Marathon Gold
By Chris James
Chapter Seven
"Jimmy... Jimmy... Hey, boy... do you know what time it is?"
"Uh... no. Oh damn, am I late?" Jimmy asked, coming fully awake and yet feeling like his head was filled with cobwebs. His father was shaking the foot of the bed.
"You will be. How late did you stay up reading?"
"I have no idea, what time is it now?"
"Five-thirty, I'll have to drive you in to the boat. Come on, get up and put some clothes on."
Yeah, his father was mad, not too mad but more like pissed off. Jimmy pulled on shorts and his Captain Hal's pirate shirt. Oh damn, he had to spend a day out on the boat after little to no sleep. He would be lucky if he didn't fall overboard.
Jeez Louise, what a tale, he couldn't put it down. The bound copy lay on his bed and Jimmy slid it into the drawer of his nightstand. The pirate treasure was real, and if Michael Burns was to be believed then this journal revealed its location.
"Jimmy, come on, now," His father yelled.
Jimmy stumbled through the living room and out into the carport. His father was already in the truck with the engine running. The ride in was quiet until they got to the motel and marina.
"Weather report says the first hurricane of the season is heading into Mexico," Jimmy's father said. "When you get the chance, and you aren't working, I would appreciate it if you would get out the ladder and fix that rear gutter before it falls off in a storm."
"Sure, we still got those long nails?" Jimmy asked.
"In the shed. You have a good day... and try to stay awake."
Jimmy started to run down the pier to the Marathon Queen and then cussed. He had left his bike at home which meant a long walk up to the garage after work. Hal had the lights on and the other guys were already onboard.
"There he is," John said. "I was afraid Nelson might have to tell folks about the pirates, and you know how well that would go over."
"What, you think Jimmy the only one knows pirates?" Nelson said.
"Naw, he just knows how to make it interesting," John replied.
He did try to make it interesting for the customers, but that was before last night. His romantic pirate story about Caesar was all wrong. The pirate had been a bastard, a rapist... and if anything he was the worst human being ever born. Crap, what could he say today?
They set up the cabin and the talk was all about the bad weather in Mexico. Eventually something would be headed their way and that would knock them out of business for a few days.
"Callin her Tropical Storm Abby," John said.
"I knew a lady named Abby once," Nelson said.
"Okay, here it comes. Jimmy... it might be better if you didn't listen," Terry said.
"Oh, it not like that," Nelson said. "Sister Abby Theresa, my teacher in school."
"You went to a Catholic school?" John asked.
"I did, how you think I get so smart?"
"Uh well... " Terry said.
"I'll be on deck," Jimmy said and left before the fracas started.
It was all in fun, except Terry and John didn't get invited to Nelson's for a fish fry. He would put up with their teasing at work, but he would not tolerate it at home. Hal was on the bridge, a fancy way of saying the wheelhouse at the front of the cabin. Jimmy went in there to fetch his note cards for the speech he was to give. He was so tired he might forget how to talk.
"You look beat, stay up all night?" Hal asked.
"I did, you know how a good book keeps your mind active," Jimmy replied.
"It would at your age, after that it will be girls. I firmly believe as men we're all doomed to the same fate," Hal laughed. "Have some coffee; it's in the thermos over there."
Jimmy rarely drank coffee, he didn't like the jittery feeling it gave him. But even after a cup of Hal's strong coffee he was barely feeling awake when the customers arrived. Twenty seven today and six of them were teenagers. Hal gave them the safety speech and then gunned the engines.
"Hello, I'm Jimmy Vaughn," He began. "Welcome aboard the Marathon Queen. We'll be sailing through some pretty historic waters today, and I just want to give you a glimpse of that notorious past.
"From the early 1600's to the mid 1800's Florida was awash in pirate activity. Even after Florida became a territory of the United States this area saw a lot of ships captured and plundered by pirates of various nationalities. English, French, Haitian, it didn't matter where the pirates came from, especially to those who were captured or killed."
Jimmy looked around the room; most of the people looked sleepy or bored. "Dozens of pirates were captured and hanged during that period, but they all left behind treasure of which more is discovered every year. Imagine chests filled with gold and silver, precious metals and jewels. It was all real, it happened, and today I'm going to tell you about one pirate who died in the very waters where you're going to be fishing."
