Legends of the Ghost Pirates (10 page)

Jo hands them to me. “What'd you see?”

“Dunno.” I put the binoculars tight to my eyes and
aim them straight for the windows. But just as I do that, the light
goes out. “I thought I saw a light, but now it's not there
anymore.”

I hand them to Jo, and she points them where I was
looking. After a few seconds she hands them back. “Are you sure? I
didn't see anything.”

“No, I'm not sure.” I put them back to my eyes.
Still dark in the tower. The binoculars are powerful, and I can
look really closely at each window. Suddenly there's a crack of
lightning that turns the night sky into a flash of daylight. In
that instant I see it. A shadowed face in the window!

Chapter 12

Graveyard

“
AH!”
I scream falling off the
steps into the cabin.

“What happened?” Sara asks, as she grabs my arm to
pick me up off the cabin floor.

“A face! There was a face in the tower window.”

“Blarney Bart,” Jo says under her breath.

Sara stops and looks hard at Jo shaking her
head.

“Believe me! I saw a face!” My heart rate's
instantly doubled. Quickly grabbing the binoculars off the floor, I
stand up again poking my head out of the cabin. Rain has started to
come down in sheets. When I put them to my eyes the lenses quickly
streak with water. I can't see a thing. I try looking with just my
eyes, but it's no use. I'm getting soaked. I go back below sliding
the hatch closed behind me to keep the rain out.

When I'm seated, Sara tosses me a towel. “Here.
You're soaking wet.”

Nobody says what we are all thinking; Blarney Bart
the ghost pirate. There's an awkward silence in the cabin as we
each avoid eye contact. I made an idiot out of myself when the
Adelaide
sailed past, so I don't want to look like an idiot
again. But I'm positive I saw a face in the window. What if it
really was a ghost? I wish one of the others had seen it too
besides me.

Finally Sara asks, “Do you
really
think you
saw a face? Maybe it was just an owl or something. Owls like living
in abandoned buildings, you know.”

“You're right,” I say. “Probably just an owl.” But
that's not at all what I saw—I saw a
face
! I can hardly
stand it. The growing tension feels like it's trying to suffocate
me. A
nd
, there's still Jo's question. I don't actually not
like her; she's just... oh, I don't know. This little cabin is
suddenly feeling way too small. If we were at the old wharf I'd
jump off and get the heck away from these two girls.

After I dry my head, I look at my watch. Close
enough. “There's not much to do, so I'm going to turn in.”

“Just like that, you're going to bed? What about
what you just saw?” Sara asks. “How can you think about sleeping if
you just saw a face in the window?”

“With all this talk about Blarney Bart and ghost
pirates, I'm probably just imagining things,” I say trying to
convince myself more than anyone else. “It's nothing. In the
morning we'll probably all have a good laugh.” Sara shakes her head
with her arms crossed.

I'm not going to be able to sleep, though, that's
for sure. But I don't want to talk to them anymore, so I make my
way forward to the V-berth. Jo looks at me with a raised eyebrow as
I move past her. Message received; her question hasn't been
forgotten.

* * *

It's now the next morning, and after a good
breakfast, the three of us are rowing to shore. So far the
weather's starting off as a sunny day without a cloud in the sky.
Nobody's talked about the face I saw, and I think Jo's forgotten
about the question she asked me. That makes my morning even
better.

The little dingy is so old I'm surprised it floats
us. I'm rowing, Sara's in front and Jo's in back. But the trick to
this old dingy is both Jo and Sara, who have plastic pails, have to
bail the water out as fast as it's coming in. They're not
tired—yet, so it's lucky we don't have far to go. My feet are good
and wet, but that's why I'm waiting to put my shoes on when we get
to shore.

When we hit the little pebbly beach, Sara jumps out
then holds it steady for us while we step out. I sit on a rock to
put my shoes on. “Before we start searching for treasure let's take
a look at the old life-saving station.”

“Maybe we'll see the owl,” Jo says with a hint of
sarcasm.

Sara pulls the dingy far up on shore past the
high-tide mark, and says, “You don't think it was an owl?”

