Buried Secrets at Louisbourg (6 page)

“What?” Fred ASKED. He blinked
up at the re-enactor his dad had argued with the previous night. One of his eyes drooped lower than the other, the lid half closed. Maybe he usually wore an eye patch—like some super-sized pirate. With the guy already wearing a puffy shirt and cut-off pants, it wasn't hard to imagine. He just needed a parrot on his shoulder.

“I heard you say ‘treasure.'” The man stepped closer.

Fred could smell him—sweat and burnt bacon. “N-no…what?” He gulped. “Oh, that! We were just—”

“Making up a game,” Mai said.

The giant's eyebrow rose to the middle of his forehead. “Really? What kind of game?” He nudged past Fred and peered into the tent opening.

“W-what are you doing?” Fred asked.

“Friend of your dad's,” he said. “Thought I'd stop by to say hello.” He lifted back a tent flap and stepped closer. “Where is he?”

“He's not here.”

“So I see.” The man continued looking into the tent. Finally, he turned back to Mai, Fred, and Grace. “Tell me more about this game of yours.”

It didn't sound like a request. Fred's brain was in overdrive. All he could think about was protecting the box. It took all his willpower to stay put and not run into the tent and grab it.

“We thought it would make the encampment more fun,” Mai said.

“How's that?”

“Um, you know…pretend there's a treasure…and, uh…explore around to find it.” She tugged on her hair. If she didn't stop, she'd pull out a chunk.

“Yeah, you know, just kid stuff,” Grace chimed in.

“Kid stuff,” the giant repeated. He glanced back at their tents.

Fred felt like he could read his mind. The giant wanted to search them. Fred couldn't let him do that. He wouldn't.

“What's going on?”

Jeeter strolled toward their site from the quay. He was taller and more muscular than Fred remembered from earlier in the summer. What was he doing, popping muscle pills?

The giant turned to face Jeeter. “Who would you be?”

“I'm me,” Jeeter retorted. “Who are you?”

The giant surveyed them, one by one. Then he seemed to make a decision. His grim face changed. “Ha, ha,” he chuckled, “enjoy your
treasure
game, kids.”

Fred, Jeeter, Mai, and Grace stood in a semi-circle and glared. Fred wasn't interested in pretending to be friendly.

“Yes, well,” the giant continued in his Mr.-Nice-Guy voice. “I'm
sure
I'll see you around.” He winked at Fred and started walking away. “Oh, tell your dad I said hello,” he called back over his shoulder.

Fred felt the strength drain from his legs. He leaned against the seawall.

“Freddo, my man,” Jeeter said with a low whistle. “This is some mess you're in.”

Fred's eyes followed the giant as he walked along the quay toward the front gate. He stopped, leaned against the corner of the LaGrange House, and stared back at them. The giant grinned and lifted a hand in greeting.

Mess was an understatement!

* * *

Huddled in Fred's tent, the four friends were almost sitting on top of each other.

“Do you think he's gone?” Mai asked.

“Don't know,” Fred said. “But if he thinks we're hiding something, I don't think he's going to go far.”

Grace fidgeted, pulling at her dress. “We can't stay here all day.”

“I know,” Fred said.

Mai was tugging her hair again. Grace was right. They couldn't stay cooped up in here all day. He ran through the map of the fortress in his head. If they could make it away from the tent undetected, they'd be home free. There were plenty of places to hide on the fortress grounds.

“Okay,” Fred said. “I've got an idea.” On his hands and knees, he poked his head out from under the rear of the tent. The coast seemed clear. “Come out,” he said. Mai, Grace, and then Jeeter crawled behind him out from under the canvas.

“Now what?” Grace asked. “If we go out on that quay thingy, we'll be spotted for sure.”

They stood, squished together. Mai was pressed against his side. Her smooth hair brushed against his chin. He breathed in the sweet scent, wishing he could freeze time and stay in this moment.

“Yo, Fred,” Grace snapped. “What now?”

So much for the moment.

With another quick survey to make sure they weren't being watched, he dashed across to the gate between the two empty buildings. He waved the others on and they scurried to join him.

He led them through the gate into the enclosure with the garden. He'd remembered right—there was another gate at the back of the garden. He unhooked the latch and stuck his head out. Still clear.

Crouched behind the building, Fred peered around the corner at the end of the quay. A few tourists were walking up from the ruins. But there was no sign of the giant or crazy Gerard.