That did it, he had them now. "The time was 1823, and for the previous ten years a notorious pirate named Black Caesar stalked the shipping off the Florida Keys, just a bit east of where we are right now... "
The weather was fine and the customers very happy by the end of the morning. Jimmy was dragging as they reached the lunch period when Hal moved the boat.
"Excuse me," A voice said behind Jimmy. He turned and saw two girls standing there. They were maybe a little older than he was, but he could also tell they were sisters.
"Yes?" Jimmy replied.
"The pirates, you said they attacked ships around here?"
Jimmy pointed out at the Sombrero Reef lighthouse. "Right about there we figure. A deadly stretch of reef, almost impossible to approach."
"And no one has found any of this treasure?"
"I didn't say that. Hundreds of ships have gone down in the Caribbean, dozens of them in the waters of Florida. Is Marathon your only stop on vacation?" He asked.
"No, our parents are taking us to Key West tomorrow. It all sounds pretty boring down there," One of the girls said.
"Not true, there's a lot to see. Key West is a fun place. If you're interested in shipwrecks and pirate gold they have some shops that display antique things from that period. Ernest Hemmingway lived there, a very famous author."
"Oh wow, thank you. That story you told, the Black pirate, was he real?"
"Terribly real I'm afraid. He was quite insane, killed a lot of people," Jimmy said.
The girls left and Jimmy figured he needed to talk to Clark. The story he'd read in the journal was going to ruin his romantic image of pirates; they couldn't all have been this bad. But the most pressing issue, where was the treasure those seven boys had buried?
From the description it sounded like the cove they entered was Clark's inlet, the reef they crossed now called Sombrero Reef. It seemed almost too easy, but then Clark had that gold coin which he said washed up on his beach. If it was all true then the treasure chest ought to be sitting under Clark's house or in his front yard. Was that even possible?
Jimmy had guessed that Clark wanted him to be this curious. He could have told them where the treasure lay, but he didn't. Of course there was the other treasure as well; the one Michael tossed overboard on the reef. His head was swimming in thought, and being this tired didn't help him think clearly.
Their tourist customers were grateful, happy and generous to the crew once they landed. Unfortunately Jimmy was exhausted, and to his relief Nelson gave him a ride home.
"New speech today, where you get this story?" Nelson asked.
Jimmy had been too tired to recognize that Nelson had listened to his pirate talk. It wasn't his secret to share; Clark had told him to keep it that way. Of course everyone on the island was crazy over the idea of hidden gold. Nelson would love to go digging up the island and he would have a lot of help if he knew where to look.
"National Geographic Magazine, my aunt in Miami sent it to me," Jimmy said. "They had a whole section on pirate treasure and the Keys."
"Ahh, I just wonder," Nelson said.
Jimmy didn't like lying to the man, they were friends. Nelson pulled onto the gravel driveway and Jimmy's mother was just getting into her car, she didn't look happy.
"I was just coming to get you, mister," She said.
Uh oh, she didn't call him that unless she was mad. She reached back in the car and pulled out the journal. Jimmy almost screamed in anguish. Of all things she had to go snooping in his room again. He did not want Nelson to see that book.
"Where did you get this?" She asked.
"It's... it's a story Mr. Clark has been writing," Jimmy said.
"I figured it had to come from him. What did I tell you about this pirate nonsense? I was just going to take you over there and tell him to stop feeding you this stuff."
"Pirate book?" Nelson asked. "May I see it?"
"Mr. Clark said it was private, he doesn't want anyone to see it before it gets published," Jimmy said.
"Well it's going back to him today, and I'm going to give him a piece of my mind about this. Thank you for bringing Jimmy home, Nelson. Now if you'll clear out of my driveway Jimmy and I are going to see Clark so I can give him what for."
Nelson grinned and shook his head. "See what happen when you be the bad boy?"
Okay, now Nelson knew he had been lying. If he hadn't stuck his nose into this it wouldn't have been necessary. But his mother had just fueled the fire in Nelson's mind. What the hell had she been doing in his room anyway?
