Plundered Christmas (13 page)

Josie looked excited as her dad read the passage. “Can you say it again, Daddy?”

So James read the verses a second time.

“I figured it out!” she beamed.

Rather doubting that she had deciphered all the puzzles we had encountered since our arrival, I asked her to clarify what she had figured out.

“HLEF!”

As soon as she said that, my hubby looked down at his open Bible, a mixture of amazement and understanding dawning on his face. “HLEF.”

“His love endures forever,” they both said. It was part of the Bible verse.

They were still pleased with themselves when Charlie returned with a parchment wrapped in a protective envelope. Though the cover blurred some of the letters, I could still read it.

The year of our precious Lord, April, 1726

Father Joseph and James both do their best to comfort me. In Father Joseph's wisest moments, he says that the Lord and time will comfort me better than either man can. And, of course, the kisses and smiles of my sweet little Margo will keep me going in the meantime.

Not ten moons ago, James's search of the past three years, of which I knew nothing, reached fruition. He found my first child. Unfortunately, I would never lay eyes on my first born. He had perished from the small-pox at the age of four.

When James returned from a voyage, he seemed unusually solemn. Finally, through much temper and vexation, I pulled the truth from him. He had found the woman who had adopted my child in Hispaniola and had learned the truth from her. She had taken James to show him the little grave.

When I heard this vile news, I felt torn asunder. I had lost my boy twice. Once, in my own foolish and tempestuous youth. Secondly, in his own early death.

I wept. To say that I cried would be to say that it rains during a hurricane. I could not console myself, and I would not let others console me. I could not eat, and I barely slept. Little Margo would be sent in with the sweetest fruits to tempt me. She would pat on my belly and ask me to sing to little James as I did before.

However, my grief plunged me too deep. I did not even notice my little girl. James was a ghost, too, who walked in between my tears, trying to find the brave and strong Anne he knew.

Oh dear God! If I had noticed their attention and their pleas, would little James have lived?

So caught was I in mourning the first child of my womb that I did not notice that the child I carried within no longer moved. When did I cease to feel his kicking? I do not know. I could not tell morning from evening or fish from fruit. How could I have noticed the flutter that had made my heart catch for the joy of it was no more?

James was stillborn. The pain of the delivery, if anything, was worse than little Margo's own. I screamed in agony as his unmoving form tore through me. The screaming, somehow, released the grief over my first boy, little Mark, and transferred it to little James.

After my body began to heal from the ordeal, James and Father Joseph asked what I would like to do about the little body. I thought about the quiet spot near the southeast corner of the island. There my boys could rest easy. And I, their unworthy mother, could visit them and ask for forgiveness.

James journeyed to little Mark's grave with our crew and secreted away the bones in the dark of night so that he could be buried next to his brother.

With both small forms beneath the earth, Father Joseph found two sizable stones somewhere, perhaps from one of the nearby wrecks, and chiseled their names so that Margo's children generations away would remember my boys. She and I often walk by the little graves in the early morning when the rising sun cuts through the trees that surround their resting place. It makes the entire area look jewel-laden.

She squeezes my hand and tells me not to cry with such sincerity that I must obey her.

Father Joseph prays for the torments of my soul both past and present. He tells me that Jesus' mercy will give me grace and healing. The earnestness on his face when he tells me thus nearly mirrors that on my daughter's own. Their prayers and hope buoy James and me.

Truly, the Lord's mercy has done one miracle. I have learned recently that I am once again with child.

Writing these words has reopened wounds I would rather forget, Father. James has said he will bury them in such a place that you can only see them if you insist. He will bury them as the boys are buried so we can set this portion of our life to the past.

Instead, we will look forward and hope. As Father Joseph tells us nightly, His love endures forever and that forever love will continue to seek us.

Anne of Banet Island

“Poor thing,” I murmured. “What she had to go through!”

Josie looked at me as if I'd lost my marbles and tilted her head to one side. “Mom, are you forgetting who she was?” She looked at the words on the page. “I mean, I can tell she went through some really bad things. And it all sounds really hard. But didn't she maybe, I don't know, earn it?”

That sounded terribly harsh coming from my little girl.

But Charlie nodded. “She has a point, ma'am. You've only read two of the letters. You don't appear to know much of the official history of Anne Bonny.”

“Josie, we should never be judgmental of others. True, God forgives our sins, but we must live with the consequences of the choices we make.” I said and sighed. Did I really want to know what the other letters said? “Will it help me understand all this mess?”

“Maybe,” Charlie said. He settled into a chair near us. “As you might have gathered, she married James Bonny quite young, mostly because her father didn't like him. They moved away to the Bahamas where James, tired of pirating, became an informant. Well, Anne hadn't had a chance to pirate yet, so when a handsome pirate took to her, she ran off with him.”

“That pirate, a ladies' man and rogue who called himself Calico Jack, spoiled her, much like her father had done. He gave her the fanciest trinkets from their hauls and first choice from the booty. Anne had always had a hot temper and to get what she wanted, she became quite vicious. At first, none of the pirates other than Jack knew that Anne was a woman. She disguised herself as a man and did a man's work on the ship. She also was quite good with a firearm and a sword. During her years of piracy, she killed at least a dozen men and one woman who was a rival for a man she admired.

“For the crimes of murder and theft against the crown, she was sentenced to death when their ship was caught after a successful raid. She earned her punishment and would have been hung, had not she been discovered to be pregnant.”

“That would have been little Margo, right?” Josie asked.

The older man nodded. “You're a smart one there, missie.”

I had my suspicions. How and when did Josie learn all this? I didn't teach it to her, certainly. “How on earth did you just happen to know all this about Anne Bonny?”

She gave me a look that said it should be obvious. “Last year, Mom? I helped Justin and his group study to earn those compasses.”

