by Nelson Lynch
these days. There are a lot of British spies and sympathizers on the Shore. They may be loyal to that crazy King George.”
The Countess of Crisfield shook her head. “We are loyal Americans. My husband was with Washington at the battle of Smith Island.” She tried to keep a sneer from forming, but failed.
The Baron put one foot on the bench. Four toes and the heel were showing. “I served with General Lynch and the Assateague Beach Boys. We chased the British out of Chincoteague, Quinby and Temperanceville.” He paused and wiggled his toes. “We couldn’t even get a pint of corn whisky there.” He gave a sloppy military salute. “Baron Pine, at your service, Ma’am.”
The Duchess of Dorchester nodded and gave a weak smile. “My husband,” she placed her hand over her heart, “served under Col. Beau Boston on the wild frontier of Princess Anne. He said they were all heathens and Tories over there.” She turned, spit on the floor and gave a one finger hex sign. “I feel better already, staying with such a heroic crew.” She pointed at Joanna. “Hurry up with those three brandies.”
Joanna went to a cupboard, got four mis-matched cups and a clay jug with a corncob for a stopper. She carefully wiped out the cups with her apron and set them in front of customers. She removed the corn cob, ran her finger in the neck and then poured an inch and a quarter of clear fluid into the four cups. “This is my neighbor’s best brandy. He just ran it off last week.” She sniffed her cup. “Smells good.”
The Baron ran his cup under his nose a few times. “A delightful aroma. I think I detect apples and pears. What else?”
“The apples and pears were thrown into the mash near the end. They were half rotten and no one wanted them. The best taste is the hickory nuts that he picked up in the hog pen. A nice touch.” She sniffed one last time, gulped it down and walked into the kitchen.
The Duchess peered at the clear liquid. “Do you think it’s safe to drink?”
The Baron held his cup up while nodding his head. “Here’s to a fruitful and pleasant stay here and a safe journey tomorrow.”
The two women nodded briefly and gulped the drinks down.
The women went into coughing spasms, sweat form on their foreheads, tears came to their eyes and their cheeks became red.
Thirty seconds later, the Duchess set her cup on the table. “That was excellent. The best brandy I’ve had since I was in New York’s wine country.”
The Countess nodded her head. “I haven’t had any that good since I left Dames Quarter. But right now I want a dozen oysters on the half shell with a nice cold ale to wash them down. How does that sound?” She looked at the two nodding heads. “Innkeeper,” she yelled and beating the empty cup on the table. She waited a few seconds until Joanna stuck her head into the dining area. “We want three dozen prime oysters on the half-shell and three glasses of your best ale. None of this trash your neighbor made using hickory nuts from the hog pen. We want some of that good stuff brewed in Boston by old Samuel Adams.”
Joanna went into the yard and walked a few steps toward the barn. “Cash,” she yelled at the top to her lungs. “Get your lazy ass down from the loft and shuck three dozen oysters for our guest. Be quick about it if you want a tip.”
Cash appeared in the barn loft door pulling an overall’s strap over his shoulder. “I’ll get right on it. Three dozen of our best oysters.”
Joanna rolled her eyes and returned to the kitchen. She rinsed out three mugs and filled them with her one and only ale. She used her rear to open the door and then she set the ales on the table. “Here we are. Three of the best ales we have here at the Hogskull Tavern. Cash is opening your oysters right now.”
Ten minutes later, Cash came in with three wooden trays of oysters. He placed them in front of the three people and danced a few steps. “Here they are. In the Chincoteague Bay this morning and in your belly tonight.” He giggled and slapped his thigh.
The Baron flipped a nickel to Cash. “Get another three dozen and have Joanna steam them.”
Cash studied the nickel and then shuffled out of the room.
The Countess waited until the door closed. “I think our boy Cash was dropped on his head one time too many.” She slurped down two oysters in quick order. “Damm, they are delicious. I just hope Cash washed his hands. God knows what he’s been doing out in the barn.”
After each had eaten six oysters, the Baron banged his empty mug on the table. “Innkeeper, three more of your finest ale. It really hits the spot on this cold December night.”
