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To be exact, Gertrude
Medillo De Fromm Rogers Riley, Defender of the Realm, Keeper
of the Kakapao.
Oft-wed matriarch of
Medillo Grande,
the island's most famous enigma, she lives atop a mountain
that dominates the tropical idyll which is Medillo Grande
(it's really more of a large hill, but don't mention that
to Gert).
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As a direct female descendant
of 18th century buccaneer, Henry
Medillo, her word is law in this part of the island.
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As
a child, Her Majesty Gertrude slept through the
great San Francisco earthquake of 1906.
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A wise and wizened old
dame, Gert rules her several score subjects with a gentle
hand but an iron will.
She assumed her lofty
position as a girl in 1916, having just returned from schooling
in Europe, North Africa, and Denver, upon the death of her
102-year-old mother (longevity runs in the genes in Medillo
Grande).
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Her first husband was
Schuyler Sinclair De Fromm, a wealthy New Orleans playboy
who ran his yacht aground off Medillo Grande the day of
Queen Gert's gala 18th birthday party and coming-out dance.
Her Majesty and friends
paddled out on surfboards and rescued all with the only
loss being a case of superb champagne. Their whirlwind romance
and marriage were the moveable feat of an eventful Caribbean
social season (there was a revolution in Cuba).
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Henry
Rogers, second husband of
Her Majesty Gertrude.
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A reckless, lovable
man, De Fromm died tragically in a ballooning accident
in the south of France in 1921 while there entertaining
the young Duke of Windsor.
Gertrude's second husband
was boisterous adventurer and freebooter, Henry Rogers,
a man who brought out Gert's wild side and the only husband
to give her a child.
Henry, too, died tragically,
only weeks after their marriage, when an Italian frigate
blasted his ship from the water while it was running guns
to the Ethiopians.
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Heartbroken Gert swore
off men and concentrated her attention on her tiny realm
and her handsome son (but she could not protect him from
his own idealism and a round from a Japanese knee-mortar
on Tarawa in the Pacific Theater of Operations).
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Her
Majesty once had tea with Aimee Semple MacPherson
in Pasadena and thought her addled-headed.
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In 1969, Gert deeded
a short stretch of beach on the edge of Medillo Grande to
Cap'n Roy Riley (his laugh
was the first to make her laugh in twenty-five years). It
wasn't long before he won her hand and what was left of
Gert's heart with his boyish, cockeyed grin and innocent
affection.
Alas, Cap'n Roy is gone
now, too, except for the occasional spiritual apparition.
Alone and childless -- but far from friendless -- Gert watches
over her people and her kingdom like a hawk-eyed Dali Lama-ette.
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I never let my schooling
interfere with my education.
-- Mr. Twain |
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