“We'll go straight up to the museum and then around the back of the fortress to the bastion,” he said. “That circles the outside of the town. If the giant still has our campsite under surveillance from the same spot, we should miss him.”

“So, who is he?” Mai asked. “I mean, he knows your dad, right? Why are we hiding from him? Other than because he's gigantic and scary looking?”

“Ummm,” Fred stalled. What could he say, really? It was only a hunch, after all. He didn't know for
sure
his dad had hooked up with a criminal.

“Fred,” Mai said. “You have to tell us—what's going on?”

“Yeah,” Grace said. “Seriously, it's bad enough we're trying to stay away from Gerard the psycho soldier, and now we've got
another
stalker?”

Fred studied the faces of his two best friends. They looked a bit…scared. Even Grace. What would they think about his dad's meeting with the giant the night before? Would they find the conversation as suspicious as he did? But they'd already found out so much about Fred's life—too much. Besides, he could be totally off base. “I don't know,” he said, “just a feeling.”

“A feeling?” Jeeter asked. “That's it? Now you're psychic?”

“Psychic? Awesome. Tell me my future,” Grace said. She held her finger to her forehead. “Wait, I'm getting something. Yeah…I see bags of money. No…make that a room full of money…and jewels…”

“I told you, no sharing.”

“Funny Freddo,” Grace said. “Three ways—I'm not kidding.”

Fred stormed ahead on the dirt path that bordered the left side of town, up toward the museum. Grace got on his nerves sometimes. As if he was going to share. The money from the jewels was for something really important. Life-or-death important. He just hoped it was enough.

The dirt from the dry
road churned in mini dust devils as they walked up the low hill. Tiny specks of rock bit Fred's face. He squinted up at the sky. Thick clouds were racing by on fast-forward. A gust of wind from the white-capped sea whistled across the ruins on his left.

“Ouch! I got dirt in my eye!” Grace said.

“Here, let me see,” Mai offered. “I've got a clean cloth. Jeeter, come stand beside us and block the wind, okay?”

Wind-blocker Jeeter. Another thing he was better at, just because he was taller. Mai, Grace, and Jeeter huddled together. Fred turned sideways with his back to the trio, the wind, and the sea. The rebuilt town of the Fortress of Louisbourg was laid out below him. The bastion with its tower and multitude of chimneys stood guard to his left, up the steep slope, a dozen soldiers marching toward its front gate.

Somewhere in the maze of houses, military quarters, and shops below was a way to open his box. To save his family with his ancestor's treasure. The box! He'd left it well hidden beneath his sleeping bag, thinking it was safe there in case they got frisked or worse by Gerard. Now, doubt filled him. He shouldn't have let it out of his sight.

Of course Jeeter chose that second to come over. “So, what's the plan again, Freddo?”

“I have to go back to the tent for a second. Be right back.” Fred was already heading back down toward their site.

“Where are you going?” Mai called. “Fred, wait.”

“You guys stay here—I'll only be a minute.”

That's when he saw him. Charging up from the town. Headed straight for them. The giant! They hadn't fooled him after all. His instinct to flee took over. He whirled around. “Run!” he cried.

“Run?” Mai said. “What's wrong?”

Fred shoved her in front of him. “Giant!” he yelled.

“Eeep!” Mai squealed. She grabbed Grace's sleeve and the four of them scurried up the slope. Well, as fast as they could with chiselled tree stumps on their feet.

Fred frantically scoured the landscape. Maybe they could hide in the tall clumps of grass and wildflowers on their right. Were the plants tall enough to hide them if they scooched down?

Grace stumbled. “Stupid cloggy crap shoes!” she cried.

“The museum,” Jeeter said, veering left.

Everyone was panicked. They were like a pack of herbivores being chased by a Tyrannosaurus rex. They tripped up the stone steps after him, the four of them tumbling through the entrance together, a mass of arms and legs. Someone's clog went flying and sailed through the air.

Thunk!

Klunk!

Plunk!

It bounced like a skipping rock into the middle of the floor. Fred looked down at his feet. Of course it was his. He unwrapped his arm from around Jeeter's leg and pulled a wad of Grace's hair, which was still attached to her head, from his mouth.

The few nearby tourists had all turned from the displays and were staring. Glass cases lined the walls of the large open room, filled with unearthed artifacts. In the centre was a miniature model of the fortress, fully rebuilt and including the ruins. His shoe had skidded underneath it.

