The Queen of Pirates

   Long ago, who knows when, there was a pirate, a scourge, one vicious young girl. She grew up on a pirate ship. It was all she ever knew, how to kill, to rob, to burn, and how to hide the win. She was short, with skinny crooked legs. She could’ve died in childhood when sickness came… But she survived. All she could be proud of was her dark long hair and black sparkling eyes. When someone saw her smile they could not help but smile, and so one rugged fellow tried his moves on her and went straight to hell, because she killed him, and spilled his blood for the rest to fear. She was the daughter of a captain, lost at sea by Garcia Island.

Oh, she was strong! Fast! Merciless, like a whip. She used to cross the ropes, get on another ship, and plunder to the end. This pirate in a skirt discounted lives like sand on a beach. One night they reached the Fjord, a little city with lots of riches on the East Coast. Her knife went changing God’s plans, but then she froze seeing behind an open window a guy, a young fellow with blue eyes. He smiled, his eyes questioning, “Why?”. A quill was in his hand… She jumped in, looked around, put her knife down, and greened… She left at dawn, without looking back at all, with a baby in her bosom. The baby was to be a girl.

There followed an uproar among the pirates. They envied her, and couldn’t forgive her for the torment. She chose a total stranger above her crew. She shut a few big mouths that day, she slew them with her knife. In time the queen had the baby and still missed a fellow with blue eyes. So one night she steered the ship back to Fjord and they all got trapped and thrown in jail. The colonel took away her infant. She screamed through the bars “She’s poet’s child, she’s his!”, and so they parted. The queen of pirates broke free, somehow, and freed some of her crew. They went back to sea, but she was soon overthrown. Her team left her alone on a distant island with no way to live, and no chances to escape.

She still was strong, so she survived again, just talking to the stars and catching fish, by loving waves, their folds forever blue, like those sweet eyes…She dreamed of them a lot. Days flew like winds, she soon turned old. Decade, another passed, there was no sign, no hope. Her blurry eyes couldn’t see a whale from the boat. She slept in a hammock hanging off the palms, she lost her zeal, she was sad, she dreamed of days when power was hers, and hers was stranger’s love. She thought of a girl with shiny little curls, “What’s up with her? Where’s she? Did he receive her, did he take her in? My precious child… “

Her precious child did grow up all right in the poet’s house, loved beyond compare, all cultured, groomed, so sweet and stubborn too, was strong, and fast, with wit beyond her age. One day she looked for something else to read and stumbled over this…The poet’s diary… Her father wrote of the strange encounter, of full of passion night, of eyes remembered long since the pirates’ ship was gone, of little bundle, wrapped in handkerchief with his initials. The bundle was his child…

The young lady took the news in. Without delay, she went to the colonel, and he told her it was true. He also heard rumors recently among the prisoners that pirates berried the queen on a distant island, Garcia it’s called.
Her father learned of that, and, sadly, passed away. His gentle heart could not withstand the fallen dream of seeing her again. The young lady soon married a captain. As they traveled to Europe, she asked to visit the island of Garcia, to see her mother’s grave, to find that last sure proof of her unusual roots.

That was a sight she had never seen before. Sharp slopes bombed with waves, storm-weathered trees, wild shores, no footsteps there. She’s looking for the grave, a stone, a cross, a hill. No, nothing. She’s asking to proceed yet farther into the woods. Right there they spotted a woman in her sleep. The hammock is tattered. Half naked, total brute, the creature moaned, the knife was in her grip. Then, she woke up and noticed the crew around her and a young lady in a nice dress. She thought she dreamed, but then she screamed, and trembled, and ran away! They searched all day, but couldn’t find a trace.

The young lady is puzzled, “Where is the grave? Who is this woman scared of the human race?” She stood by the hammock, a tear in her eye, and left her handkerchief with two initials. The morning sun did rise, the ship was ready to swim away, and the crew prepared to sail. Two wild dark eyes were watching every move from the hiding. The queen was not used to people after decades of loneliness, she feared them tremendously, despite wanting to be saved...

“Alright, they are departing… I can return to my beloved nook. Then, if only I can, I should disclose myself, and sail back with them…” She reached her hammock. ” What smells so sweet? A handkerchief? What’s this? O, holly! This is the poet’s name!”
The ship raised sails, there’s captain’s wife on board, still looking toward the Island,”O, dear, look who’s there! That woman! I hear her scream! She’s waving my handkerchief!”

To make this story short, the young lady was your great-great-grandma. That’s how our kin began, but that’s not all. The pirate’s queen hid her true persona to not be sent to jail. Her daughter did not ask, she simply knew, from the way the wild lady held that handkerchief, and kept repeating the poet’s name in her sleep. The young lady bought for her a house in England, on a shore, and visited sometimes. Decade, another passed, and the “queen” fell very ill, but passed on her secret. On Garcia Island, she left a treasure chest with diamonds filled and silver, gold trinkets, coins, and purls. Then war did start, calamity, unease. Not one of us did ever see Garcia where deep below tattered that hammock big reaches lay untouched under the lock. I’m old, my dear, I will never go. You have to find the treasure.”

So she said to my grandfather, who then was her son. He’s been long lost at sea, somewhere by Garcia.