Pirate Queen Read online




  Table of Contents

  All About Me, Kylie Jean!

  Chapter One - Talk Like a Pirate

  Chapter Two - Swing from a Rope

  Chapter Three - A Pirate Crew and Code

  Chapter Four - Every Pirate Needs a Parrot

  Chapter Five - Treasure Island

  Chapter Six - The Gold Hoop

  Chapter Seven - Peg Leg

  Chapter Eight - X Marks the Spot

  Chapter Nine - Treasure Hunt

  Chapter Ten - Trick or Treat

  Chapter Eleven - Pieces of Eight

  About the Author

  About the Illustrator

  Glossary

  Talk!

  Be Creative!

  From Momma's Kitchen

  Copyright

  Back Cover

  My name is Kylie Jean Carter. I live in a big, sunny, yellow house on Peachtree Lane in Jacksonville, Texas with Momma, Daddy, and my two brothers, T.J. and Ugly Brother.

  T.J. is my older brother, and Ugly Brother is . . . well . . . he’s really a dog. Don’t you go telling him he is a dog. Okay? I mean it. He thinks he is a real true person.

  He is a black-and-white bulldog. His front looks like his back, all smashed in. His face is all droopy like he’s sad, but he’s not.

  His two front teeth stick out, and his tongue hangs down. (Now you know why his name is Ugly Brother.)

  Everyone I love to the moon and back lives in Jacksonville. Nanny, Pa, Granny, Pappy, my aunts, my uncles, and my cousins all live here. I’m extra lucky, because I can see all of them any time I want to!

  My momma says I’m pretty. She says I have eyes as blue as the summer sky and a smile as sweet as an angel. (Momma says pretty is as pretty does. That means being nice to the old folks, taking care of little animals, and respecting my momma and daddy.)

  But I’m pretty on the outside and on the inside. My hair is long, brown, and curly.

  I wear it in a ponytail sometimes, but my absolute most favorite is when Momma pulls it back in a princess style on special days.

  I just gave you a little hint about my big dream. Ever since I was a bitty baby I have wanted to be an honest-to-goodness beauty queen. I even know the wave. It’s side to side, nice and slow, with a dazzling smile. I practice all the time, because everybody knows beauty queens need to have a perfect wave.

  I’m Kylie Jean, and I’m going to be a beauty queen. Just you wait and see!

  Ahoy, mateys! This is an exciting time for me and my friends. Halloween is coming, and I have been getting ready for my biography book report.

  Can you guess who my report is going to be about? I just gave you a little clue.

  If you think I’m reporting on a pirate, then you’re sure good at guessing! I checked out books from my school library and from the public library to learn everything I can about my lady pirate.

  She’s an Irish, red-haired pirate queen, Grace O’Malley.

  I am up early for a Friday morning. Sometimes it’s harder to wake up than it is to find buried treasure, but today I need to make a hat for my book report before I eat breakfast.

  Momma shouts, “Kylie Jean, T.J., are you up yet?”

  “Aye, I am!” I reply.

  I can hear T.J. snoring while I put the final touches on my hat. Momma yells again, louder this time. “T.J. Carter, you better get up or you’ll be late for school!”

  I put my hat on and look in the mirror. I gasp. “Blimey!” I say. “I look just like a pirate queen.”

  Ugly Brother barks. “Ruff, ruff.” That means he agrees!

  “In two more weeks, it will be Halloween,” I tell him. “Look at me. I’m gonna be a pirate!”

  The pirate hat I made looks pretty amazing. I used black construction paper and made a pink glitter skull and crossbones. On my way out the door, I spy my pink feather boa, so I pluck out a pink feather and stick it in the side of my creation. “Perfect!” I say, taking one more peek in the mirror. Then I head downstairs.

  Momma is pouring orange juice when I walk into the kitchen.

  “Pirates got a disease called scurvy because they didn’t eat oranges while they were sailing on the high seas,” I tell her. I grab my glass of juice and drink it all down.

