The Old Cape Teapot (5 page)

“I have prepared a special meal for you. I hope that it will bring you pleasure.”

“I’m sure it will.” I sat next to Brian at the table closest to the end of the lean-to’s roofline, giving us a wonderful view of the horizon. “This is so nice,” I said as balmy tropical breezes caressed our faces. “I guess we don’t get a choice of food?”

“No, we just eat whatever she serves us.”

“But you know I don’t like spicy foods….”

“Mom, shhhh.” Brian placed his hand over mine, trying to calm my fear. “Please, just sit back and relax.”

I felt a little irritated with his attitude but realized that he was probably right. But even after a nice long breath of ocean air, I still kept wondering about my mystery dinner.

Nick finally showed up. “Sorry I’m late. Got held up in a
meeting.”
He sat next to me. “Great to see you again, Mrs. C. Did you have a
good sleep last night?”

“Not bad, except for the sirens and other surprises.” I gave Brian a friendly glare.

Nick stared at my necklace. “Hey, I thought you weren’t going to wear it out?”

“I couldn’t resist wearing it tonight. It’s perfect for a tropical evening on the beach. Besides, it’s pretty quiet down here.”

He smiled. “Well, you be careful with it; you don’t want
anything
to happen to it that you might regret.” He ordered a beer and leaned in closer. “You know, I’m still so curious about that treasure you found.”

So the inquisitive Nick is back. Actually, it was nice to have
someone who was interested in my story; everyone at home was tired of me talking about it. “What do you want to know?”

“Tell me everything.”

He sounded enthusiastic. I leaned back, pleased to have a fan. “From the beginning, I never intended to be a treasure hunter. It just
happened.” I noticed that Brian seemed disinterested, as usual. He
got up to look out onto the sandy beach. One of the guys from the
bar went over to talk to him.

Nick scooted his chair even closer and distracted me from
watching Brian. “It must have been unnerving to find the little baby’s skull in the root cellar. Brian said that’s when you also found the three pieces of gold?”

“Yes, and as soon as the discovery hit the papers, all the intrigue started.”

Our waiter, a tall young man, dressed in white, about 17 years old, introduced himself as Junior. After serving our drinks, he
waited to be
dismissed but kept watching me or maybe the necklace. I wasn’t
sure. I thought again for a moment that I should’ve left it back in the house.
My nerves began to ramp up higher on top of the anticipation of
what I had to eat.

Brian returned to the table. “Mom, this is John Julian’s oldest son.”

That was a small relief. He wasn’t anyone sinister, just a local kid and someone Brian knew. I smiled at him. “I met your father today. We had a great lunch at his eatery.”

Young Junior bowed his head. “I’ll tell him of your compliment. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll return shortly.” Turning on his heel, he left to fill a pitcher of water for us.

Ms. Judith came out of the swinging doors that separated the kitchen from the dining area carrying two plates filled with a mound of multi-colored food and headed in our direction. “My specialty.
Enjoy.”

Decorating each white dish was a stew-like food that lay nestled on top of brown rice. A quick glance with wide eyes was exchanged between Brian and me as we scanned our dinner. Nick smiled and looked as if he could hardly wait for his serving. I stared at my plate and then over to Brian’s and whispered, “What is it?”

“Goat stew,” he answered under his breath.

“What did you say?”

“Goat stew!”

A cute, fuzzy, little face with big brown eyes popped into my head. I fell back against my plastic beach chair, not wanting anything to do with Ms. Jones’s specialty.

With the arrival of Nick’s plate, I had no choice but to begin eating the brown pieces of meat that were scattered among the
vegetables. My fork timidly began pecking at the rice around the edges of the plate
and then the utensil slowly found its way into my mouth. The rice was good and the sauce tasty. Confident, I ventured further into the middle and tried the bite-sized meat. It wasn’t terrible, but I couldn’t
bring myself to eat any more. “I’m not sure how much I can eat of this.”

Brian eyed his food and quietly said, “You better finish; it would
be an insult to Ms. Judith. Remember, you get to go home; I have
some more time here on the island.”