The waited until Joanna brought three ales before eating more oysters. They were down to their last two oysters when the Duchess paused. She worked her jaws and lips and then removed something from her mouth. “I think I have a pearl.” A large black object was in the palm of her hand. She put it back in her mouth and cleaned it with her tongue. She took it out and held it up to the oil lamp. “It is. It’s a beautiful large black pearl. It’s the biggest pearl I’ve ever seen.” She let it roll around in her palm showing its perfect roundness and flawless surface. “It’s beautiful.”
The Countess’ face hardened and her eyes narrowed. She held out her hand. “Give it to me. It’s mine. I bought the oysters so give it to me.” She snapped her fingers and extended her palm farther.
The Duchess pushed back from the table. “What did you say? You want me to give you my pearl?” She clinched her hand into a tight fist. “Fat chance. It’s my pearl. It was in my oyster. I’m going to keep it.”
The Baron stood up from the table and extended his hand. “I think you should let me hold the pearl until the rightful owner is established.” He smiled broadly and kept nodding his head.
The Duchess stepped behind her chair. “Have you lost your fucking mind? You want me to give you, a perfect stranger, my pearl to keep until its ownership is established?”
The Baron walked a few steps around to the end of the table. He flexed his shoulders, his smile disappearing. “I may have to use a little gentle persuasion. That pearl will perfectly match my school tie.”
“Neither of you idiots is getting the pearl.” The Countess picked up a kitchen knife from the table. She started around the table with the knife in one hand and the other hand extended, palm up.
“Innkeeper,” the Duchess screamed. “Help! These fucking assholes are trying to kill me and steal my pearl. Help!”
An evil smile formed on the Countess’ face. “Did you hear what she called us? That’s enough reason for me to beat the living shit out of her.”
The Duchess had her mouth open to scream again, when the kitchen door flew open. Joanna stood there with Cash peering over her shoulder.
“What in the hell is going on in here? Who’s getting killed?” Joanna walked to the end of the table between the Duchess and the Countess.
“She has my pearl from my oysters and won’t give it to me.” The Countess used the knife to point at the Duchess. “The little twit called us vulgar names and won’t give me my pearl. I want it now.” She kept pointing with the knife.
Joanna thought for a few seconds and held out her hand. “Anything found in the tavern belongs to the tavern and that’s me. Give me the pearl and that will put everybody out of their misery. Hand it over.”
“Another fucking asshole.” The Duchess backed up a few more steps. “None of you Tory bastards is getting my pearl. My husband will bring this incident up with General Washington.”
“Now she is being insulting.” The Baron began walking slowly toward the Duchess. “Once I have the pearl safely in my pocket, I’ll turn her over my knee and teach her some manners.” He grinned widely. “I’m really looking forward to it.”
The Duchess opened her fist and looked at the beautiful black pearl. In one swift motion, she brought her hand to her mouth and swallowed.
The Countess froze in her tracks. “Did you see what that lunatic just did? The thief swallowed my beautiful black pearl.”
“Damm,” Joanna said.
“Damm,” the Baron said
“Hol
y Smoke,” Cash said, slapping his thigh and doing a few dance steps. “What’s going to happen to it now?”
The Baron went back a few steps and fell into his chair. “I don’t believe it. This fake Duchess swallowed my pearl. It’s gone. Her stomach will completely digest it. There won’t be anything but a black turd.”
The Countess threw the knife on the table and went back to her chair. “My pearl is gone. I can’t believe it.” She looked at the Baron. “How long do you think it will take to go through her?”
The Baron wrinkled his forehead. “She’s a little woman. I’d say one day, maybe a day and a half. Two days at the most.”
The Countess smacked her palm on the table making the oyster shells rattle. “Bring us two ales. None for that sorry twit. Bring those steamed oysters. I’ll take eighteen and the Baron will take eighteen. The sorry twit is not getting anything to drink or eat from me.”
The Duchess looked at the ceiling for thirty seconds before returning her gaze to Joanna. “Bring me another dozen oysters. Make sure they are unopened. I want Cash to open them at my table.” She stared at the ceiling again. “Bring me another of your best brandy.”
Five minutes later, Cash set two trays of steamed oysters on the table. He glanced at the Duchess. “I’ll be right back in a minute with yours.” He stomped his feet a few times and hurried into the kitchen.
The Countess took a long swallow of her ale. She set the
