Teetoncey and Ben O'Neal (13 page)

I felt hot tears near my eyelids and quickly went back up the dune where Filene was sitting, having his evening pipe. He'd been hearing this nasty talk from other people and said a nice thing to me. "Ben, you'll be mommicked an' in storms the rest o' your life. Learn to ride 'em out."

Teetoncey and I fled toward home.

There was some gloom over the O'Neal house that night but Mama tried to be cheerful. She was never one to hold grudges nor to let her anger do more than quickly pass through her craw. I told her what had happened down on the beach and she said, "They'll sleep on it, Ben. An' after calm daylight, they'll decide we're noble people after all."

We sat around after supper and talked awhile. Though I wish she hadn't, Mama declared that she thought one reason the
Empress
was lost was simply because of all that bullion on board. Weight had nothing to do with it. The silver itself had doomed the bark.

I saw Tee thinking seriously about it.

We were all down in the mouth and that mystical story went with that condition.

Part of the gloom, of course, was the knowledge that Teetoncey would leave us soon, now that the consul had been notified she had London relatives. I was actually growing to like her. She was sure different from Banks girls. In that hairpin body was a lot of spunk.

The subject was only brought up once that night and Mama commented, though she was brokenhearted, "We'll wait an' see. But, Teetoncey, you might even like to git back to England. To that nice, big house. Go to those fancy dress shops, eat your own kind o' food. You might even find yourself takin to that uncle an' his younguns."

Tee seemed resigned now. "I hope," she said.

The next week was difficult. I worked twice at the Burrus store but not a soul that came in mentioned Heron Head or Teetoncey. Mis' Burrus continued cool, and I couldn't have cared less. She was a turncoat. Mr. Burrus was himself, though he didn't say a word about the
Empress
fortune and everything that had happened.

Time to time we heard things. The surfmen were keeping people away from the shore, as best they could, and Filene crewed his boat to row out and chase a sloop that had sailed from Norfolk for a bit of salvage work. Outlanders were beginning to show up and the keeper was more afraid they'd drown than find the bullion. He didn't want his record blemished any more than it was.

The consul, we'd heard by then, was waiting instructions from London and even with those steamships making a crossing in six or seven days, mail took three weeks to reach Norfolk. Even if Tee's uncle was headed toward us, it would still be mid or late March before she left.

Teetoncey was with me a lot those days, doing some of the things we'd done when she was in her catatonic state. Foolish things like shouting up and down the steps of Hatteras Light; going to watch the snow geese on Pea Island. I must say it was an improvement over previous weeks. I was exhausted from fighting the battles of hiding her and hunting the fortune in silver.

She
was
different. Imagine anybody finding beauty in driftwood. She did. She held up a gnarled piece of satiny gray wood and said, "Ben, this is breathtaking." There was enough of it on the Banks to let her hold her breath a thousand years.

Tee was moody the afternoon we went up to watch the snow geese. She sat on the flats, her elbows upon her knees, just staring at the geese as they flapped and moved about, making a lot of noise.

Suddenly she asked, "Ben, will you come and see me in London? After you start going to sea?"

"If I get over that way," I said.

"I'd like that. I could show you a lot of things. We could go to exciting places together."

That would be fine, I thought, in case I ever got to London. I did want to see some of the trains, those roof-seat buses, and that tunnel under the Thames River. I couldn't figure out how they did that. How do you bore through mud? Only worms had been successful thus far.

"It might be a couple of years," I said.

"I'll wait," Teetoncey answered, looking over at me. Her yellow hair was poking out from under the red bob-cap. She looked prettier than ever. She leaned over, kissed my cheek, and got up quickly to walk to the pony cart.

I sat there with my face feeling like I'd dipped it into hot embers.

F
ILENE CAME OVER
two days later and confirmed what we'd heard: A man named Harkness and one named Beatty, from up on Roanoke Island, had sailed out of Oregon Inlet; come down to Heron Shoal a night past for a little digging. Harkness had drowned.

There were now fifteen casualties because of the
Malta Empress.
Enough, it would seem, to satisfy the ocean. Yet, not quite.

"Though the best tide is still a few days away, we can't wait any longer, Rachel. We'll have more graves on these Banks than there is sand. No matter how we warn people, they're gonna try to take that bullion."