Now Justin looked confused. “But there were only a couple of questions about the pirates and their links to the Bahamas and Charleston, or Charles Town, as it was called then.”

“I was prepared, just in case. I read everything that Mrs. Arthur had in the handouts so that if she expanded the question list, I could still quiz Justin and Mitch.” She looked at me a little sheepishly. “Besides, it was interesting. And you never know when something interesting might come in handy.”

Our long conversation caught the interest of Mary.

Charlie noticed her walking over, gestured for me to give him the parchment letter and quickly put the map away.

‘You all are so excited about your conversation that you're not even paying attention to the storm,” she scolded us.

I thought of many scathing comebacks, but as her mom was hurt, her cousin dead, and her aunt grieving, none seemed appropriate. Besides, she'd already been unexpectedly nice to me twice.

“My apologies, Miss Banet,” James said smoothly before I could get a word out. “We were actually trying
not
to focus on the storm. We have two children with us, as you know, and it is Christmas Day. I realize this has been a tragic twenty-four hours for you.”

“But, we should remain vigilant…”

James stood, and like a courtly gentleman, he took Mary by the elbow. “I understand, ma'am. I have been trained to handle such matters and even while in conversation I can listen to the circumstances around us. That is why I can tell that the storm has subsided somewhat at this time. Perhaps, you would like to help yourself to a little of the food on the sideboard? Or maybe take some to your mother?”

She said things like “well, yes” and “that makes sense” while he spoke. By the end, she had left us as if that's what she meant to do all along.

Then he turned to the rest of us. “Actually, food is probably a good idea. It's been a while since any of us ate, and it would be a shame to ignore all the work that Jeanine and Josie put in helping the kitchen crew.”

With that, he gave a grand sweep of his hand toward the food, as if an elegant butler.

I didn't need to be told twice. I hadn't eaten anything since the pfferneuse cookie that morning.

Well, maybe I had nibbled a little while I cut the celery. But that doesn't really count as a meal. I was starving.

 

 

 

 

9

 

After we ate, the kids remembered presents, so Margo agreed they should be delivered to the addressed recipients and open them before it got too dark.

Josie showed me the packages from William to various people. “Let's just hide those until later,” I whispered. “Opening a present from him might be too much for somebody right now.”

For each of the kids there was a stocking addressed to them, which said, “from Santa.” They knew this “Santa” was their grandpa, so they went up and hugged him thank you after they pulled out the candy, small toys, and a book for each of them. The hug woke up, but pleasantly surprised, my dad who didn't know if they would still enjoy the tradition.

Margo had given each of them an expensive sweater. She must have asked my father their sizes, because they did fit. I could see Josie wearing hers to church with her velvet skirt, but wasn't sure when or if Justin would ever wear his. He just wasn't a fancy type of kid. But they both thanked her.

She gave James and me a gift card to eat at an upscale restaurant not too far from our house. We thanked her, quite honestly, because we had heard good things about it, but had never gone. It seemed kind of nuts to pay one week's worth of food cost for the entire family for one night of dinner for the two of us. But that didn't mean I wouldn't enjoy it with my best guy. And Ann Selkirk would eagerly watch my two just to get a report on whether it was as fancy as the advertisements portrayed.

I saw people tasting my brownies. But after they chewed and swallowed and then grabbed a second, I guessed I did all right. I had made enough trays so that even Charlie, Captain Blake, Frau Schmidt, and Juliana got one. I knew from having worked with Frau Schmidt in the kitchen that Margo gave them each a bonus check. Still, that didn't seem quite enough to miss out on their own Christmases. I hoped that by including them in ours it made things a little happier for them in spite of everything.

Mary gave her mother a fancy shawl that she had her eye on when they did the Black Friday shopping.

Margo returned the favor and had splurged on an evening gown for Mary.

Mary had purchased for her aunt a collection of books with matching videos that seemed a big hit in spite of her sorrow.

All in all, opening the presents and remembering that it was Christmas seemed to help everyone.

After that, we grazed on what food there was available for our Christmas dinner.

Margo asked Frau Schmidt to bring out several bottles of sparkling grape juice and we all did the Tiny Tim toast. The first group said: Merry Christmas! And the rest of us said: God bless us…everyone!

By that time, especially with only the fire, candles, and flashlights to light the night, people began to find their ways to the spots they had chosen the night before.

Charlie insisted that he was fine and moved to a spot near Captain Blake.

Our other invalid, Margo, seemed worse instead of better. She had put on a brave front most of the day, but I noticed that she had shortened the times between asking Mary for the pain medicine. She also cradled the arm attached to the wounded shoulder. The way she moved looked as if the arm itself hurt, but I guess it was because of how things are attached to each other in that part of the body. Anyway, because of all those things, we gave her the larger of the three couches again and designated the loveseat for those who would take turns checking on her.

The third couch had been relocated over to the fire, probably because of my earlier comment about the lack of seating in the warmest area of the room. This was fine, except I wasn't going to be able to take advantage of it from my established sleeping position under the tree.

Before I could turn in for the night, I had to take the dog out. Since the weather still wasn't the greatest, I urged the kids to stay inside. James and I would take care of the pooch doing his business as we had a better idea of what weather conditions to look out for.

Since I had worn my jacket non-stop since yesterday afternoon, I ducked into our assigned bedroom to find some extra layers. I lay the jacket over the bed as I looked through the suitcase for something warm. As I knew I might take off my current clothes, I had shut the door behind me. While putting a shirt over the top of what I had on, I heard arguing. I have an eternal case of the curious, so I stopped what I was doing so that I wouldn't make a sound and listened.

“Are you sure he had it?” said a man's voice. It didn't sound like anyone I had met, but with walls between us, it could have been.