  “Really?” Momma asks.

  “Aye,” I reply.

  I pour my cereal into a white bowl with a little gold crown on the front. Granny gave it to me for my birthday.

  “Your brother had better get up soon,” Momma says. “Guess he’s pretty tired from helping out at the Pettigrews’ last night.”

  “Helpin’ them with what?” I ask.

  “Oh, his youth group has been mowing lawns and helping out around people’s houses,” Momma says. “And that’s great, but he still needs his sleep.”

  T.J. wanders in with his hair sticking up all over. He yawns and stretches. Then he looks at me. Quick as a wink, he takes a second look.

  He groans. “Please tell me you are not gonna wear that silly hat on the bus,” he says.

  I nod. “Aye!” I tell him. “Wearin’ this hat is part of my homework.”

  Momma asks, “Is talkin’ like a pirate part of your homework, too?”

  I shrug. “Not really, but it’s fun!” I say.

  Before anyone else can say anything, we hear Mr. Jim, our bus driver, honk twice.

  “Ahoy!” I say. “We better hurry!”

  T.J. has to grab some toast because he slept too long to get anything else. Momma tries to squish down his crazy hair, but there’s no time! We grab our lunches and run out the door.

  When I get to school, I see my best cousin, Lucy. She is wearing a cowgirl hat. Her report is about Annie Oakley, the famous Wild West sharpshooter.

  When Lucy sees my pirate hat, we both laugh.

  “This is just like what Pa always says,” Lucy tells me. “Great minds think alike.”

  Right after the morning announcements, our teacher starts our book report presentations. I want to go first, but Ms. Corazón follows her class list. Since Carter begins with the letter C, I will be fourth.

  My friend Cole goes first, since his last name is Adams. His report is about Jacques Cousteau, an underwater scientist. I can hardly wait for my turn.

  Finally, Ms. Corazón calls, “Kylie Jean Carter. Your turn.”

  I stand at the front of the room in my pirate hat and begin my report.

  “Ahoy, mateys!” I say. “My report is about the red-haired pirate queen Grace O’Malley. Grace was born in 1530. She was a lady buccaneer, so they called her the Pirate Queen. Y’all know how much I love queens!”

  “She fought off fierce pirates with her cutlass,” I go on. “In case ye don’t know, a cutlass is a curved sword used by pirates. There were two hundred men under her command! She had twenty pirate ships. They sailed the seas hunting Spanish and English ships to steal treasure from. As part of her booty — that’s pirate for treasure — she owned castles and piles of gold doubloons.”

  “Grace was held in the dungeons of Dublin Castle,” I say. “A dungeon is like a jail. Grace even met her enemy, the Queen of England, to make peace and to free her son and brother.”

  I take a breath, and then go on. “Grace was married and had four children,” I say. Women in the old days didn’t have much freedom, but she proved that you could do anything if you put your mind to it. She was even the leader of her Irish clan. Some called her the Dark Lady. She died in 1603.”

  Ms. Corazón says, “Very good, Kylie Jean. That was a fascinating report. You deserve a gold star!”

  The girls clap and cheer, especially Lucy, Cara, and Paula. The boys in the class a
re shocked. Cole blurts out, “Girls can’t be pirates!”

  Ms. Corazón warns us, “Students, please remember to raise your hand if you want to speak, and I will call on you. Now it’s time for Lucy’s book report.”

  When I sit down, Cole sticks his tongue out at me. Can you believe it?

  I just have to prove that girls can be pirates. I want to be a pirate queen just like Grace O’Malley!

  Later that afternoon on the playground, Cole and the other boys tease me about my report.

  “Kylie Jean is no pirate queen!” Cole shouts. “Girls can’t be pirates!”

  It makes me so mad! I yell, “If I was a pirate queen, I’d make you walk the plank!”