Mama asked, "When'll you do it?"

"Day after tomorry. I've notified the assistant inspector an' he notified the consul. They're on their way."

"I'm sure glad, Filene. We should all git this behind us." At last, they were joined in mind.

He nodded agreement, then said, "I been studyin' salvage laws, Rachel. This is complicated an' I jus' don't know how it'll work out but if Teetoncey here is to share anythin, she best be on that barge with us. Mebbe even stick a shovel in. She's the owner's representative."

I looked over at Tee. She'd closed her eyes from the very thought of any salvage.

"Miss, you don't have to go," Filene said quickly. "I'm jus' tellin what I think. I don't even know I'm right."

Mama offered, "I'll go out with you, Tee."

That was truly astonishing. Mama hadn't been on the ocean since John O'Neal's boat capsized. She'd sworn she'd never go on it again. It was Sodom and Gomorrah to her. Besides, she had a terrible cold.

"Do what you think is best," said Filene, and departed.

Now, there is nothing trickier than maritime salvage laws. It takes a hogpen full of lawyers just to figure out who gets what and why It would seem just and fair that Teetoncey would be the sole owner of whatever money her papa had carried up from the Barbadoes. Not so. To claim it all, she'd have to sit on that bar, and then have the money to hire a salvage crew, and then guard it with her life. Those things accomplished, the state government, claiming water rights to mean high tide, and bottom rights for some distance to sea, would try to lay an open palm in; then the fat, greedy federal government would twist the law to see how much it could steal from both the state of North Carolina and Teetoncey, as well as everyone else. Government theft seems to be legitimate.

I went over to Heron Head Station to find out how Filene planned to raise the chests. Locating Jabez, he told me, "We're puttin a rig on the
Beulah
today so we can lift 'em out with a block an' taykle. Shovel out first an' then put a hitch on 'em."

The
Shallowbag Beulah
was an old, beat-up, mud-spattered work barge down from Shallowbag Bay, in Manteo, anchored just inside Oregon Inlet, on the Pamlico. Flat-bottom and clumsy, it was about forty feet in length, twelve or so wide. Some government men had used it for surveying the past two summers. We'd played on it when it was anchored off Chicky village. Diving from it; crabbing off it with rotten fishheads for bait. I'd gotten a bad splinter from it in my right big toe. I knew the
Beulah.

Jabez went on, "Luther an' Mark are up there now doin' the riggin'. Puttin' up two oak beams for standin' cargo booms. Whole crew'll take a boat tonight on the wagon an' then we'll tow the
Beulah
around beginnin' at daybreak. Anchor her good an' then do it day after tomorry."

I thought that was a little better plan than Kilbie had.

"We'll use about thirty shovelers an' they're drawin' lots for 'em tonight at the Burrus store. Filene still don't know they'll git any share but he's doin' it anyhow..."

Jabez laughed. "Alriddy, I heerd rumors these men'll share five hundred dollars each. No truth to that. But mebbe they will. Mebbe they won't. Filene says the courts'll decide."

I said, "It's a funny thing. Everybody's forgotten that the money really belongs to Teetoncey."

The chinless surfman nodded soberly. "Yes, they have. What's more, they've lost sight it might not be sittin' on that keel. You thought about that?"

I said I had. It would serve them right.

However, I still felt obliged to be on that barge or shoveling sand on that shoal when those chests came up, if they did.

I sought out Filene and pled guilty to numerous sins over the past month but then requested, "Cap'n, let me go out. I swear I'll do exactly what you say. Anything you say."

He answered sympathetically. "Ben, men are drawin' lots for a place on that barge."

"I won't ask to share," I promised. "Mama and Tee'll be on there. I got to go. We're family, after all."

He considered it a moment, then said, "All right, Ben. When I say sit you sit; when I say stand you stand..."

That didn't change a solitary thing. More or less, I'd been doing that for Filene since Papa died.

"I promise," I said.

The day for salvage on Heron Head Shoal was chilly and damp, even raw, as colorless as an oyster. But the wind was light and sea conditions favorable. Unless the weather shifted suddenly, there was no reason not to skim that bar in much less than an hour. With thirty shovelers, it wouldn't take long to heave sand and leave the
Malta Empress
cleaner than a holiday hen.

