The crew of the infamous Blackbeard had just sat down for a good game of poker aboard their ship, the Vulture. "This be the life!" the captain exclaimed. "Plunderin' by day, and playin' by night!"

"Yar, 'tis true, cap'n. There be nothin' better than th--"

"Cap'n!" The man in the crow's nest interrupted. "Thar be a ship approachin' from starboard!"

The captain stood and turned to look. Sure enough, a ship was visible on the horizon. "Damn them!" he cried. "I should've known they'd catch up to us! Turn to port an' get to full speed, lads!"

The first officer looked to the sails. "Ye heard the cap'n! Lower those sails, or ye'll be feedin' the sharks!"

Slowly, the Vulture picked up speed. Still, the enemy ship was fast approaching, and even at full power there was no escape. "Curses on ye! Men, turn the ship and prepare to fire!"

On his word, the ship spun, and twenty cannons began to glare at their target. Each man on the gun deck loaded his cannon, and aimed at the opposing sails.

"Ready! Aim! Fire!"

The booms deafened the crew for at least a half-minute, as twenty metal bullets hurled themselves toward the enemy. Each pierced a hole in their sails, rendering them useless. Still, the boat continued as fast as before. "Reload and prepare to fire again!" They reloaded. "Ready! Aim! Fire!"

This time, the cannons ripped through the hull, nearly snapping its side clean off. Even then, however, the ship continued on as if nothing had happened. "There be magic aboard that ship!" the captain exclaimed. "Officers, ready yer men and prepare to defend the Vulture!"

The entire crew came onto the deck, guns and swords readied. "As soon as they try to board, we give 'em everything we've got!"

The enemy continued to approach, and finally stopped next to the Vulture. The Union Jack flew majestically over her sails. As the enemy captain approached, Blackbeard warned her: "Marm, ye best be movin' on! There be nothin' but trouble for ye on this ship, ye hear?"

Without as much as a blink, she responded: "My name is Cutthroat Maggie, and I be the worst pirate you'll ever see on these seas! Don't say another word, or you'll walk the plank!"

"Don't try to scare me with yer threats! Take another step, and I'll send ye to Davy Jones' locker!"

"Enough, Blackbeard! Let us into yer ship or we'll be tellin' the authorities back in England!"

"No, away with ye! Read the sign!" With that, Blackbeard pointed to a sign on the side of the ship: NO MARMS ALLOWED.

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"Enough, Edward! You let us into your treehouse, or we're telling on you!"

"Ugh...girls," Edward sighed.

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"Blackbeard, ye limey half-wit!" Maggie turned back to her crew. "We be leavin', lads and lasses! Prepare to set sail!" Cutthroat Maggie and her crew left Blackbeard, no doubt to tell the courts back in England of how Blackbeard was making the seas unsafe.

"Yarr...marms," Blackbeard agreed.

I glanced around the tree house one last time. There were so many memories built into it. Memories from my young childhood days, playing and growing up in it all the way to hiding out in it when I was a teenager from the stresses of the world. It was just far enough back in the woods to be away from the house but still close enough for me to run back to when I was younger and scared, or close enough for mom and dad to check on me when I thought I wanted privacy but they knew I needed to talk.

I ran my hands over the large holes in the walls that we considered windows. I stood right at a spot that I had stood at some 25 years ago. I remember the panic I felt watching Josh lean too far back sitting on that windowsill and seeing him disappear through the opening. I had rushed over to the window screaming his name. He had a few bumps and bruises and it gave him a good scare for a long time, but he was okay. He never did sit in on the sill again. That thought made me chuckle. It’s amazing that we survived our childhood.

I looked down at a nail sticking up out of the floor. I always meant to pound it back through the wood, but never did. It seemed to me to be tinted the same shade of red as my blood, but I know I cleaned that nail off several times and there was no way that it really had any of my blood still on it. I remember my mom rushing me to the doctor the first time I stepped on it and having my foot cleaned and bandaged. Fortunately my tetanus shots were up-to-date, but my dad never lived down the chewing out that he got from mom for leaving a nail sticking up. And after that I never forgot to look down at that spot every time I walked by it.

I walked to the doorway and looked down the ladder. I could still see and feel the small rocks, pinecones and assorted toys that flew back and forth when we defended our position in the tree house from “attackers”. Those boys would have done just about anything to get into our tree house, but they weren’t willing to suffer through the constant barrage of projectiles that we flung at them, and we threw everything we could. I still remember nursing scratches and bruises but being so proud that they finally gave up and went home without ever getting in.

A hook was still in the roof where we hung the swinging rope from and flung ourselves out of the window. One of the boards in the corner had worked its way loose and I peered down at the ground through it. Old magazines, books, toys and other memories were still packed into a wooden “chest” sitting in the corner. A rusted lantern sat in the middle of the room, waiting to burn brightly once again, but probably never would.

I readied my hammer, saw and crowbar to start taking the tree house apart. Now that I owned mom and dad’s house, the wood from this would make a beautiful deck. I was already seeing the railings and steps leading to it. I could envision every piece of wood and where it would go. I knew all of these boards by heart and I could already tell where some of the knotholes would fall, how I would hide our “carvings” under the deck and how much sanding I would need to do to remove so many of the rough edges that this tree house had.

Through the woods, I heard the distant laugh of my small son out in our backyard. I could imagine my wife standing there beside him, smiling down at him. I thought of all the bumps and bruises that he would have in his life and that we would be able to avoid some of those by taking this tree house down. Then I remembered all of the friends and comfort I had received from this place over those years. I remembered the laughter that use to pour from it when I hung out with my friends. I remembered holding up a toy sword and playing “pirates” defending our “ship”. I remembered snuggling quietly under the stars with my first girlfriend and a first kiss that still lingers to this day.

I packed my tools away and started walking back to the house. We’d have to find the wood for the porch from somewhere else. I might want my son to miss out on the pains of life, but sometimes those pains are outweighed by the joys.