Tavern Sisters Take A Stand

After the East India Trading Company came to be and started taking over our seas, Tortuga changed dramatically. The majority of the pirates were caught, or went out of the business to prevent from being caught and hanged. Life in Tortuga took a turn for the worst. Without any ships to repair, my father's ship building business was all but gone. He started doing any carpentry work he could gets his hands on, even resorted to building barrels for the few ships that came to port. People started hopping on ships and moving off the island, heading for the new colonies, leaving Tortuga almost a ghost town of empty buildings and boarded up shops. One of those leaving was our old bar owner at the Tavern, giving the bar to me as he left.

"Ye've been a great help to me, but I cannot stay any longer. I'm too old for this life now. I'm going to join me daughter on the main land." he said as he handed me the large wrought iron key to the bar, "Good luck, Anna. The bar is yours."

I took that old key and tried to make the best of things.

So, I was pulling double shifts at the Tavern, and even Shay came to work at the Tavern once she turned 16 to help with supporting our family. We would overhear stories from the remaining sailors and few pirate patrons as we went about our work. These remaining pirates weren't the easy-going, somewhat peaceful lot I was used to. They were rough, and mean, and often tried to overtake the bar while I was running it, or tried taking advantage of my sister and I, so I almost always came in brandishing at least one kind of weapon, be it a sword or pistol, and always kept a dirk hidden in the top flap of my tall, black boots while I was serving. I kept an extra pistol behind the counter with my sister, never letting her past the main bar, and had taught her how to USE it, just in case. The men were scraggly, unkempt, and tough looking, and would often yank my plaid tartan skirt to get my attention to refill their mugs or try to pull me around by my long hair to get me to sit in their laps...I would just yank back, pull loose of their grips, and keep going. Until one day I got tired of it. I put boots similar to mine on my sister, giving her another dirk to hide in them, and pulled her curly blonde hair back into a beaded kerchief to keep it out of the reach of the men. I kept my long cotton shirt on, but chose to not wear my bodice. I left the skirts behind for the day, trading them instead for a pair of britchees, a baldric and a polished steel cutlass, and braided back my long red and blonde-streaked hair into several strands of braided cord and beads which I had whittled from scraps of wood from the shop. I tucked my shirt into my black britchees, and wore a black vest instead, using it to cover the pistol I had wrapped tightly in my dingy-white sash. The regulars had a hoot with that, instead of telling their usual pirate and treasure tales, they were teasing me, and trying to take my sword from my belt. One big brute of a man got up from his chair, raised his hands, and threw the mug he had been drinking from, sending it crashing and shattering only inches away from my head, as rum splattered all over the wall and floor. Shay's eyes grew wide, and she ducked behind the bar as a long, loud voice came from behind me as I was giving an annoyed look at the mess.

Great, more for me to clean up tonight...

"Anne!!! Ye getting too slow on refilling my rum, lass! If ye be payin' attention to yer customers instead of trying to look like a lad, then ye might make better around here! Ye might even find ye a MAN who could stand ya!" bellowed the man. It was Bart, a frequent visitor to the Tavern, who was always getting on my nerves in one way or another. Great...

I turned to face him, and found all eyes staring my way, watching to see what I'd do. I began talking, in a low, soft tone...

"Bart, first off, I only wear these britchees to keep your GRUBBY hands off my skirts. Second off, I don't want a man from these parts because they are all filthy idiots, LIKE YOU, and thirdly, you haven't paid me in WEEKS, so WHY should I pay attention to refilling your mug, the one you just broke by the way, and I should make YOU pick up the shards from the floor!"

By the time I got done, I was shouting, and Bart was fuming! He lunged towards me, and I pulled my sword, dashed to the side, and punched my elbow into his back with every bit of strength I had, sending him crashing a heap to the floor. I jumped, landing my knees into his chest, my sword at his throat, and my other hand poised ready to grab my pistol if he dared move.

The other men started to get up from their tables when Shay came out from behind the bar holding two of my largest blunderbuss pistols, stood before them all as she lifted the pistols up from her side, pointing them at the crowd, her eyes and face clearly indicating that she meant business!

"I wouldn't do that if I were you all..."

She looked MENACING! Good girl, I thought. I taught her well!

A pirate near the front stepped one small shuffling step forward towards Shay, and I pulled my pistol behind my vest from my sash, keeping my eyes on the shocked and drunken Bart that still lay below me and got to my feet, keeping the blade of my cutlass right below the whiskers on his stubbly black beard.

The pirate spoke to my sister, "Awww now come on luv, you can't tell us that ye expect us to believe that you can really use those things, now do ye?" He took another small step towards my sister.

"TRY ME!" shouted Shay, as she cocked the guns, simultaniously as I raised mine and cocked it in the direction of the sound.

The pirate's eyes went wide, and he backed up a step. Good idea considering he had three cocked pistols pointed directly at him!

"I don't suggest ye try either of us mister, and that goes for the lot of ya." I said as I finally turned my head, glaring angrily at them all, "I want you all to take yer seats, and don't even think about moving one inch towards my sister, or I WILL make ye pay for it!" My Irish accent and the pirate talk I tried so hard to avoid only came out when I was mad, and it was annoying to me that I was to the point of speaking that way. I rolled my eyes.

They all sat silently, and Shay kept the pistols on them, as I turned my attention back to Bart.

"And you...I want the pay you owe me, and for the mess ye've caused," I reached down and grabbed the worn leather sack at his side that was full of gold coins, ripped the string holding it, and jiggled it, "That ought about do it...now GET OUT OF MY BAR! And I don't want to see you back in here, ye hear me?"

I let go of the stunned pirate, and he clambered to his feet, stumbling in his drunken daze out the door, never looking back.

" And as for the rest of ye, get out. I'm closing early tonight."

Groans and moans came from the crowd of men as they left and drunkedly walked down the near empty, dimly lit main street and disappeared into the fog. I pulled the heavy wooden door to and lowered the beam, closing the door to the bar and locking the big brass lock, and placed the old iron key back into the hidden pocket of the inside of my vest. Shay heaved a long, relieved sigh, and we both leaned against the rough wooden door frame, and looked at each other, and began to laugh.

What a night!

We cleaned up the mess, picked up the knocked over chairs, mopped the floors, walked together to our horses that were tied behind the bar, being careful to keep our pistols at the ready.

I spoke to my black and white horse, "Come on, Hammer. Let's go home", as Shay, our horses, and I galloped off down the street, talking to each other and laughing about the night's events together on our way home.