the pirates of easter island

luis coronado held onto the thick hemp ropes that hung just outside of the crow’s nest and closed his eyes as the warm tropical winds whipped through his long black hair. from the height of the galleon’s mast, he could see the entire cluster of small islands below him that nestled themselves between a spattering of rock formations that crept up from the sparkling sea like moles on the back of a lunch lady’s neck. “scale them yards mr. o’leary!” the ship’s captain called out to the young rigger. the spanish galleon was growing long in the years and her wooden hull constantly creaked like the swollen knees of an old man laying carpet in a cheap motel. “bring in them damned lines o’leary!” the captain called out impatiently to the boy climbing the ship's netting. the heat of the tropical midday sun beat down relentlessly on the crew like a border patrolman on a truckload of mexicans with a busted taillight. luis followed a pair of white crested seagulls with his eyes as they gracefully navigated the soft trade winds of the coastline. luis peeked down over the edge of the crow’s nest at the captain as the old man hid the last of the easter eggs for the crew. “damned your eyes coronado! no looking!” the captain yelled up to luis. luis smiled and quickly sat back down and covered his eyes. there was no doubt about it for luis, this was going to be the best easter egg hunt ever.