The lost pearl (Pirates of the Caribbean)

Sea

The port in any normal circumstances, this time of day would be filled with nomerous merchants, selling all kinds of fresh goods imported from the cargo ships that same morning and all sorts of young children on their way to school. The less fortunate ones would still show their face, sitting on the edge of the pavement with their hands reached towards the stream of people passing by, selling home made products worth a penny in order to make a living. The 200th anniversary of the Port Royal soldier unit was an occasion not missed to through a three hour celebration along with some wise words from the local priest and richest man in Port Royal, about the importance of unity in the community against the seven sins and of course, pirates. The event went flawlessly and no unexpected event occurred to disrupt the beautiful day. Or so I assume. I wasn't really listening or paying attention to anything else that those red suits, walking sideways and then forwards, back to back again and again while trying to look as serious as possible with sweat dripping down their foreheads. Terribly humorous from my point of view and believe me when I say it took all of me not to burst out in very unattractive laughter. Today rows and rows of chairs were occupied by the handful of people invited to the anniversary, almost all of them with a smile on their face in recognition that just the invitation meant that they were important to the community. After the ceremony, I find myself standing alone in the middle of it all, just above the crowd on the concrete stairs, dressed up like a stiff doll in the newest attire sent in from Paris. A sea blue skirt reaching down to my heels and a woolen white top with sown colourful flowers on the front. No puff sleeves and no corset. Modern indeed.

Amongst the hurdle of red uniforms I see a glimpse of his slick back hair and I try my very best to direct my attention elsewhere but as usual I need take a moment to compose myself. Somehow my eyes won't take rational orders and always end up in the same spot when he is close. Most likely devouring in an important conversations about the prosperity of our land and the state of our economy with his superiors he catches my eye through the crowd and his lips widen in surprise. No doubt he thought I would somehow manage to sway Russell my stepfather from forcing me to attend. Social gatherings like these ones aren't my scene I would try to explain but my opposition would be told to deaf ears. Nice girls aren't supposed to behave like this. Russell still tries to force on me the codes and rules he learned in his own upbringing and training in the army, as a general in the Port Royal army he'd like to set the example to all of the citizens. To quote him; how could anyone take him the least bit seriously if they knew that the commander of the army couldn't even control a little girl. Still I feel it would be even more embarrassing if the public knew that Crowe, the general of the Port Royal army hadn't realized something obvious yet. That I'm nowhere near being a nice girl.

I feel someone near me cough and it doesn't disrupt my composure one bit. I knew he'd eventually make his way over to me. Just like he always does.

"Congratulations Mr. Pine, a beautiful ceremony".

I take a sip of the cold apple champagne taking in the scenery in front of me. The chatter of the people and the fluffy dresses of the women, all the same dull colours with all the same dull conversations. Christopher peers his eyes at me through the morning sun and rests his body against the collum that separates us. From the edge of my vision I notice a group of women together in a pack, sending murderous glares our way undoubtedly scolding at me for taking his attention away from them. Some of them went to school with us and in the back of my mind I remember them following his trail like lost puppies for years. Not once do I recall him repaying their affection. His eyes were set elsewhere.

"As always your sarcasm is well appreciated" Christopher says and after that we stay silent for a while. I can't help but think that on these few occasions when we are seen together how comfortable it is not having have to hide behind a mold of a persona society has created which I'm obliged to fit in. Not that I do. My honesty and recklessness has brought me nothing but trouble over these past few years but still, it is expected of me. I look up at his face, tan from outdoor work and his clean shaved cheeks. Our eyes intertwine in a meaningless gaze and soon enough we can't help but laugh.