She drove them over to Clark's house and Evelyn came to open the door and escort them into the parlor.
"Jimmy... Betty, to what do I owe the pleasure of a visit?" Clark asked.
"This, Alfred," Jimmy's mother said, setting the book down on the coffee table. "I wish you would stop putting all this nonsense in Jimmy's head. It's bad enough that we have Cuba in our back yard and the threat of nuclear bombs, now this pirate business is going to get people stirred up."
"I'm sorry, Betty. This is just a little bit of history about life in the Keys all those years ago," Clark said.
"I read the first few pages. Kidnapping, death and destruction, it's a little much for a thirteen year old boy to absorb.
"Thirteen and a half," Jimmy said, not making things any better.
"I understand that you two are friends, there's little enough for a boy to do down here so I accept that. I just want you to stop putting these new ideas in his head. That's all I have to say on the subject, except it seems Jimmy stayed up all night reading this material. He looks dead on his feet. "
"I worked today, Mom," Jimmy reminded her.
"We'll discuss this with your father," She said. "Good bye, Alfred."
"Good by, Betty," Cark said, and when she turned to go he gave Jimmy a wink.
Jimmy's father came home tired, looking for a beer and his supper. He got those two things and an earful about Jimmy. He listened patiently and then shook his head.
"Jimmy, if you're finished eating I think you should shower and go to bed. I don't need to have a repeat of this morning."
Jimmy hugged his parents good night and went to his room. They would wait until he was in the shower to talk about him; this is what they always did. But his father didn't wait.
"Do you know Hal's business is up thirty percent this summer? Mine is flat on its ass. I don't understand your objections. Jimmy has turned his fascination with pirates into something good for Hal. The boy uses that knowledge on the job, what's the harm?"
"Lester, I don't see how this fascination with pirates who killed people and stole from them teaches the boy any decent values."
Jimmy's father smiled. "Betty, what was that film you just had to go see this past weekend... Elmer Gantry? Now there's a fine subject for a boy to look at. Look dear, every boy has a fantasy, that's what being a boy means. You best leave Jimmy to his pirates because right soon it will be girls and you know how much trouble that will be."
"He will not start dating until he is at least sixteen," She replied.
"That's absurd. Living here is hard enough without you putting up all these ridiculous obstacles to his social life. You worry about your daughters and leave the boy to me. And that's all we will have to say on the subject."
Jimmy had heard every bit of that and he smiled. When his father put his foot down that was the end of discussion, and his mother knew that only too well. The shower felt good but the bed was all he needed. Jimmy went to sleep with the thought that he needed to tell Clark about Nelson and the book, it might be important.
Another day of work, this one was much easier after a good night's sleep. Jimmy was off to find Gene and let him in on the contents of the book. Of course now they would have to go back over to Clark's house for Gene to get the copy and start reading it for himself. His mother could be such a pain in the...
Gene was in his back yard putting a final coat of paint over the patch on the hull of the sailboat. They never talked on the phone, but somehow their minds were connected and Jimmy always knew where to find the boy.
"That looks fine," Jimmy said, dropping his bike in the yard.
"My dad says to glue a patch on the other side and no one will ever know it was damaged."
"I read the book, and then my mom got all pissed off and took it back to Clark. We'll have to go over there so you can get it... you have to read it," Jimmy said.
"Oh? That good?"
"I was pretty shocked to find out Black Caesar was a real bloody killer, but the story takes us right to the site of the gold."
"You mean there's a map?" Gene asked.
"No, but this kid Michael describes exactly where they buried a chest of gold and it sounds like it's in Clark's front yard."
"Then I don't understand, why didn't he dig it up?" Gene asked.
"We'll have to ask him," Jimmy said.
Clark was sitting on his back porch looking out at the water and the sky. He heard Evelyn let the boys in the door and knew they would be full of questions. Some of them he was prepared to answer, but he didn't want irate parents knocking on his door either. Some things would be best unsaid.
"Hello, boys... how are you?" Clark asked.
"Fine, Admiral," Gene said. "Jimmy says that's quite a book you have, says a lot of things you never told us."
"Yeah, Mr. Clark. How come you didn't tell us there was a treasure buried in your front yard?" Jimmy asked.