Mama's cold was still plaguing her. She was coughing pretty badly. She took a Mehaly penetrate around noon and then bundled up in a sweater and oilskin coat; shawl to protect her ears. Tee got dressed for chill weather, too. I'd been ready to go since early morning.

Tee wasn't very happy about going to the barge. Neither was Mama. But rather than have her lose everything, it was a chore to be done. Like pulling a troublesome tooth.

About one o'clock, I hitched Fid to the pony cart and we started off, Boo riding in back; Tee with the reins, as she now liked that assignment.

As we came over the final dune, Mama muttered, "I cannot believe it!"

There must have been five hundred people on the beach, mostly Bankers but a lot of mainlanders. As we got closer, I saw the British consul; Inspector Timmons; the wreck commissioner, and some other men I'd never seen before.

The barge was already anchored at the east lip of the shoal. Two surfboats were ready for launching from the beach. Filene's crew was there; so was Cap'n Davis's crew from Chicky.

We parked Fid and went on over.

Kilbie, fit to be tied because he couldn't go out, said, "It looks like a circus."

That it did.

The British consul came up to us and tipped his derby. He greeted Mama and she answered on the cool side. He said to Teetoncey, "We've met before, young lady, but you probably don't remember. I'm Consul Calderham." He looked a lot better than the last time I saw him.

Tee gave him a slight formal bow and said, "How do you do." So British.

Calderham said, "You'll be happy to know that it won't be long until we have you returned safely to England. Away from this rustic place. I'm awaiting word from your uncle."

Tee said, "Thank you, sir."

Mama said to the consul, "Watch out you don't step in that fresh mule dung."

He looked down at his shoes and by the time he looked up we were moving on.

"I don't like him," said Tee instantly.

"That makes a hundred of us," Mama replied.

When we got to the Heron Head boat, Mama asked Filene, "Who are all these people?" She nodded toward the mainlanders, those she didn't know.

Filene laughed. "Well, that one's from the U.S.A. Treasury; that's a state taxman; that's a county taxman. I'm surprised Congress isn't here today."

"Trash fish all," Mama muttered, and coughed hard. There wasn't much less distinction that could be applied to anything.

I looked out at the barge. It seemed to be all set. They'd rigged those oak beams in an upside-down V with the block and tackle dropping down from the point. Six or eight men could pull on the purchase line, the lifting line, and yank those chests out with no trouble.

Mama said to Filene, "Cousin, I jus' hope we don't find nothin' but sand an' shells."

Just about that time, the federal man walked up to Filene, dressed fancily. He said, "Keeper, I'll lay claim to those chests just as soon as you get them on shore."

Filene answered respectfully, "Yessir, but the state man has said he's layin' claim."

"You're a federal employee, aren't you?"

Filene answered, "Yessir. All I plan to do is turn 'em over to Inspector Timmons." That was neat passing of responsibility if I'd ever overheard it.

Mama shook her head and walked away.

I saw her talking earnestly to Teetoncey but didn't think much about it. Those two were always nose to jowl now, plotting something with dresses or doilies.

Shovels were being tossed into the Chicky boat. The tide would be below the bar in another half hour. Then Cap'n Davis shoved his boat off with the first load.

A few minutes later we got set to load into Filene's boat. He would row shorthanded to accommodate more people. The sea was practically flat.

Just before gathering her skirts up to step in, Mama looked at me with resignation. She said, "Ben, I swore I'd never go out again. And after this day, I won't."

Then I helped Tee in and climbed in myself. About ten or twelve shovelers—Farrows, Scarboroughs, Millers, Gillikins, even Mr. Burrus—threw a leg in and sat down.

Jabez, Luther, Malachi, and Mark rowed us out, with Filene steering. We went out in a hurry and I didn't hear a word said, as if we were hunting wild gobblers west of Mattamuskeet, stealthily sneaking through brush. Everyone was staring toward the
Empress,
entranced and thinking of money.

Tee sat beside me.

I whispered, "It won't take long, and we'll be back on shore."

Her head bobbed in a slight nod. Her lips were tight, though.