“Can I give you some from my portion?” My plate inched its
way closer to Brian’s.

He placed his hand on the table, separating his dish from mine, preventing any chance of my food being deposited onto his plate. “Are you kidding, I can barely get it down myself.”

Nick was quiet as he dug into his meal, ignoring our discomfort. There was no talking at our table, just careful, anxious eating.

When Nick was almost finished, he asked, “How did you connect the legend of Bellamy and Hallet with the things you found?”

I was happy for another question. “We found some old pieces of
parchment at the bottom of the cellar. On them were dates and
initials that, according to the state archaeologist and carbon testing, pointed to the 1700s and the Samuel Bellamy legend.”

Nick took a quick drink and excused himself to use the restroom. “I’ll be right back. I want more details.”

“How come Nick is so curious?”

“Oh, he’s harmless. He told me he’s nuts for pirates, been that way since he was a kid apparently.”

I smiled to myself, why not? My story is a great adventure.
“What did that guy talk to you about before we got our food?”

“Not much. He just asked where the best sailing was. I told him that I was Peace Corps and had only sailed once on the island.”

The unfinished meal sat in front of me. I racked my brain trying
to come up with a solution as to how I could get out of this
predicament.

“What if I asked to take it home?” I suggested to Brian.

“She’ll know.”

“I have to try; I can’t eat anymore.”

I got up and asked Junior for something to take the food home in for tomorrow’s lunch, hopeful my fib would work. I offered many thanks and compliments upon Ms. Judith for her ability to combine interesting and tasty foods. My effort went well and she retired into
the kitchen with a big smile on her face. As Junior handed me the
tinfoil
container, he asked, “I hope you don’t think me forward, but I
couldn’t help noticing the beautiful jewelry that you’re wearing.”

I placed my hand on my neck, “Thank you, it’s one of my favorites.”

“It resembles earrings that belong to my mother.”

“Really?”

“Yes, they’ve been in my family for many years, handed down from generation to generation.”

My queasy stomach miraculously disappeared as my eyes
widened with interest. “Do you know any history about them?”

“No, I just remember my mother always keeping them in a box under lock and key. She would only wear them for special occasions, like her wedding anniversary.”

“Junior.” A voice called from the kitchen summoning the
teenager away from my next question.

I quickly returned to our table carrying the supposed lunch for
the next day. “Brian, Junior just told me his mother has some
earrings that look like my necklace.”

“Oh yeah? That’s nice. Shall we go? I’m kind of tired and don’t feel so well.”

Somewhat perturbed that he wasn’t interested, I understood his ill feeling and tucked a mental note in my head to make sure to talk to him about Junior’s information later. Brian did look a little pale.

Twinkling stars covered the black night sky. I felt a little better as we walked back up the hill to the house and it seemed that Brian did too. He smiled at me. “Did you enjoy your stew?”

“So…you think it was funny?” I tried to smack him on the
shoulder but he was too quick and dodged my hand.

Nick caught up with us on the sandy path. “Hey, Mrs. C, I’ve got one more question.”

I turned around. “Sure, what else do you want to know?”

“What about the big treasure?”

We continued walking up the hill. “I found that about a year
later,
beneath a huge boulder in our woods. It was in a rotted chest that
was filled with gold and jewels.”

Nick whistled. “Wow! Who would have thought you could find old treasure nowadays.” He stepped in front of me, walking backwards. “How did you know it was Bellamy’s treasure?”

“Based on the parchment found in the cellar and the initials of
S.B. and M.H. on it, I just assumed it was his.”

Nick wistfully looked up to the stars. “Bellamy must have been one hell of an interesting character.”

“That he was! You know, when the
Whydah
was discovered off Cape Cod’s coast in 1986, it made pirate Samuel Bellamy a national treasure.”

Nick went into a pirate mode and jumped ahead of us. He
yelled, “Shiver me timbers and avast, ye mates. ‘Tis a fine night for a stroll!”