"Because there isn't, I don't know where it is."
"But the book says... "
"Jimmy, think a minute. Michael said they started off due north from the waterline, that's the first issue. The island was larger back then, erosion and storms have changed the landscape a good deal. And due north, by the compass they had no doubt. A compass back then wasn't graded with fine points. His due north could be five or so degrees on either side of the real thing. That's a large latitude of movement."
"But seven hundred paces, would that be hard to figure?" Jimmy asked.
"What is your pace?" Clark asked.
"You mean like walking? I don't know."
"Exactly. A pace is measured from the heel of the rear foot to the toe of the front as you walk. At your age and size I would guess that to be about two and a half feet. Multiply that by seven hundred and you see our problem."
"Seventeen hundred and fifty feet," Gene said.
"Thank you, Gene," Clark said. "That's about one third of a mile, with a deviation of ten degrees, you figure out the area that would cover."
"A lot," Gene said. "Hundreds of square feet."
"Hope you have a big shovel," Clark said. "If you do it would be across the road on land belonging to the Martin sisters. You start digging over there and they'll call the sheriff right off the bat, you know how they are."
"Can't we use a metal detector?" Jimmy asked.
"Naw, only works on ferrous metals," Gene said.
Clark laughed. "Someone paid attention in science class. Yes, a metal detector would show you nothing, especially if it's down at the waterline. The chest has probably disintegrated by now, the gold coins would start sinking in the wet sand... it's an impossible task."
"So that's why you never looked?" Gene asked.
Clark smiled. "I looked... believe me I looked. I walked all over that land hunting for some clue. I was obsessed for a while, and then I became philosophical about it. It's there, I know it, but I wasn't meant to have it."
"The treasure out on the reef is still there, you found a coin," Jimmy said.
"I did, but that is going to be hard to find as well. Time and tides have worked those wrecks for a long time. Like the other chest, that one is long gone as well and the coins scattered... but... "
"But... but what?" Jimmy asked.
"The coral may have kept it from sinking and that's good. That was all one hundred and thirty-seven years ago, the coral may have swallowed it up by now," Clark said.
"Is that good? Why would that be good?" Gene asked.
"Because it will all be together in one place. It won't look like gold now, the pressure of the coral will have pressed it together in one lump, and now it might just look like a funny rock formation. But if you were to take a small tool and scratch it the gold will show, that's how to find it."
"That's why you said snorkel, we would have to dive down there and search. The bottom out there is twenty or thirty feet," Gene said.
"It is, I measured it," Clark said.
"So why didn't you dive for it?" Jimmy asked.
Clark sighed. "This is the part I was hoping not to tell you about. I'm afraid of swimming underwater. I can but it terrifies me, all because... because I nearly drown during the war when my ship was sunk."
"Oh... that's terrible," Jimmy said. "I'm sorry."
Clark smiled. "I'm sorry too. We lost a lot of good men, people I admired. Thank you."
"You still sail don't you?" Gene asked.
"I do whenever I can get a crew together. My son owns that boat now, I gave it to him a few years ago. But what am I saying, you have a boat now."
Gene smiled. "It will sail soon as I get it in the water."
"I told you to bring it over," Clark said. "What are you waiting for?"
"I guess we've both been so busy," Jimmy said. "Working men you know."
"According to the Keynoter it's your own fault that Hal's business is booming."
"Yeah, well. Gene is working hard too. If we get the boat out there how long will it take us to find the wrecks?"
"We only have the clues provided in Michael's journal," Clark said. "It seems they were right off the inlet when that chest was tossed overboard. The only change in the landscape since then has been that little bit of breakwater which was added twenty years ago to protect this house from a storm surge. You might find it after a few dives or it might take you months."
Jimmy nodded. "We have lots of time to search, but we won't get anywhere unless we know how to sail that boat."
"Very true," Clark said.
"May I read the book?" Gene asked.
"You may, unless your mother plans on coming over here and complaining."
"Oh, that will never happen," Gene said. "She reads murder mysteries."
"Nelson knows about the book. My mother's fault I'm afraid," Jimmy said.
"Nelson is an interesting character," Clark said. "If he finds out what we're doing he'll want in on the search. Some people are obsessed with wealth and the less they have the greater the obsession. I would be careful what you tell him."
