The Pirate Queen

by Patricia Hickman

  “Maybe so,” said Saphora. She told Sherry good night and then secluded herself out on the deck. The Neuse pushed the rain on past Oriental’s swelling banks toward the sound. She would take Eddie and Tobias bank fishing in the morning after pancakes.

  Sherry was a good wife and mother. Her husband, Jerry, raked in a small salary repairing engines for a Nissan car dealership. Sherry invited him along every year for the Warrens’ Christmas party. He was a lanky black fellow, a little shy around the Warren men’s boisterous storytelling. Their son, Malcolm, looked like both of them.

  Not living under the Warren roof gave Sherry a different perspective about them. She did not seem to notice the distance between Bender and Saphora, inserting herself into the gap between them naturally, as if it were a part of the job description. Or maybe she knew more than she admitted. It could be that her comment about snuggling up next to Bender was her way of trying to salvage what had been dead for many years. Sherry was an expert enabler, of that she was certain.

  A pinging sound caught Saphora’s attention. She thought it was the clanging of a bait pail down on the river. She finished the first quarter sandwich, dripping with yellow yolk. The sound continued and was too curious to ignore. She got up and leaned over the balcony. It was coming from the next-door neighbor’s yard again—that shoveling sound. It had to be the man she had met this afternoon. Luke, wasn’t it?

  Eddie and Tobias were two windows down. If she called out to Luke they would stir and possibly come running down the hall, excited by late-night commotion. She sat back in her chair and started another quarter of the sandwich.

  Whatever Luke was doing, he certainly waited late to start. The rain had softened the ground, which could be why he decided to plant so late. Maybe he was like Captain Bart, planting beans by moonlight.

  She lost interest in the sandwich. The egg had gotten cold. She got up and went inside, where she pulled on dry cotton socks. The next thing she knew she was tying on her running shoes and slipping down the hall. Sherry’s light was off, and the boys had fallen so quiet that they were either sleeping or feigning sleep.

  She crept down the staircase and across the floor to the kitchen. Sherry had locked up the house. Saphora unlatched the french door and felt a breeze licking her bare calves as she walked into the night air.

  The dampness left in the air smelled like air-dried laundry. Not even the mosquitoes had ventured out yet following the storm. The moon was bright as daylight, so she could see to walk around the boys’ bicycles and soccer ball. The tree limbs dripped rain onto her scalp as she inched toward the gate at the side of the house. A bullfrog made the only definable sound besides the tailwinds tangling in the trees.

  Near the gate Luke’s shoveling was without question. Even a faint male groan was discernible as he pushed the tip of the shovel into the newly dampened ground. She tried the latch on the gate. It was rusted and resisted the pressure she put on it. Finally it squeaked and opened, clanking free.

  The sound of shoveling stopped.

  She did not open the gate immediately. Now she was feeling like a kid trying to see into the neighbor’s business. She had just about decided to turn and run back across her lawn when the gate opened slowly but wide, Luke standing in the middle. Saphora gasped.

  “I thought I heard something,” said Luke.

  “I feel like an idiot,” she said. “I heard a noise, then the next thing I know, here I am sneaking into your yard.”

  “I’ve wondered if this gate was ever opened.”

  “Since I know it’s you, I won’t disturb you,” she said.

  “You’re not disturbing me,” he said. He clearly held a shovel in his hand.

  “I’ve heard of planting by moonlight,” she said. “The ground should be nice and soft.”

  “It’s not as easy as it looks,” he said.

  “So you are a gardener,” she said.

  “I’m sorry if I was bothering you. I work all day in my studio making pottery. I don’t have time to do much else unless I do it at night,” he said.

  “You’re an artist. You should show me your pottery sometime. I collect pieces.” By that, she meant she had bought two pieces with the intent to begin collecting. But her idea had fallen by the wayside. “Who knows but what I’ve bought your work,” said Saphora.

  “I’ll show you,” he said, “sometime.”

  It was evident to Saphora that Luke was not inviting her over at this late hour. She apologized again for disturbing him. “I’ll see you then,” she said. She closed up the gate and locked it shut.

