Mr. Curtin smiled. “I’d better tell Vicki the rest of the story before she thinks we’re all crazy down here. You see,” he continued, “since Gasparilla had made Tampa Bay his headquarters, we decided to use him as an excuse for a mid-winter festival and a week of fun. A group of Tampa businessmen formed an organization called Ye Mystic Krewe. You spell Krewe with a capital K and an e on the end. And aside from Festival Week, we’re as sedate as any Rotary Club.”
“You’re not very sedate when you capture Tampa,” Louise said.
“No,” Mr. Curtin admitted with a grin, “I’m afraid that for that particular week we turn into little boys again playing pirate. A few years ago we raised the money to build a full-rigged sailing ship, an exact replica of Gasparilla’s Florida Blanca. On Monday morning—this year it will be February tenth—we all dress up in pirate costumes, sail the José Gasparilla up the Bay, and capture Tampa. Then, for the rest of the week, everybody has fun—dancing in the streets, balls, torchlight parades. Then, on Saturday, we sail away and give Tampa a chance to catch its breath until next year.”
Vicki’s eyes were shining with excitement as Louise’s father finished his story.
“It does sound like fun! I just can’t wait!”
“Nina and I are going to ride on one of the floats in the big torchlight parade,” Louise said, her own eyes Sparkling. “We’ll be all dressed up like Spanish señoritas, in mantillas, shawls, red dresses ...”
“And red roses clutched in our pearly teeth,” Nina insisted.
“Why can’t I be a señorita too?” Vicki demanded. “That is”—and her face fell at the thought that she might miss the fun—“if we’re not in New York that day.”
“Whoever heard of a blond, blue-eyed señorita?” Mr. Curtin teased.
“I have,” Nina said. “In the north of Spain—”