At the top of the hill, we laughed some more and then said our goodnights. Nick got into his jeep and disappeared down the dark road. Brian and I walked up the stairs to the house.

“I know what I’m going to do with this stew,” I said, “throw it out!”

Before Brian could say anything sarcastic, he stopped in his
tracks and held up his arm. “Hold it! Something’s wrong here.”

“What?”

“The door’s open. I know I locked it. I always do.” He placed his head close to the screen and listened. “You stay here. I’ll go in and
see what’s going on.”

I stood still holding the pungent remains of those sweet baby goats while Brian quietly reached in and flipped the light switch. I
watched him scan the room. He turned and held his finger to his lips
in a ‘keep quiet’ gesture. More lights went on as he checked the
bedrooms. Within a few minutes he re-appeared.

“It’s okay. No one’s here now, but I think someone was…your
suitcase is a mess.”

I hurried to my bedroom to find my clothes strewn over the floor. I felt sick in my stomach. I couldn’t stand the idea of a stranger rifling through my things. The memory of the night I’d been tied and
gagged
in my own home shot into my head. I sat on the edge of the bed and took some deep breaths, trying to clear my thoughts and bring
myself back into common sense mode.

Brian scanned the other rooms. “The rest of the house seems untouched.”

“I can’t believe someone got in here,” I said in a nervous
whisper. “Do you think they were after this?” I touched my necklace.

“I don’t know, Mom. Maybe.”

“Should we call the police?”

“Not sure. I’ll talk to someone in the office tomorrow.”

I slowly got up and started to straighten my things. “Please
make sure you lock the door tonight and maybe keep a light on in the living room.”

“We’ll be okay.” Brian gave me a hug goodnight.

“Would you shove a chair under the doorknob?”

He moved over to the kitchen area and grabbed a chair. “Don’t worry.”

I felt a little relieved as I watched my son do as he was asked. While brushing my teeth I made a mental note to talk to Brian about Junior’s comment that his mom’s jewelry resembled my necklace
.
But by the time I was finished, he was already asleep. Grabbing my flashlight, I dropped the netting around my bed and crawled in. I fell
asleep thinking that I wanted to go back and visit John Julian at the sandwich place. I’d leave early enough to catch him before eleven-thirty.

***

1722

ANTIGUA

Julian left in the early morning for the Smith’s house to make sure that all was ready for the arrival of the plantation owner’s son. With his own eyes, he confirmed that clean bedding and adequate food
was prepared and that everything else was in its place at the sugar mill. When he was satisfied, he left for the harbor at St. John’s, eager
to find Davis and young Isaac Smith.

Within the hour, he was leaning against a black, oily barrel. John lit his clay pipe, hoping its spicy smoke would mask the putrid
odors of
dead fish, spoiled food, and the sweaty bodies of slaves as they
loaded
and unloaded cargo from the tall ships. On occasion, the sea air blew the stench away, but not today, it was calm and steamy. As he
awaited the sight of the
Voyager
, he felt good; Elizabeth’s news of the child was a pleasant surprise for him.

Isaac Smith had his bags ready on deck, keen to place his feet on land once more. Thomas Davis took his time below. Unlike Isaac, he enjoyed his sail, relishing his time at sea. As the
Voyager
entered the
harbor, its hull skimmed across the glasslike water, headed for its docking.

Davis joined young Isaac against the railing. “We’ll be on land soon. I suspect you’ll be very happy?”

“Yes, I will that,” answered Isaac.

The sun beat upon their heads and, as the ship slowed, the wind lessened its refreshing coolness.

“Are you staying with anyone, Mr. Davis?”

“No, but I’m meeting an old acquaintance.”

“You’re welcome in my house. I’d like to repay you for your kindness towards me while we sailed.” Isaac scanned the dock for
the plantation’s carriage and its overseer.

“That’s very considerate of you, Isaac,” Davis said as he, too,
looked towards the dock for John Julian.

As soon as Julian spotted the vessel, he straightened his shirt and doused his pipe. He was ready to meet Smith and, hopefully, Davis too.