  My girlfriends and I look at each other. “We have to think of a way to prove that girls can be pirates,” I say. “And in time for Halloween, because that’s my costume!”

  “That’s right,” Cara says.

  “But what can we do?” Lucy asks.

  We swing and think. It’s really hard! We don’t have any pirate treasure or a ship. Then Cara’s eyes squeeze shut. “I have an idea!” she says. “Let’s have a sword fight.”

  “That’s a great idea!” I shout. I have an older brother and a younger dog brother, so I’ve seen about a hundred pirate movies. I know how they dance around with a sword.

  I march over to Cole and say, “I challenge you to a pirate sword fight!”

  “What?” he says, looking confused.

  “If I win, you have to admit that girls make great pirates. Got it?” I say.

  “Um, okay,” Cole says. “What can we use for swords?”

  I spy some long dried-out sticks on the edge of the playground. They sort of look like swords. “Those sticks will be fine,” I say. Paula runs over and grabs a handful.

  I figure I’m going to get real dirty. You know beauty queens do not like to get dirty! However, being a farm girl, I also know that sometimes getting dirty is part of the job. And besides, real true pirates don’t worry too much about staying clean.

  Cara hands us each a sword. I shake some dirt off of mine. “Stand back to back until I shout start,” Cara says. “Then walk ten steps, turn around and use your sword. Got it?”

  My heart is thumping. “Got it,” I growl.

  Cole bellows, “Me, too!”

  We turn back to back. His back feels like a bag of skeleton bones against mine. Then Cara shouts for us to start.

  As we take our paces, we count. At the tenth step, we turn.

  I run at him and he runs at me! We are both really brave, but the minute our swords hit each other, they break into itty bitty pieces. Standing there with our broken swords, we are both surprised.

  “Now what?” Cole asks.

  Lucy thinks fast. “Maybe we should see which pirate can walk the plank,” she suggests.

  Cole and I are going to walk across the teeter-totter. The pirate who makes it across the plank without quitting or getting scared wins the bet.

  My feet are steady. I balance as I move quickly across the plank. The girls all clap and Paula cheers, “Ta-da!”

  The problem is that Cole steps right on that plank and walks straight across it, too. Then the boys clap and cheer. Blimey! I want to prove to the boys that I’m as good a pirate as Cole.

  Cole’s friend Justin says, “Kylie Jean, if you think you can be a pirate, then prove it. Swing from a rope!”

  Three long ropes dangle down from the tip-top of the monkey bars. Cole touches all three of the ropes like he’s testing them.

  He spits into his hands and rubs them together, grabbing on to the middle rope. Beauty queens never spit! Just because I want to be a pirate queen does not mean I’m going to take up spitting.

  Cole runs back as far as he can pull the rope, jumps up, and swings through the air. I do the same and swish past him like a real true swashbuckler.

  The boys are still not convinced, but before I can challenge them to another pirate battle, the recess bell rings. When we line up, Cole is standing behind me. He whispers, “Kylie Jean, YOU are not a pirate!”

  Boys are a bunch of scurvy dogs. There has to be a way I can prove I’m a pirate queen.

  And before you know it, I think of a great plan!

  On Saturday afternoon, I invite my best cousin Lucy and my other friends to come to my house.

  Aunt Susie brings Lucy early. She and Momma will have a chat while we play. Nanny likes to say that sisters can always find things to talk about. Sometimes I wish Ugly Brother was a girl so I could have a sister, too. Lucy is so lucky to have a sister. But now I have a pirate queen plan. If it works out, I’ll have a pirate crew. Pirate crews are even better than sisters!

  Lucy and I go upstairs to play while we wait for our other friends. “I thought your report was awesome!” she tells me. “Your costume will be great for Halloween.”

  “The boys didn’t think it was any good,” I say. Then I add, “Wait until everyone gets here and I’ll tell y’all about my big plan.”

