It was bad enough for Scarlett that her estranged pirate of a lover had finally abandoned her on the ports of Tortuga; even more worse was the fact that he had left her with child all but penniless and disappeared into thin air never to be seen again.
She had visited the local quack for some concoctions but the charlatan had given her vitamins and made away with her money also. This fate was bad enough for a woman who made her living selling her body to the drunken pirates and there was nothing more she could do than go down the rungs of fame into the shadows pending whenever it was that the little fur ball inside her decides to pop out, then she might have a decision on just how best to deal with the current development. The ill-fated yet-to-arrive most definitely would pay for causing her such misfortune; for nay, she was not ready to mother any child.
Of course every now and then she would go to the ports to find out if there might be any news of him who had made her pregnant but none. It was almost as though he had vanished into thin air, almost like he was a ghost.
Gradually, his name began to fade in the lips of every pirate there was and soon enough, he had become a legend spoken of only by old drunken sailors to street children. Scarlett knew that this was it, she was damned. The alcohol and hard drugs did not send the little thing away for every morning as she stood in front of the mirror, be it naked or with dress raised up, evidence of the little one growing happily kept popping up. It started with gossip and gossip turned rumors and rumors became true that Scarlett was pregnant. Of course, it was against the codes for a whore of the harlem to be with a child nonetheless raise a child. Hence soon enough by her second trimester, Scarlett was tossed out and into the streets.
Cursed be that day; she continued saying daily as she faded away and lost value. Her greatest competitors, Giselle and Jasmine began to take over her image and men as well. Scarlett vowed the greatest revenge of a comeback upon them all; and then they all would understand why she had been given the nickname, 'Red' by the pirates. It would only be a matter of time before she smarted out of her misery.
At first, she had to stick to just that which had been her only trade, selling her body for a few pennies but with time, the bigger the pregnancy, the fewer men would bother about the cheap amounts she proposed. Not all men were bold enough to want to make out with a pregnant woman but some others, for reasons of adventure and sport. Scarlett had to find an alternative trade to engage with, but obviously it would be something even more dreadful than the first.
Walking around the streets of Tortuga one breezy evening, Scarlett happened upon a young girl, not so fair but certainly would do if she coached her to become better than any other whore there be from the harlem in the ways of men. But first, she would need to convince the child to come home with her to the stall where she had made her dwelling place.
She looked the girl over and could see that she was not just cold, but hungry as well. Dipping her hand into the basket she bore, she felt for the bread piece she had hidden there earlier. She walked over to the lean and dirty girl.
"What be your name child?" She asked as she offered her a piece
"Violette, madame." She said as she took the bread hungrily with dirty fingers. She had a French accent and these lovely gray eyes.
"And how old may you be?" Scarlett asked suddenly interested and excited
"Twenty", She said and Scarlett gave a crooked smile.
She most certainly would do and from all it would seem, the dejected whore might have just found a breakthrough. This would be her revenge against her former colleagues at the harlem. The girl was done with the piece she had been earlier given, Scarlett offered her yet another piece.
It did not take her much effort to convince Violette into embracing the life she proposed to her. She was hungry, Aye, and definitely needed everything she offered her; free boarding, food and some pennies to keep pocket full. All she had to do was to take a few tumbles which she certainly did enjoy with the sex starved pirates who would port at Tortuga for a restocking of their voyage material or to make trades with their fellow sailors. Soon enough, Violette became an expert in the field and one day, she showed up with two girls whom Scarlett gratefully took in and offered them the same life.
Her pregnancy was already at its third trimester and by now, Scarlett had accepted her fate and only counted upon her days of freedom which she was sure would happen soon enough. She no longer needed to go to the ports to ask of him as she now had a business to run, her very own harlem that was beginning to become famous. She had moved out of the old dirty stall into a bigger one where she ran both a whorehouse and a bar.
The rum never ran dry and the men never stopped coming; their numbers grew each and every other day as the numbers of girls serving under her increased. They became a sum total of fourteen skillful young harlots under her by her eighth month with child. Scarlett did certainly miss her lifestyle and soon enough, she would be free to play the whore again if it suits her new status.
Violette was also a great help to her and had to look upon the older whore as her queen. Never had she anticipated such comfort in her former days. Well, the port of Tortuga was known for all things vile, hence, everyone was busy slitting throats or thieving or drinking or prostituting. To them all, this was the high life and this became the reason why Violette believed she was extra lucky.
Finally, the day had come to be free. Scarlett was in her bedroom which also served her office checking on the records of supplies they had. She could hear them all outside her door singing the old pirate song and laughing drunkenly. The girls were giggling as well as they did their bit as taught. Scarlett had just gotten up to get something when it happened, hot liquid slid down her legs and she raised her skirt's hem to behold the trickle.
Earlier that day, she had been feeling queasy but of course, with no experience at all, the woman could not tell that it was the signs of childbirth. The sharp contraction brought back her sense of reasoning and she let out a gasp that turned into a scream as she called upon Violette. The young woman came rushing in upon the fifth call. It was time and all Scarlett could hear was the song of pirates amongst the chaos.
'Fifteen men on a dead man's chest
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum
Drink and the devil had done for the rest
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum….'
Few hours later when most men had gone to bed and the port of Tortuga silent, Scarlett stood in her dress and shawl, biting her fingernails as she looked out through the window to make certain that no eye saw what she was going to do. She had given birth to a girl but she most definitely was not going to keep her.
The baby was sleeping peacefully on her bed wrapped in clothes, she had her father's eyes and that irritated her so much. It was almost as if she had been gazing upon his very eyes when she had first seen her. Yes, she hated the child and she was going to get rid of her. She would tell the tale that she lost her baby to anyone who asked and the midwife would back her up thanks to her jingling pockets.
Violette entered the room with a bigger basket which she had asked her to find. They began preparing the little one and soon, she was sleeping in the basket. It was time and as Scarlett turned away from the basket, the little hand suddenly grasped her finger.
It was the baby, she was still sleeping but her hands held onto her finger and for a split moment, Scarlett felt her motherly instinct come to play. She returned to sit by the basket as she gazed upon her baby. The little one was not at fault but that which needs to be done had to be done. She could not keep the baby around and she told herself that it was no fault of hers but of the estranged father who had run away.
But then, he was not even aware that she had come with child but Scarlett needed someone to blame, so she blamed him. She told herself that she was doing that which he might have done; he would definitely turn the child away into the streets or cast her to the sea. He was a carefree man and had no time for such trivialities. He loved his freedom very much and would do better without the strings of unprepared fatherhood tied to his neck.