  She was under Eddie’s tree house when the sound of shoveling started up again. The moon was full. It had to be beans he was planting.

  When Saphora woke up, the smell of pancakes was already coming up the stairs. Sherry had an odd sense about her, always a step ahead of Saphora. Saphora slipped into a pair of shorts and a tank top and headed downstairs.

  Eddie sat next to his grandfather, eating pancakes and laughing at Tobias. “Morning, Nana,” said Eddie. “Tobias is trying to make me believe pirates are in the neighborhood.”

  “It’s fun to believe,” said Saphora. “I need coffee. Sherry?”

  Sherry pointed to the empty cup next to the coffeepot. “You were up late.”

  “I couldn’t sleep.”

  “You saw him, didn’t you, Mrs. W?” asked Tobias.

  “Who, Tobias?”

  “The next-door pirate,” said Tobias.

  “Is there more syrup, Sherry?” asked Bender. “I heard you up last night too, Saphora.”

  “I took a walk,” said Saphora.

  “You met the pirate,” said Tobias. “You talked to him through the fence.”

  “Luke’s not a pirate,” said Saphora. “Is this a game?”

  “He digs every night,” said Tobias. “For treasure.”

  “Luke’s a gardener. Some people believe if you plant by moonlight, your plants will grow better,” said Saphora.

  “Who’s Luke?” asked Bender.

  “The next-door neighbor,” said Eddie.

  “If he gardens by moonlight, wouldn’t that be odd?” asked Bender.

  “I can see him from the end window,” said Tobias. “He’s not planting. Just digging.”

  “You don’t know,” said Eddie. “Nana, he doesn’t know.”

  Saphora had not been able to see Luke from her window. The tree blocked her view. “You can see Luke from Eddie’s window?” Of course, Eddie’s room was on Luke’s side of the house directly over the library, where Bender slept.

  “Every night I’ve stayed over. He digs with a shovel. I can see him come out of his house and then he digs in the far corner. I watch him plain as day,” said Tobias.

  “You think he’s digging for treasure?” asked Bender.

  “He’s planting beans,” said Saphora. “And he’s a nice person. Not strange.”

  Sherry brought warmed syrup to the table. “My grandmother used to plant by the moon’s phases. I didn’t think that meant she had to actually garden at night.”

  “Captain Bart gardens by moonlight,” said Saphora.

  “He’s a very strange man,” said Bender. He pushed away from the table. “He once told me he practiced nude gardening.”

  “How do you know Captain Bart?” asked Saphora.

  “I’ve sailed from here, Saphora. You know that,” said Bender.

  Eddie and Tobias laughed. Eddie spit milk back into his glass. He repeated, “Nude gardening,” and then Tobias echoed it. Eddie was laughing in spasms, snorting and sucking milk in and out of the glass.

  “Your grandpa’s making that up,” said Saphora. Captain Bart was not the type.

  “Time for your meds, Dr. Warren,” said Sherry.

  “I’ll take them in the library,” said Bender.

  Saphora got up to offer help.

  “I can manage it,” said Bender. He filled a glass with water and excused himself to his forced asylum.

  Saphora froze, her offer
dismissed and she feeling objectified.

  Sherry stood between Saphora and the library, a pained look on her face. “I’m sorry,” she mouthed, noticing how hard Saphora genuinely tried to help him.

  Saphora was quick to bring attention back to the boys. “I’m offering two extra seats on the riverbank for a front row to fish,” said Saphora.

  “We’re playing video games,” said Eddie.

  “I’d rather fish,” said Tobias. He got out of his chair and took his half-eaten pancake to Sherry. “That’s all I can eat,” he said.

  “You eat like a little bird,” Sherry told him.

  “I need to call my mom. Maybe she’ll let me stay if you mean we’ll fish,” Tobias said to Saphora.

  Eddie was disappointed.

  “You can play video games anytime, Eddie,” said Saphora.

  He showed his exasperation by shoving his ball cap back onto his head. “I’ll fish. It’s boring, but I’ll fish,” he said. Tobias was not going to be a boy Eddie could rule over.

