Young Writers Society

It was decided on the ship that The Captain, Master Jones, and--at her insistence--Anne would go ashore to Jocelyn’s shanty in the swamp. This suited the remainder of the nervous crew just fine, and couldn’t seem to get the longboat into the water and away from the ship fast enough for their liking. Once aboard the small craft, the three of them made the slow row ashore to where the sorceress made her home. The longboat was docked against a small wooden dock, built in a half hazard fashion and anchored to the rickety steps leading up to an unwelcoming shack atop the landing. The three of them were quiet; Jones with fear, Anne with wonder, and Jack out of boredom. He didn’t know what Jones was so afraid of; Jocelyn was--for the most part--harmless when it came to visitors and customers. Just so long as you were nice to her.

When the three pirates were barely halfway up the stairs, the door swung open to reveal a rather short, Jamaican woman with a broom in one hand. Jones seemed to half expect her to mount the broom and fly away, but was disappointed when she simply swept off the top landing and took the broom back inside, paying them no mind. Jack followed the woman, whom the others assumed to be Jocelyn, into the hut, and Jones scrambled to follow Anne, not wanting to be left outside alone.

Inside, Jocelyn looked up and cackled, “Calico Jack Rackam! It be a long time since you last be comin’ to see me.” Jack returned the laugh with a smile and a slight bow. Formalities aside, Jocelyn jumped right in, “What you be wantin’, Jack?” she asked him in a bored tone, putting small wooden boxes onto the shelf beside the door. Jack pretended innocence as he answered her thick Jamaican accent with his own British edge, “Why, my dear. What on earth would give you the impression that I want something from you?”

Jocelyn gave him an amused look, “You be standing in my house. Dat be enough to say dat you be wantin’ something dat only I can be giving you,” Jocelyn leaned around him interestedly and took in the sight of the terrified first mate and the fascinated young girl standing in the doorway, looking around. Jocelyn smiled warmly and offered them a seat at the large, mahogany table in the center of the room. Jones declined as politely as possible, but Anne took the seat, looking around the room with large, excited eyes at the various odds and ends scattered across the table and on the walls around the room. Jocelyn laughed genially and turned back to Jack, who was still standing where she had left him. She put her hands on her hips and asked, “You still here, Calico Jack?” before going back to her work. Jack stayed silent and waited. After a few more minutes of silence, Jocelyn sighed and put the last box on the shelf, turning back around.

“You know dat I be demanding payment first? And dat you still be owin’ me payment from de last item you borrow from me?” She shot him an accusing look and walked around the table to a large, ornate chair facing the door and sat down, waiting for a reply. Without a word, Calico produced a brown leather bag and tossed it onto the table, “’E’re’s your payment,” he said. “Enough for last time and this one.”

Jocelyn rifled through the bad shamelessly and shook her head. “You be forgetting dat two years interest, Jack. Where be de payment for dis favor you be asking now?” she asked as she tucked the leather pouch inside her dress, never once taking her eyes off the Captain who stood before her. He took the spur in his stride and produced a second bag, larger than the first. Jocelyn ransacked it as well, before nodding slightly and dropping the bag onto the floor beside her chair, “De payment is fair,” she replied, and then focused her attention on Anne, who had watched the transaction in a calculating silence. “Anne Bonnie,” Jocelyn began, and Anne’s head snapped up at the mention of her name. Jocelyn continued, “You be doing good to be keeping friends close, Anne Bonnie. Dere be difficult times before you an’ enemies be comin’ into view.”

Anne nodded in understanding and couldn’t suppress a glance in Jack’s direction, hoping that he wasn’t the one she was referring to by trouble. Jocelyn smiled silently and shook her head ever so slightly, and Anne sighed in relief. Jocelyn turned to Jack suddenly and asked, “Where you be findin’ dis girl, Jack Rackam?”

Jack jumped slightly, but then grinned, “Saint Kitts,” he replied. “Best sailor I ever picked up out o’ tha’ ‘ell ‘ole.” Jocelyn shot Jack a knowing look, and he fidgeted slightly as Jocelyn asked, “What service may I do you,” in an undertone, she added so only Jack could hear, “that she cannot?”

“Never,” Jack hissed under his breath, just as softly, before replying in a somewhat more audible tone, “Your compass’s wha’ I want.”

“Why you be wantin’ it?” Jocelyn asked, intrigued.

“Tha’s not part of the trade, is it?” Jack countered with a small smile as Jocelyn’s approving laughter lightly filled the room, “Ye be learnin’, Jack Rackam. Ye knowin’ how to be after usin’ my compass, Jack?”

He nodded, “If you’ll be after telling me.”

Jocelyn shot Jack a smart look, “Now Jack. If you be wantin’ my compass, you must be knowin’ what it do.”

Anne inclined her head curiously at the small box Jocelyn produced from one of the many folds of her dress, “I think it shows you what you want. Whatever you want most in this world, or rather, its location.”

Jocylen laughed, “Exactly!” she turned to Jack again, “Wherever you find this one, Calico Jack,” she started, “Go and bring me one. She would be makin’ a fine assistant,” she winked and added, “If ye be willin’ to part with her.”

Jack shot her a dark look, and then glanced at Anne, who was once again surveying the room around her with wide, child-like eyes. He replied quietly, “I don’t think you’ll find another one like this anywhere, not just in Saint Kitts.”

Jocelyn shot Jack a knowing look, and he changed the subject nervously, “So, this compass shows what you want, whatever you want?”

“Yes,” Jocelyn replied in a bored, matter-of-fact tone, making Jack feel more than a bit stupid for what he had thought at first was a fairly good question. He sent another dark look in her direction, but remained silent. Anne tuned back into the conversation as Jocelyn tossed Jack the compass, saying, “See if it be workin’ for you, Jack Rackam.”

Jack obediently opened the compass and watched the needle spin. It spun uncontrollably, and then landed on southwest. Looking over discreetly, he saw Anne watching him inquisitively. Jack subsequently snapped the compass shut again, and said, “This compass doesn’t work.”

Jocylen laughed, “Calico Jack does not know what he wants. Or,” she dropped her voice a little, “Do you know, but are loathe to claim it as your own?” Jocylen let her eyes flicker to Anne, and then back to a very uncomfortable Jack accusingly, who swallowed and shook his head. Anne didn’t notice, as she had—yet again—turned her attention to other items in the cabin. Jones, however, had not. He grinned and shook his head. Calico shot him a poisonous look while Jocylen cackled hysterically, and took the compass back. Attracted by her laughter, Anne rejoined the conversation.

Jocylen shook her head and handed Anne the compass, “You I trust with this. Him may borrow it from you once in a while,” she tossed her head in Jack’s direction slightly, and Anne nodded obediently, putting the compass in her top coat pocket, making it nigh impossible for Jack to pilfer without her notice. He glowered. They were not going to make this easy.