"He says he has a lot of experience with diving, I almost asked him to show us how to do it," Jimmy said.
"And maybe you should to distract him," Clark said. "Collecting coral and shells off the bottom to sell might be enough of an explanation to convince him that's your interest."
"We won't say a word about the treasure chest on the reef," Gene said.
"But your first order of business is learning to sail," Clark said.
"We'll get the boat over here on Monday, how's that?" Jimmy asked.
"Perfect."
They had some rain the following weekend, and the remains of that storm trailed north into the Gulf and developed into a tropical storm with thirty-five mile per hour winds. Within days it had joined forces with an easterly storm off the Mexican coast and picked up speed. Heading further east, Hurricane Brenda crashed ashore north of Tampa Bay and blew across the state. By the time it turned north and followed the east coast of the country it had winds of sixty miles per hour.
On Sunday Gene's father helped the boy load the sailboat on a trailer and hauled it over to Clark's inlet where it sat bobbing at the dock awaiting the beginning of sailing lessons. A dinghy this size could be manned by one person with skill, two novices ought to be able to figure it out. And so on Monday after a long discussion about the points of sailing Jimmy and Gene set forth across the inlet and back.
Clark sat under an umbrella at the end of the dock and watched. Even if they tipped the boat over it would be a lesson learned, but Gene was a cautious captain. Up and back, tacking this way and that. The boys learned that wind was an inconsistent force allowing them to close haul in one direction and then watching as a slight shift would cause the sail to luff and flap uselessly.
The breeze along the bight seemed to blow inland and at some points they were able to run before the wind. Gene had a steady hand on the tiller, but like most novices he was excited and became confused when it came time to turn. The sail jibed as Jimmy pulled on the lines a bit too hard and Gene accelerated the motion with his tiller. The boom swung so fast it nearly knocked Jimmy off the boat. Clark laughed as he watched these antics from afar.
It took Gene three passes to line the boat up with the dock so they could tie off. Needless to say he had a greater empathy for his brother's crash into the dock once they were ashore.
"Damn, it takes forever to get somewhere like that," Jimmy said.
"Sailing is an art," Clark said. "But think of the joy and excitement of sailing before the wind two hundred years ago. Some of those ships could make twenty knots, and back then that must have felt like flying. You boys did quite well. Maybe after a few weeks you'll be ready for the open seas."
"Weeks? Why do we have to wait that long?" Jimmy asked.
"Even in the relatively shallow waters of this inlet you will eventually take a bath," Clark said. "As you now know sailing is a combination of factors, and how you react to them. The wind out beyond the inlet is stiffer, more inconsistent; you have to be ready for it. Your dinghy doesn't have much of a keel underneath so you may sail in shallow water by pulling the dagger board up, but that's also your weakness.
"At some point the wind will heel the boat way over on it's side and scare the crap out of you. One wrong move of the tiller and the boat goes over giving you both a bath. You both know how to swim, but you also know the dangers in the water out there. If you snap the mast, rip off the sheet, lose the lines... well, that's why we have the Coast Guard," Clark laughed.
Jimmy knew he was right; they were facing dangers and thrills alike. They had lunch and sailed again in the confines of the inlet until Clark needed to rest. Gene tied up the dinghy and the boys escorted Clark up to the house.
"I know you're itching to try the open sea, maybe next week," Clark said. "You boys enjoy your week and stop by if you get the chance."
"I still have a lot of reading to do," Gene said. "It's a fascinating story. Good bye, Admiral."
"Bye, boys."
Jimmy fired up his motorcycle and they took off, stopping at the end of the driveway. Across the road was the Martin property, a vast tract of land filled with scrub pines and cord grass.
"Don't let it drive you crazy," Gene said. "Clark is right, we'll never find it."
"I bet Nelson wouldn't see it that way," Jimmy replied. "I bet he'd dig up half the island if he could."
"Let's not encourage him, okay?"
"Can we go see that movie next weekend?" Jimmy asked.
"You wanna see Frank Sinatra?" Gene laughed.
"It's a movie about crime, the paper said, I doubt if he'll be doing any singing."
