Tales of Davy Jones'

The smile he wore told a tale that I wanted to know. His bright green eyes spoke of the adventure and mischief he had just been in. Seeing him round the corner, and almost falling into a narrow waterway, brought a smile to my own lips.

He just didn't know when to act like an adult.

"Who did you peek on now, George?"

George slid to a stop, his curls of brown hair bouncing on his head, as small beads of sweat rolled down him. The smile he wore grew as he looked around, making sure that no one else was there, before he looked over his shoulder.

"Look." He held up a map with an X on it. "This map will take us to Davy Jones' Locker."

The name of the old legend was a surprise. The last time I heard his name come from someone was my father, before he set out on his journey to the mainland.

"And where exactly did you get the map?" I inquired, looking behind him in time to see a saylor come sailing around the corner.

Water splashed as he messed up his footing and flew into the waterway. The incoming boat swerved, the driver shouting at the boy that had tumbled over the ledge. I shifted my gaze from the failing saylor and to George, who wore a guilty look.

"Don't you want to sail the sea? We can finally find that river you've talked about, and I can get enough treasure to find a ship to call my own."

The agreement to join him was on the tip of my tongue. As my eyes shifted once more to the saylor and felt my stomach drop, I knew that I couldn't.

"We can't."

Disappointment clouded his eyes.

"Is it because you're afraid of Davy Jones and the tales of him? I swear that I won't let anything happen to you. Old Jones won't lay a finger on you, Rachel."

Was it because of Davy Jones?

"Even if I said yes, with what ship would we use?"

"I'll figure that out."

"Who would be the captain?"

"Me, of course."

"And if we run into trouble? Or get attacked by pirates who aren't friendly to others who sail the silver waters?"

"I'll knock their teeth out."

"What crew would help us?"

"We'll find people."

It was ridiculous to think it would be possible, but he was right. We could find the gold rivers. I could finally get the pearls and see how the gold could look.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"I'll go."

George whooped, not showing the older boy who was supposed to be an adult. He wore a grin as he waved the map around, before doing a little dance.

"Then let's go! Off to find Davy Jones' and his locker!"

I chuckled. "Don't forget about the rivers of gold."

Just maybe, maybe, setting sail wouldn't be so bad with him. What's the worst that could possibly happen?

A long time ago, it was said that the one who created the sea that was silver as far as the eye could see, was not a man but something greater. His name was Davy Jones' and he was a legend among everyone at the seas. Or so the bed-time story my mother told me said.

He was said to have come from what lay deep under the water, from the silver rock that we used to build our cities. The story claimed that he took the body of a man, but the heart of a beast, and the mind of a monster. It said that he didn't forgive those that took his treasure. The rock; broken ships; anything that touched the bottom was said to be his and that a curse would fall onto whoever dared to be brave enough to do just that.

It was this underlining fear that created Redwater on one of the few islands.

But the most interesting part of his story that I would never wait for my mother to get to was the parts that involved gold rivers. Here, the story changed from Davy Jones', the one who would curse those who took his treasure, and transformed him into a new light. It said that he fell in love with someone and that he created rivers that were different from the sea, so that person could have a place to rule and call their own.

If only gold rivers really existed, then I might believe the tales of Davy Jones' I learned as a child.

A knock vibrated through the room and pulled me away from the childhood tales of Davy Jones'. My eyes fell upon Juliet, who donned a sailor's uniform with a few adjustments she had added to it. Shaking away any thoughts of Davy Jones' and his tales, I moved from the hard bed, my bare feet touching the cool metal ground.

"Foods done."

"Thanks."

I watched as she turned, leaving it at that. A sigh escaped me as I shook my head and made an attempt to run my fingers through my hair. It was tangled and started to show the wear that being out on the open sea brought.

It was always the same. Someone would come and tell me the food was done. I was given a one word reply, and they would leave it at that. No one tried to ask what was wrong or asked anything more about how I came to find the ship we could steal.

Looking down, I searched for my shoes. Finding one halfway under the bed, I moved so my knees dug into the cold metal to see if the other made it completely under there. Once the shoe was in sight, I moved out slowly and pulled them on.

It felt like a weight had been tied to my arms as my motions were slow.

I couldn't blame the others for not wanting to be around me. I've snapped more in the last few days than I have since I joined this crew.

Entering the kitchen area, I spotted most of the crew already there, eating. Looking over them, I spotted Jacob and William, both boys different from the first time I met them. William, especially, was different from the beginning as he now talked. Well, he at least talked to Meldmldoc.

The boy still didn't talk to me or most of the pirate crew.

"Fog be buildin' up out thar 'n that vile cap'n ain't lettin' us anchor."

"Shh, don't go natterin' about th' fog. It'd brin' Davy Jones' out."

I walked past Jekio and Kurt, hearing their conversation even as I made it to the large pot of boiling food. Stew, it seemed, was on the menu for tonight.

"Mom told us about Davy Jones' before. She said that he had a love that he lost to the sea and that he sinks ships to try and find that lost love," William said.

"Tis a tale fer sprogs 'n nah adults. Somethin' t' ease yer minds as ye sleep," Jekio called out. "Ole Jones' ain't so kind. He brin's a fog so thick that 'tis able t' hide th' ships he sails." Jekio teeth scraped together as he talked. "Ships that are black spotted. Where th' ghosts o' those who 'ave died come to' claim th' livin'. So that Jones Locker ne'er becomes empty."