Jo turns to start hiking toward the life-saving
station, and calls back, “I guess we'll find out, won't we?”

Sara turns to me and shrugs.

“She's your cousin. Don't look at me like that.” But
honestly, I know we're not going to see any owl. I know what I saw
last night. I'm just glad the sun is shining, or I might not be so
eager to have a look.

The three of us follow a path south to the
life-saving station, and before long we're standing in front of it.
The morning sun's warm, but suddenly there's a chill that runs up
the back of my spine. I can't stop thinking of the face I saw last
night; what if it were to appear suddenly again this morning?
Sara's arms are crossed and her face has a look like she'd rather
be someplace else.

At the big double doors I grab hold of the rusty
padlock and turn it over in my hands. It's doesn't look like it's
been open in years. Stepping back and looking up at the tower, all
the windows are in place and none are broken or cracked.

“I'm not sure how an owl could get in there,” I say
as I put a hand over my forehead blocking the sun out of my
eyes.

“But a ghost pirate would have no problem getting
in,” Jo says stepping back a little farther. “This place gives me
the willies.”

“If you mean, the creeps, yeah me too,” I say still
squinting up into the sun. Sara moves to her right while also
looking up at the tower, but doesn't see anything unusual. All
those late night movies I've watched keep popping into my head—the
ones where the teens look into an empty window and suddenly an ax
murderer shatters the glass.

Looking up at the window, I say, “We've got a lot of
island to explore so we'd better get going. Nothing to see here.
The chart shows it's about two miles long, but really narrow; maybe
only two or three hundred yards wide.”

Just a little past the abandoned life-saving
station, Jo walks ahead of us. “Hey! Check this out.” She's
pointing to a little area that's almost impossible to notice. It's
a small wall of rocks, maybe only shin high, that's been laid out
in a large rectangle area like a small yard. The rectangle wall is
so old and crumbly that it blends in with the rest of the rocky
land. But without a doubt, someone a long time ago stacked all the
rocks forming this little yard.

Sara stands with her hands on her hips. “What do you
suppose it is? It's been here a long time. Probably longer than the
life-saving station.”

Jo slowly walks the perimeter never taking her eyes
off the middle. Since we've left on this trip this is the most
serious I've seen her. When she's standing next to us again, she
says in a soft whisper, “I know what it is.” Jo takes two steps
away from the stone wall as a cool wind whips her red hair across
her face. “It's a graveyard.”

Chapter 13

View from the Dead

Sara
puts her hands to her mouth.
“A graveyard? Fisher, she's right.”

It's hard to tell, but it does seem like there are
headstones lying flat to the ground rather than upright. The stones
are so old they blend in with all the other rocks on this small
island, but there's an unmistakable pattern to the way they're laid
out; it's clearly just like a small graveyard.

I move closer about to step over when Jo grabs my
elbow. “What in God’s name do ya think you're doing!”

There's a whip of wind that blows through causing me
to look away for a moment. There are no birds singing or gulls
calling out. It's quiet except for the wind whistling past. I shake
my elbow loose from her grip. “I'm having a closer look.”

“Fisher Shoemaker,” Jo says with the seriousness of
a Sunday preacher. “Don't go messin’ with the dead. There's
something spooky about this island, and if you start poking at old
graves, it sure as sin ain’t gonna to do us any good.”

I throw my legs over the stone wall anyway. “I just
want a closer look. It's not like I'm going to dig up their
graves.” She just shakes her head.

Kneeling down at the closest flat stone, I carefully
brush off some of the dirt and dried grass. It's hard to tell, but
it looks like there might have been some engravings in the stone.
Some letters and numbers are clearer than others, but I can't make
out enough of them to know what it says. Sara and Jo stay where
they are, not saying anything, just watching.

Slowly standing up I have a look around. I see a
stone more in the middle of the graveyard that looks like it might
be in better shape. Being as careful as I can, I move over toward
it while trying not to step on anything that might be a grave.
Those stupid late-night black and white movies are still racing
through my brain. But this time it's the ones where a boney hand
suddenly reaches out of a mound of dirt grabbing the victim’s legs.
I realize my heart is racing even though I'm moving slowly and
cautiously between stones.