"Fine, I'll tell my Mom. I wonder why they call it Ocean's Eleven, it doesn't have anything to do with sailing," Gene said.
"Dunno, guess we'll find out."
Jimmy dropped Gene off behind the house as usual and scooted down the back roads towards home. He was on the county road when he saw the Martin's car sitting beside the mailbox. He slowed down and saw Ms. Bea sitting behind the wheel.
Beatrice and Samantha Martin were two real characters. 'Richer than God' his father always said, but they didn't act like it. Every time Jimmy saw them he always asked after their health and offered to do any small chores they might have.
Like Clark they lived in a well appointed home that seemed just about right for two old spinsters. Bea liked her nightly radio programs while Samantha favored her piano and kitchen. Both of them were in their seventies and everyone kept an eye on them in case they needed something.
Bea must have seen him coming because she opened the door of the car and got out.
"I don't understand, the engine just stopped running," She said.
Jimmy put down the stand on his cycle and slid behind the steering wheel. This had happened before and there was usually just one cause. Jimmy turned the key and stared down at the gas gauge, it didn't even budge.
"You're out of gas, Ms. Bea," Jimmy said.
"Oh my, I just put some in last month," Bea said.
She did all the driving, and only to the market. Jimmy imagined the car might get twenty miles a week on the odometer and with that a tank of gas would last a long time. But he also knew Bea never filled the tank and lost track when it started to run low. He wasn't even sure she knew what the fuel gauge looked like.
"I'll carry your groceries up to the house and call my father. He'll fix you right up," Jimmy said.
Bea gave him a large smile and nodded. "You're such a good boy, don't you ever change."
Jimmy hefted the two sacks and followed behind the woman as they walked up the driveway. He understood what she had said about changing; the stories about her past had spread all over the island. Gossip was rife among the islanders. Jimmy knew his mother was one of the worst offenders. He rarely told his mother when he talked to the Martin sisters because she would quiz him to death every time he did.
Of the two sisters Beatrice was the only one who had married back when the century was young. Jimmy knew all this after overhearing his mother blab it all to his father. Bea and her husband had a child, a boy, and the baby was born right after his father went off to war... and then never came back.
They had lived in Atlanta back then, her husband the oldest son of a wealthy family. His wealth came to her with a separate trust for the boy. The tragedy of her son's life was the focus of most gossip as it was said he died in the second war as a fighter pilot over England. Bea had sought comfort from her sister and they had moved to Marathon after the war ended, one of the first wealthy residents to live there year round.
Jimmy didn't care about all that nonsense, he knew Bea to be a kind and generous old lady who often didn't seem to have her wits about her. Like the other residents of the island it made him protective and helpful to the women. This was a small community and everyone counted.
He lugged the two bags up the stairs and onto the porch. Bea stopped to pet her iguana, a giant lizard that always scared the hell out of Jimmy. It lived on the porch and was easily four or five feet long, and boy did it have teeth. He'd never been bitten by the creature that Bea called Iggy.
She opened the front door and called out to her sister. "Yoo-hoo, Sammy... the car did it to me again."
Samantha walked into the hall from the kitchen and beamed when she saw Jimmy with the groceries.
"Did she run you over?" Sammy asked.
"No ma'am, she just ran out of gas," Jimmy replied.
"And her white knight came along to the rescue, how wonderful."
Bea patted Jimmy on the head and the three of them walked back into the kitchen. Jimmy picked up the phone and called the garage. His father answered.
"Hi, Dad... Ms. Bea again. She's outta gas at the end of her driveway."
He heard his father chuckle. "Fine, I'll be along in about an hour." And that was that.
Sammy had been baking again and on the counter sat two cakes and a pie, Key Lime by the looks of it.
"Hmm, something smells mighty good," Jimmy said, fishing for a piece of something baked.
"I'll have some pie for you in just a minute," Sammy said. "Let me put the groceries up first."
"Dottie said to say hello and tell you that Duncan Hines is having a sale on cake mixes next week," Bea said.
"She knows I prefer the Betty Crocker, always trying to sell me something," Sammy said.
"Well, dear... that's why she's in business. Help yourself to the milk, Jimmy."