"Oi, that's nonsense, and you know it!"

"Ol' Jones' ain't nonsense!" Kurt shouted back, as his hands slammed on the table. "In this thick fog, he will come slickin' into th' ship 'n loot away all our loot."

"Soul! Davy Jones' be lootin' our souls," Jekio fired out. "Nah booty. Wha' use will he 'ave fer gunpowder? Or cannons? None I tell ye. Wha' wit' his ships bein' ghosts 'n th' souls wonderin' on broad dead."

As the two continued to argue over what Davy Jones' would take if he stepped onto the warship, I turned and searched for a table. There were plenty of open chairs to pick from.

"I tell ye. Davy Jones' be aft our booty. Th' gold. Th' silver. Be no stoppin' 'im. Wha' use will he 'ave wit' th' souls when it's th' booty hes aft."

"As I told ye! Wha' good be th' loot t' 'im ye beetle-wick!"

A laugh escaped from Masque and drew both Kurt and Jekio attention. "Souls. Treasure." He shook his head, the laughter not stopping. "You're both wrong. Davy Jones' will be looking for a wife.'

I watched as someone threw a spoon across the way at him.

"Not everyone will be looking for a wife!" My eyes scanned the area, spotting Rosa sitting with Saul and Leticia. "Davy Jones' could be wanting a husband."

Masque looked at the spoon, throwing it onto the table. "Who'd he turn into his wife. Davy Jones' doesn't strike me as the one to..." He trailed off, a thoughtful expression appearing on his face.

I shook my head, finding a spot away from the others.

Jekio and Kurt had continued their argument. Rosa looked almost as if she was going to skin a pirate. William almost looked like he wanted to know more about Davy Jones', but it seemed everyone had something to say about him and his legend.

"To be submissive?" Captain Velwyn asked as he moved into the room and from the corridors. The corners of his lips were pointed upward. "I think he would be."

Hana's expression changed after that. "Just because one is submissive, doesn't make them the woman."

"I could always help Jones with that?" Masque raised the spoon that was thrown at him. "Just get them on my table, and I'll change whatever I need to."

"As if anyone would be stupid enough to ask you to operate on them."

"I am a certified doctor."

"More like a certified pirate. You would kill the person before anything else, if they got put on your table."

Masque pointed at me after Hana's comment. "I fixed her!"

"You gave me old bandages! That I only found out later wasn't clean!" I shouted back. "And you didn't fix me. My wound still throbs."

"I fixed our ship."

Edwald decided to jump in then. "You mean the ship we had to abandon because you couldn't fix it?"

"The ship that could have taken us out of this fog," Bondi added in.

"This here is a warship. It'll get us there," Masque fired back. "And if you had given me the time I needed, I would have been able to fix him."

"That's my ship, and she was a she," Captain Velwyn said as he stood before the soup pot.

"Even Cap' Macrina agrees with us," Gregor fired out as he walked towards the captain. "Looks like there's no more soup."

I looked down at my own food, listening to the conversations that went back to Davy Jones. I thought about the dream that I had the night before, knowing that it had something to do with George and Davy Jones.

The room was filled with chatter, voices drifting over each other.

"I be tellin' ye, Ol' Jones be comin'.."

"'ow many times do I 'ave t' tell ye nah t' say 'is name."

"Where's Goran or Leticia?"

"Not one clue, Cap'."

"Mom said that each ship he sinks, that he gets one step closer to finding his lost love."

"I heard that he takes them back to his locker, which is no longer on the dangerous seas. There, you can see land as far as the eye will take you."

Raising a spoonful of soup to my lips, my nose twitched at the flavors that exploded in my mouth. It seemed that our cooks were getting creative with the supplies that the saylors had left us.

"It's clearly false. Davy Jones' is just a tall tale." Mumbles of disagreement followed. "Seriously, have none of you heard of the pirate called David Jones?"

"He's a slave dealer. Heard that he likes the ones with red heads and that he can make a large buck selling them."

Laughter rang out at that. "Likes red heads?" Captain Velwyn inquired.

"I heard your so-called slave dealer likes to chop up his crew and put it into his stew," Kipling stated. "Wish we'd come across him. I'd love to see what the insides of the man looks like."

"You're all wrong. He ain't after our souls or treasure. He's not David Jones and he certainly is not a slaver." Emily sounded confident enough that I had to look up to her. "He's clearly Duffer Jones, the famous pirate who likes to fall from hsi black ship."

Instead of disagreements, I heard most agree. It surprised me as I never heard of Duffer Jones or knew how that could relate to Davy Jones and his Locker. But Kurt and Jekio also seemed to share the same idea as they jumped in on her.

"Ole Jones ain't some mere tale. He be as real as ye 'n I. A ghost that shall loot our souls. We shouldn't natter about 'im, or we'll brin' 'im upon us."

"Fer once I agree with this here bettle-wick. Davy Jones' tale be as real as the sky. 'e's out in the sea an' uses the fog to get to 'im."

I stared at the soup, wondering which of our tales about Davy Jones was the one to be true. 

[WORD COUNT: 65,653]