At the stone in the middle, I reach down and brush
it off too. On this stone, there seems to be something other than
letters engraved into it. I brush around it a little more carefully
and realize it's a face carved into the stone. Not a creepy face
like I'd seen in the window, but just a simple face with eyes,
ears, some hair, his chin, and a large nose. A
nose
!

“I think I found something.” I look back at the
girls.

“Well. What is it?” Jo calls back.

“A nose—as in,
Under the old man's nose
.”

“What do you mean you found a nose?” Sara calls from
the side of the small stone wall.

“It's a carving of a face, and on it there's, well,
a nose that seems to be sticking out. Or at least at one time there
was a nose. It's worn a bit.”

“And you think Blarney Bart hid the money in the
grave?” Sara asks. “Pirates would do some pretty bad things, but I
don't know if they'd hide anything in a grave.”

Jo runs a hand through her red hair. “If I were a
pirate that's exactly where I'd hide the treasure. In a grave.
Who's going to have the guts to dig that up?”

“I have to agree with Jo,” I say looking back at the
flat headstone. “If I were hiding treasure, this is where I’d bury
it. Right in some boney skeleton's arms.”

I take a deep breath and let out a sigh. “So what do
we do now?” The girls just stare at me kneeling by the short stone
wall.

Sara breaks the silence. “I think we should just
leave it, and sail home. This was a fun sailing trip, but we don't
have the right to dig up someone's grave.”

Jo turns to Sara like she's ready to fight. “That's
a truckload of money to just walk away from, missy.”

“Fine,” Sara says almost shouting. “If you want it
so bad, you dig it up. But you're the one who's terrified of ghost
pirates. I saw the look on your face when that schooner appeared
out of the fog. Tough-as-nails Jo was shaking in her boots. Go
ahead; march in there and dig it up.”

Jo crosses her arms tightly and squints hard at
Sara. “I outta—”

“GIRLS!” They both snap their heads toward me with a
glare. “Let's talk this through. Maybe it's not even a grave. Maybe
it's supposed to look like a grave so no one thinks there's
treasure here. It doesn't actually have to
be
a grave, it
just needs to look like a grave. Right?”

Jo's arms uncross. “Fisher could be right. Maybe
it's just supposed to look like a grave so no one finds it.”

“So if that's the case,” Sara says. “who's going to
be the one to dig and find out if that theory’s right or
wrong?”

I stand up. “I guess I could. I've the most
experience with skeletons and dead bodies. I don't want to, but I'm
not willing to leave treasure behind. I'll do it.”

Jo says, “What do you mean you've got experience
with dead bodies and skeletons?”

“He saw the police chief shoving a body into a car,”
Sara says a matter-of -factly.

“And there was the plane wreck with two pilots’
skeletons still in their seats,” I add.

Jo nearly falls backwards. “What goes on up here in
Maine? Does everyone bump into dead bodies?”

“No. Just Fisher,” Sara says.

“Wait a minute. I can explain.” I don't like her
tone. I take a step back and suddenly the dirt under my foot gives
way. Before I realize it a huge hole is opening up and I'm falling
through it with dirt cascading around me. I'm falling into a
grave!

Chapter 14

Exploring The Island

I
land on my back with a solid
thud. The wind is knocked out of me and I can hardly breathe. The
dirt around the opening has stopped falling in and I'm about four
feet below. For a split second it's quiet except for the booming of
my heartbeat exploding in my head. It's dark down here and the
daylight seems to be swallowed up by the black dirt. Terror grips
me at the thought of being in a grave. I could be lying on top of a
body. Suddenly both Sara and Jo's heads appear above me and they
outstretch their hands.

“Grab on!” Jo shouts down to me. Grabbing both their
hands they yank me hard while my feet try and scramble up the loose
dirt. In a second I'm back in daylight lying on my side next to the
hole covered head to toe in black dirt.

Gasping between heavy breaths, I ask, “What
happened?”

“I don't know,” Jo says. “One minute you're there,
the next you were gone.”