He went to the cupboard and pulled down a glass, but he nearly dropped it when he felt something brush up against his leg. This was Betty, iguana number two. She didn't look as threatening as Iggy and she had a beautiful green skin.
The iguanas were here long before people came along and the Martin sisters didn't seem to mind having them around. The creatures were almost fully domesticated and Jimmy knew they prevented any kind of critter or crawler from entering the house.
Jimmy sat at the table while Samantha cut him a piece of pie. Bea sat down with him and smiled.
"Did you hear Senator Kennedy's speech last month?" She asked. "A 'New Frontier' he's declaring, we have to fight the Communists together."
Jimmy nodded. "He'd make an interesting President."
"That he would, a Catholic you know. Any man who goes to church on Sunday would make a good President. So what have you been doing this summer?"
Jimmy had told the sisters about his stint on the fishing boat, but obviously Bea had forgotten.
"I'm working for Captain Hal on the Marathon Queen."
"Ahh, a sailor, how nice. Samantha and I used to go sailing when we were younger, didn't we, dear?"
"We went out in a row boat on the river, Bea. I don't exactly think you could call that sailing," Sammy replied.
"Yes... well, it was fun nonetheless. The sun on your face and the wind in your hair. That was lots of excitement for a little girl at that time." Bea smiled at the memory.
Sammy sat a piece of pie in front of Jimmy and he thanked her. Key Lime was his favorite, and her pies were the best on the island. The sturdy thorn covered tree grew in many places on the islands, but Sammy favored the ones in her back yard.
"Oh this is wonderful," Jimmy said after his first bite. The tartness of the lime in her pies was always just right. "When are you going to give my mom your recipe?"
"You know it's my secret. You're always welcome to come have pie with us."
"I don't imagine those godless Communists could torture the secret out of her," Bea laughed and Sammy stuck out her tongue in response.
Jimmy ate his pie, thanked the sisters and then walked back down the driveway to await his father. The pines along the road screened the house from view, but the rest of their land was open except for a few trees here and there. Even if he had wanted to go searching for treasure the sisters would see him, or anyone else for that matter.
His father came along with a can of gas and poured it into the tank. Jimmy got behind the wheel and cranked the car until it started. Now came the fun part as Jimmy put the car in gear and eased out the clutch. Ever so slowly he drove the car up the driveway to the house and parked it. He ran inside and told Bea the car was working, but also reminded her to stop and get some gas tomorrow.
By the time he got home his father was already working on that first beer.
"How much did she tip you?" His father asked.
"I didn't ask for anything, I got pie," Jimmy replied.
"Oh yes, that's so much better. She ought to sell those darn things."
The Lion's Club had thrown a fund raiser for the new fire station the year before. Sammy had baked for a week, filling several tables with pies and cakes. Jimmy remembered his father buying a whole Key Lime pie and then sitting down with a fork. It was so good he ate the whole thing by himself, and then had a bellyache all evening.
Jimmy told his father about the sailing lessons and how Clark wouldn't let them leave the inlet just yet. His father nodded and agreed it might be wise to wait until their skills improved. Despite having served in the Navy during the war, his father had never learned how to sail. He was a mechanic on board ship and had used that knowledge to start his business.
They reached the end of July and slid into the doldrums of August. It was hot that week, the sand seemed like it would fry your feet so everyone wore sandals or left the island. Even the tourists failed to appear and Hal kept the Queen at the dock for most of the week. That was fine with Jimmy; he was out to become an expert sailor.
Gene was halfway through the journal and was astounded by what he was reading. Of course he had been all keyed up to sail and snorkel ever since Jimmy told him how the story ended. But he still planned on reading it for himself.
Jimmy had found diving masks and snorkels at the sundry store, but they looked pretty cheap, like things the tourists would buy. He had the money for better equipment and so Mr. Osborne told him the nearest dive shop for professional quality gear was in Key West.
It was Gene's father who came to the rescue, returning one afternoon from a trip to Miami with two masks, snorkels and swim fins made of high quality rubber. Now all they had to do was learn how to use them, but neither boy was sure Nelson was the one to ask. The man's curiosity in pirate gold had not ceased, but at least now Jimmy would spend a week away from him.
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