Fred kept his eyes glued to his shoe as he hobbled toward it like a pirate with a peg leg.
Klap. Klap. Klap.
His steps with his wooden-clad foot echoed off the high ceiling. He slid his socked foot into the wooden shoe. As he turned around, the unfriendly giant barged through the entry.

He loomed menacingly, blocking out the light. As strange as Fred and his friends' clumsy entrance must have been, this new distraction seemed to trump it. In unison, all eyes in the room fixated on him.

And he was a bewildering sight. With his giant stature, pirate-like dress and unsmiling face, he looked like a larger-than-life cartoon villain. Shadows accentuated his scowl as he glared at Fred.

“My goodness, whatever is going on here?”

Fred turned to meet the confused gaze of the archaeologist they'd met on the dig the day before.

“My avid young archaeologists,” she said. “Causing another ruckus, I see?” Her kind eyes crinkled at the corners.

“Sorry,” Fred mumbled. “I tripped.”

Her smile widened as she noticed his footwear. “Well, no wonder, with those things on your feet. Come for that visit?”

Fred stared at her blankly. Visit?

“Yes, that's right,” Mai said. She'd scrambled to her feet and was smoothing her tousled hair.

“Excellent.”

More light seemed to suddenly fill the room and Fred glanced back toward the doorway. The giant had vanished. What if he went back to their tents? Fred felt sick. He had to get back there. “Um, actually, maybe we could come back later. I just remembered—”

“Nonsense,” the archaeologist said. “It's no trouble at all. Come along, I'll give you a personal tour.”

Fred looked helplessly back at Mai, Grace, and Jeeter. Grace shrugged. Well, how long could it take? It was only one room, after all.

How wrong he was. Case by case, they worked their way around the exhibit. Each buckle, halberd top, ice creeper, door handle and belt hook was described in excruciating and boring detail. The handcuff and thumbscrew display barely even caught his attention. And Mai was making it ten times worse with a question every thirty seconds.

They moved on to another case. Mai's lips parted. Fred tapped her ankle with the pointy end of his shoe.

“Ouch,” she whispered, shooting him a dagger look.

“Stop with the questions. We haven't got all day!” he hissed back.

“I can't help it. They just pop out.”

“Pop them back in.” He manoeuvred in front of her so he was closest to the archaeologist.

“And here we are, the last case,” the woman announced with a flourish.

Finally! Fred pretended to be interested, leaning obediently forward to look in the case. His breath caught. Inside were two boxes just like his. And a bunch of wrought-iron keys.

“What are these?” he asked, tapping the case.

“Oops, don't touch the glass,” she chastised. “You mean the boxes?”

“Yes, do they open?”

“You are a peculiar young man,” she said, shaking her head. “The torture devices you barely blink at. But metal boxes you're excited about?”

“What was inside them?” Fred continued. “Can we take one out? Do those keys fit?”

“Whoa! Let me think. I'd have to check the records, but I don't recall any notations that there were objects found inside. I'm not quite sure if the keys even belong to these particular boxes. All of these artifacts were likely found at different locations across the grounds.”

Fred stared intently at the boxes, trying to memorize every detail. They really did look identical, except the keyholes weren't filled in. “Could I hold one?”

“Absolutely not, I'm sorry. That is not permitted.”

He bit back disappointment. “What about the records? Would they say if the keys came with these boxes and where they were found?”

She looked at him curiously. “Why on earth would you want to know that?”

“I, uh…really like…boxes,” he said, feeling a flush creeping into his cheeks.

“Is that right?” She didn't look convinced.

“I thought…” He racked his brain. “Maybe I could write about them for school or something. You know, part of our report.”

She brightened and shot him a huge smile. “What a fine idea. Anything that gets a student interested is worth a little effort. Even if it's metal boxes. Give me a moment.”

She bustled over to a door marked
Do Not Enter—Employees Only
. She took a key from her pocket, unlocked it, and slipped inside.

“Geez, Fred, enough with this lame place already,” Grace groaned. “I'm going outside.”

“Me too,” Jeeter added, following Grace toward the door.

“What are you up to, Freddo?” Mai asked.

“One of these keys might fit my box.”

“But you heard her. You can't take them out of the case.”

Fred could feel the excitement rushing through him.
His fingers twitched, ready to do his bidding. “We'll see about that.”