mind races fast, and I grab her too and all
three of us are in a big hug. That was too close. Sara looks
surprised and smiles. I think she bought it.
“We found it! We're going to be rich!” I sing.
“Found what?” Sara questions.
I point to the boulder. “The Old Man. It's right
under his nose.” Sara turns around and stares at the boulder. “Oh
my gosh, you're right.”
Now that I have a closer look, I can see the way the
Old Man boulder is resting on other larger rocks, there's a big
opening beneath it. It's sort of like a cave, but not really
because it's actually just a large gap between boulders. The three
of us, on hands and knees, crowd around the opening looking in.
From out here it looks like it might go a long ways back, but it's
too dark in there to really tell.
“It's as dark as the bottom of a molasses barrel,”
Jo says. “Treasure or no treasure, I’m sure as heck not going in
there without a flashlight.”
“She's right,” Sara says peering into the dark. “It
doesn't pay to go in there until we have some light.”
“I'm just going to see if I can see anything.”
Slowly I crawl in hoping my eyes will adjust to the inky darkness.
About ten feet in, BANG, I crack my head into a low part of the
rock. “Ow.” I groan. There's no sense in banging my head any worse,
so I back out.
“What did you see?” Sara asks helping me to my
feet.
Rubbing the sore spot on my head, I say, “I didn't see the rock in front of my head. We better head back
to the boat and get some flashlights.”
* * *
It's taken us almost an hour and a half to return to
the leaky dingy, row out, find the flashlights, then hike all the
way back here. While we are walking back toward the Old Man, just
like it usually does this time of year, a heavy fog begins to creep
in. At least now we're not out on the water trying to find our way
between splashing surf that's trying to crash the boat. But the
gray covers the island like a damp blanket making it almost
impossible to tell the difference between land and sky; it's all
just gray. Somewhere off on the mainland the sound of a fog horn
carries all the way out here. Noises seem to be amplified by the
heavy air; bell-buoys that are miles away on the water sound like
they're just around the next corner.
Now with flashlights in hand, our excitement has
eased from when we first found The Nose. We're no longer talking
nonstop about all the things we're going to do with the money.
We've calmed down a bit each in our own thoughts.
My mind, of course, keeps drifting back to Jo's
kiss. I know it's not right; I'm going out with Sara. I don't want
to mess that up. But Jo's kiss was—a smile breaks across my face.
Then a thought occurs to me, and it suddenly becomes crystal clear.
I clench my fist so tight my knuckles hurt.
It’s just another way she's messing with my head.
And it's working perfectly. Is she that brilliant at messing with
guys’ heads? Jo. I don't understand that chic. She says one thing
then does something else. I better watch my step around her. The
more I think about it the less I'm starting to like her. Even less
than when she first stepped aboard the boat. I had only known her a
minute before she was giving me a hard time.
Sara grabs my elbow snapping me out of my thoughts.
“It's a good thing this island is narrow because in this fog it'd
take us a week to find our way back to The Old Man.”
In this heavy murk, as we hike along the path, rocks
and boulders materialize out of the colorless gray like ghosts. My
heart skips a beat when a low shrub ahead of us, appears from
nowhere, its branches, at first glance, looked like arms reaching
out for us. I chuckle pointing at the shrub. “Look, Sara, it's
Blarney Bart. I'm going to slice you to pieces, Sara Banks ,”
I say in my best pirate's voice.
“ But I'm just an innocent girl. ” Sara says.
“ The person you really want is Fisher Shoemaker. He's evil. ”
Without warning she shoves me into
three of us are in a big hug. That was too close. Sara looks
surprised and smiles. I think she bought it.
“We found it! We're going to be rich!” I sing.
“Found what?” Sara questions.
I point to the boulder. “The Old Man. It's right
under his nose.” Sara turns around and stares at the boulder. “Oh
my gosh, you're right.”
Now that I have a closer look, I can see the way the
Old Man boulder is resting on other larger rocks, there's a big
opening beneath it. It's sort of like a cave, but not really
because it's actually just a large gap between boulders. The three
of us, on hands and knees, crowd around the opening looking in.
From out here it looks like it might go a long ways back, but it's
too dark in there to really tell.
“It's as dark as the bottom of a molasses barrel,”
Jo says. “Treasure or no treasure, I’m sure as heck not going in
there without a flashlight.”
“She's right,” Sara says peering into the dark. “It
doesn't pay to go in there until we have some light.”
“I'm just going to see if I can see anything.”
Slowly I crawl in hoping my eyes will adjust to the inky darkness.
About ten feet in, BANG, I crack my head into a low part of the
rock. “Ow.” I groan. There's no sense in banging my head any worse,
so I back out.
“What did you see?” Sara asks helping me to my
feet.
Rubbing the sore spot on my head, I say, “I didn't see the rock in front of my head. We better head back
to the boat and get some flashlights.”
* * *
It's taken us almost an hour and a half to return to
the leaky dingy, row out, find the flashlights, then hike all the
way back here. While we are walking back toward the Old Man, just
like it usually does this time of year, a heavy fog begins to creep
in. At least now we're not out on the water trying to find our way
between splashing surf that's trying to crash the boat. But the
gray covers the island like a damp blanket making it almost
impossible to tell the difference between land and sky; it's all
just gray. Somewhere off on the mainland the sound of a fog horn
carries all the way out here. Noises seem to be amplified by the
heavy air; bell-buoys that are miles away on the water sound like
they're just around the next corner.
Now with flashlights in hand, our excitement has
eased from when we first found The Nose. We're no longer talking
nonstop about all the things we're going to do with the money.
We've calmed down a bit each in our own thoughts.
My mind, of course, keeps drifting back to Jo's
kiss. I know it's not right; I'm going out with Sara. I don't want
to mess that up. But Jo's kiss was—a smile breaks across my face.
Then a thought occurs to me, and it suddenly becomes crystal clear.
I clench my fist so tight my knuckles hurt.
It’s just another way she's messing with my head.
And it's working perfectly. Is she that brilliant at messing with
guys’ heads? Jo. I don't understand that chic. She says one thing
then does something else. I better watch my step around her. The
more I think about it the less I'm starting to like her. Even less
than when she first stepped aboard the boat. I had only known her a
minute before she was giving me a hard time.
Sara grabs my elbow snapping me out of my thoughts.
“It's a good thing this island is narrow because in this fog it'd
take us a week to find our way back to The Old Man.”
In this heavy murk, as we hike along the path, rocks
and boulders materialize out of the colorless gray like ghosts. My
heart skips a beat when a low shrub ahead of us, appears from
nowhere, its branches, at first glance, looked like arms reaching
out for us. I chuckle pointing at the shrub. “Look, Sara, it's
Blarney Bart. I'm going to slice you to pieces, Sara Banks ,”
I say in my best pirate's voice.
“ But I'm just an innocent girl. ” Sara says.
“ The person you really want is Fisher Shoemaker. He's evil. ”
Without warning she shoves me into
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