  “Don’t forget to be back in two hours, Tobias. I promised your mother you’d not miss your next dose of meds,” said Sherry.

  Saphora let the boys set up the lawn chairs on the shoreline, spacing them for optimum room. She didn’t want one of them snagging her or each other on a hook.

  She didn’t bother putting on her waders or boots. The river was running too fast for wading. She gave each boy a rod and reel and a packet of bobbers. “Eddie, you show Tobias how to tie on his lure.” She walked farther up the bank and tied a trout fly onto her string. The river was brown and murky after the rain. She made two casts, finally hitting the hole she had spotted. A flicker on the line, and she balanced her feet on the bank. The end of her rod quivered and then a tail was in the air.

  Eddie was shrieking and running up the bank toward her.

  “Don’t distract me!” she said, laughing. She and Marcy had made a couple of trips along the mountain streams in the past two spring seasons with not a single bite from the trout. Those fruitless trips must have increased her odds for this fast strike.

  She wound the reel softly. She had always felt the feminine touch was the best strategy for waiting out a big rainbow. The trout was pretty and green, no doubt camouflaged for a season under the dark green river water. He fought her every time she pulled him a little closer to the bank.

  It took a half hour of patience. Three men down the shoreline came up to watch, a hunting dog lapping alongside them. As she pulled the pretty boy out of the water, Eddie scooped it into the net. He was shouting so loudly he set the dog to barking.

  “We need another one this size,” said Saphora. “Go and catch one for Nana, Eddie.” The fish was at least two pounds. She reached into the fish’s mouth and slowly pulled out the bright gold hook.

  Eddie dropped the trout into Saphora’s basket. He skidded back down the bank, although he did not look quite as confident. He had never reeled in a keeper. He swore there was a fish the size of his leg that hid down in the marsh grass. He talked about it so much that Bender had named Eddie’s mythical fish Big Indifferent.

  Tobias did not follow along after Eddie. He wanted another look at Saphora’s trout. She opened the basket, keeping watch for the species’ tendency to try to beat its way loose again.

  “You’re not a girlie girl, are you, Mrs. W?” asked Tobias.

  “If by that you mean I’m a manly girl, not exactly true. I’m closer to girlie, Tobias. I buy too many shoes just like the other girls.”

  “My mom would never reach in a fish’s mouth and take out a hook.”

  “It’s cruel to leave it in.”

  “She wouldn’t want to hurt it, so maybe you could tell her. Could you show my mom how to fish?” he asked.

  “Is that so she’ll take you?”

  “If you’d show her.”

  “I’m glad to, Tobias, if she’s interested.”

  Tobias’s mother had not been by often, what with him riding his bike down to the house. “Maybe she would come over for dinner,” said Saphora.

  Tobias was clicking the handle of his rod, releasing his lure into the water and then bringing it back up. “She’s picking me up today anyway.”

  Saphora brought her line out of the water. “Tobias, I’ve never asked you about your illness. That would be nosy. But I don’t want you to think it’s because I don’t care.”

  “Can you call her when we get back?” he asked.

  “Maybe your mom and dad would like to help us eat this fish tonight,” she said.

  “It’s just her. Daddy’s gone back to Wilmington. For work, he says.”

  “Then you’d better catch us some more fish.”

  Tobias returned to the spot just a few yards from Eddie. His thin frame made his eyes look exotic. He was thin, yes, but she would not have thought him sickly.

  Tobias cast his line awkwardly into the water. Then she came alongside him to show him how to reel and then recast. “If you don’t want to talk about your sickness, Tobias, I won’t ask,” she said.

  Tobias looked down where Eddie was dropping his line. “Do you care if I play with him?”

  “Of course not. Whoever would say such a thing?”

  “Thanks, Mrs. W. I’m careful not to make anyone else around me sick. I don’t know how I got born with what I have. But it makes some people mad.”

  “Ridiculous! Look, your bobber just went under. Reel, Tobias!”

  8

  While I know myself as a creation of God, I am also obligated to realize and remember that everyone else and everything else are also God’s creation.