  We don’t have to wait too long before the rest of the girls come knocking on the door. Then we run out into the backyard. We all sit at Momma’s picnic table.

  I wait till everyone is quiet. Then I ask, “What does every pirate captain need?”

  Paula frowns. “Is this a pirate joke?” she asks.

  “No way!” I say. “I’m serious.”

  The girls look at each other. Then Lucy says, “I give up. Tell us what every captain needs.”

  Cara shouts, “I’ve got it! A crew, right?”

  “Shiver me timbers!” I exclaim. “Ye figured it out!” I look over at my cousin. “Lucy, will you be my first mate?” I ask.

  Lucy winks and says, “Aye!”

  I continue, “Cara, you can be the old salt.”

  Cara gets a disgusted look on her face. “The what?” she asks.

  “The old salt. The experienced sailor,” I explain. “Since you have been sailing on your uncle’s sailboat. You have experience.”

  “Okay,” Cara says, but she doesn’t look too sure.

  “What about me?” Paula asks.

  I think for a minute and then say, “I know! You can be the cabin boy.”

  “I’m not a boy,” Paula complains. “What else is left?”

  “The cook,” I say.

  Paula sighs. “I guess I’d rather be the boy than the cook,” she says.

  “The cabin boy helps out around the ship,” I explain. “You don’t have to be a boy to do that job.” I look around. “That means you’re the cook, Ugly Brother,” I tell my dog.

  He whines and barks once. That means no!

  “I’ll try to find you a better job,” I promise him.

  “What do we do to start?” Lucy asks.

  “Well, I think the first thing we have to do is make our own pirate code,” I say.

  I explain that pirates lived by a code. The code is a set of rules that each mate promises to follow. We will all have to take an oath. Together we make our very own pirate code.

  “Every mate gets a vote,” I say.

  “Okay,” Cara says, “but only as long we all get to take turns wearing the pirate hat.”

  That gives me a great idea! “Everyone in the crew should make their own hat,” I say. All the girls cheer.

  “What other rules can we have in the code?” Paula asks. “How about, no one leaves the crew, ever, even if they move?”

  “That’s a good one!” I say.

  “What did real pirates have on their list?” Lucy asks.

  I tell her, “Real pirates had lights out by eight, so that can be on our list, too.”

  “My bedtime is at eight anyway,” Lucy says.

  “Mine too,” I say. “So it’s perfect!”

  “We should add that we can stay up late on special occasio
ns,” Cara says. “You know. Just in case.”

  “That’s a good idea,” I say.

  “That seems like enough rules,” Cara says.

  I nod and say, “Let’s all vote. Say aye if you like the rules, and say nay if you don’t.”

  At the same time, we all say, “Aye!”

  Lucy, my first mate, writes down our code.

  1. All mates get a vote.

  2. All mates get a turn.

  3. All mates make their own hats.

  4. No fighting.

  5. No quitting.

  6. Lights out by eight (except on special occasions).

  Each girl sits on a log and swears to follow the code. Real pirates sat on the cannon, but since we don’t have one, the log will have to do. Then we all sign our new pirate code with my sparkly gold pen.

  “Ahoy, me mateys!” I say. “Now we are a real pirate crew!”

  On Sunday after church, Lucy and I talk like pirates all the way to Nanny and Pa’s Lickskillet Farm for Sunday lunch. We are excited about our brand-new pirate crew, but something seems to be missing.

  Lucy asks, “Do you think we need a cook?”

  “No, not really,” I reply. “We can always eat crackers.” Then I add, “How about a parrot, matey?”

  Lucy agrees, “Aye, me hearty, that is just what we need!”

  Before we can say anything else, T.J. starts to complain! “Can’t you two talk like normal girls?” he asks.

  “Are you telling me to pipe down, bucko?” I reply.

  He doesn’t answer me. Instead, he says, “Momma! Make her stop doing that.”

  Momma just laughs. “It’s good to know two languages,” she says.