
"Well, ye thought wrong," he said. I let out a little sob. "Aw, grow a backbone or shaddup!"
"…Barbossa?" He threw his hat down to the floor and sat up, glaring. He grabbed a handful of my hair and forced me to look at him.
"What'd ye jest call me, boy?" he snarled. Tears fell from my saucer-like eyes in fear.
"Cap'n Barbossa!" I corrected myself hurriedly. "Cap'n! That's wot I meant!" To my relief, he released me and then laid back down. He gave a humorless laugh.
"Didn't yer uncle or brother ever teach ye to act like a man?" he asked.
"Er…no," I said stupidly. It was then that Barbossa actually did laugh.
"No? What're they doin', then, training ye ter be a eunuch?" I frowned, not knowing what he was going on about.
"Wot's a eunuch?" I asked.
"A eunuch…is a bloke wit' no bollocks." I was suddenly glad it was dark, because my face had turned the color of a tomato.
"I…I got bollocks," I said, trying to stay calm.
"How old are you?" he asked.
"Fifteen, sir."
"Boy, when I was your age, I had ditched home ter go sailin' an' look where I am now. Cap'n of my own ship." No sooner had the words left his mouth that a very Pintel-like scowl crossed his face. "But I didn't get where I am now without a backbone." We were silent for a moment.
"…Cap'n?" He grunted in response. "What d'ya think's gonna happen to Adriano?" He paused and gave a long sigh before answering.
"Truth be told, most o' the crew've been press-ganged into the Royal Navy. Not a glamorous job to boast. Ye get treated worse there than ye would with the nastiest of pirates. I can't tell ye what fate's got in fer yer folks. Maybe right now they're wishin' they had been killed on the spot." This news was too much for me to bear and I began to sob openly. Barbossa sat up again.
"Stop that blubberin' right now or I'll toss ye overboard!" I looked up at him in fear and stuffed a fist in my mouth to stop any sound from coming out. However, Barbossa ignored me, snatching up his hat and replaced it over his eyes. It was silent for the rest of the night.