  MAYA ANGELOU, Wouldn’t Take Nothing for My Journey Now

  Tobias was giddy all afternoon waiting for his mother to show up. His father was semiretired in Wilmington, working in computer software, and had gone home, leaving Jamie and Tobias to stay at their beachside cottage. Eddie was relieved as he subsisted lonely and without cousins until Friday.

  Jamie sat beside Saphora out on the lower deck. The radio was blaring since the boys had turned it up loud. Saphora was about to turn it off when Jamie told her, “Wait. That’s my favorite song.”

  Saphora turned it down but not off. “I know this song.”

  “Joni Mitchell. She was amazing,” said Jamie.

  Saphora was trying to recall another of that singer’s songs when Sherry came out and announced, “We have Bass à la Tobias and Trout Saphora. Plus a lasagna if you don’t like fish.”

  “I still can’t believe Toby caught a fish,” said Jamie.

  “He reeled him in with hardly any help,” said Saphora.

  Eddie was melancholy about Tobias’s conquest since he still had never brought in a fish. So Saphora said, “Eddie will catch the next one.”

  Bender came out, dutifully carrying a casserole dish. “Stay around too long and Sherry puts you to work.” His hair was growing out since the surgery, and he had long ago ditched the ball cap. His smile had returned too, especially in the presence of women.

  Jamie kept worrying over Tobias staying up in the tree with Eddie. “I hope he doesn’t stay over too much, wear out his welcome.”

  “Not at all, Jamie. He keeps Eddie occupied. Eddie’s an only child, so it’s good to have a friend around to remind him he’s not the only fish in the pond,” said Saphora.

  “Toby’s had such stomach problems. Has he complained?” asked Jamie. “I worry about him being exposed to dirt, to dirty water, to other sick people. All I do is worry.”

  “Hasn’t complained to me. We like having him around. Let him be a boy.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course! Do you have any other children?”

  “No. We’d intended to, but … we …”

  “No need to explain,” said Saphora.

  “Tobias wasn’t really planned.”

  Saphora raised an eyebrow. “How does that happen?”

  “Well, one night we saw a special TV show on adoptions. You know they’re out to manipulate your e
motions for a worthy cause. Mel’s got such a soft spot for needy creatures, that is, as long as I take care of them afterward. He adopted a rescued Pomeranian from the pound. Of course, I’m the dog walker and feeder. The day Mel walked in the door with a skinny boy, though, I nearly died.”

  “He didn’t ask first?”

  “Mel called it a temporary situation. His friend had met Tobias when his company sponsored a group of foster kids at a Christmas party. That was when he met Tobias. He was quite taken with Tobias. But the friend’s job took him traveling so much that he couldn’t seriously consider helping Toby.”

  “So he called Mel,” said Saphora.

  “It was love at first sight, at least for me. We kept Toby just for the weekend. It was his birthday. His caseworker said she always tried to place her kids in a temporary home at least on the day of their birthdays.”

  “Sneaky, isn’t she?”

  “Very.”

  “How’s the Pomeranian?”

  “You’d think he and Toby had grown up together. When Toby’s down here with Eddie, Fang sits and stares out the window all day long watching for him.”

  “Fang?”

  “He has this crooked tooth right in front. Mel says it gives him character.”

  “Tell Tobias he can bring Fang with him to see Eddie.”

  “I wouldn’t do that to you. Fang’s getting old. He has to wear a bellyband now for doggie incontinence.”

  “They’ll be putting a bellyband on this old girl one of these days.”

  “You don’t look a day over thirty-five.”

  “Sherry, give this woman extra helpings,” said Saphora.

  Sherry called Eddie and Tobias out of the tree house.

  “I could use an extra mate or two Saturday, Jamie. Would you and Tobias like to join us sailing?” asked Saphora.

  Eddie came running up onto the deck. “Tobias is on the floor of the tree house, Nana. He says he can’t get up.”

  Bender climbed up into the tree house and brought Tobias down. Tobias talked quietly to Bender, answering his questions. Bender took him inside and laid him on his hospital bed in the library. Tobias was so limp Jamie gasped at the sight of him. He never stopped smiling.