by Bill Noel
He shook his head. “This is different.”
“How?”
He slammed his hand on the center console. “It just is.” He then whispered, “Chris, it just is.”
Not another word was spoken, until we found a parking spot across Center Street from the restaurant.
The Folly Beach Crab Shack was one of the island’s longest-tenured restaurants. Laurie and the Clarks hadn’t arrived, so we had the choice of a table on the covered patio or inside. I would’ve preferred the patio but, after standing in the heat at the funeral, and considering the clothing worn by our luncheon companions, we opted for inside.
A server appeared with water for each of us when the other three arrived and were escorted to the table. Laurie and Gail had replaced their high heels with flats. Dean had abandoned his tie, vest, and suit coat. He looked like he’d walked through a sprinkler. We stood as Laurie hugged each of us then took the chair beside Charles. The Clarks sat on the other side of the table.
“Thank you for choosing inside,” Gail said. “The cool air feels good. We were afraid you’d be on the patio.”
The newcomers were quick to say water when the server, who announced she was Selene and would be taking care of us, returned to ask what they wanted to drink. The color in their faces had turned from standing-in-a-sauna red to pale Caucasian.
Laurie glanced at me then turned to Charles. “Thank you for coming to the funeral. It was nice seeing so many people there who I don’t know that well.”
Gail added, “Laurie’s worried about being here with so few friends. Dean and I’ve encouraged her to move back home.”
Laurie jerked her head toward Gail. “Gail, I appreciate your offer. I told you in the car that this is my home. I’m not going anywhere. Let’s talk about something else. I’m certain these gentlemen aren’t interested.”
She didn’t know Charles.
“Laurie,” he said, “you’re one of us now. Look how many people attended the funeral. They were there for you. We stick together. You don’t have to worry about making friends.”
Gail interrupted, “I’m just saying—”
Laurie interrupted Gail’s interruption, “I’m saying the topic is closed. Let’s order.”
I motioned for Selene before the women exchanged blows. Charles put his arm around Laurie’s shoulder, showing which side he was on. Dean asked Gail if she wanted to head home this afternoon instead of in the morning.
She looked at the menu then said, “No. I promised Laurie we’d stay to help straighten up the house.”
“It’s not that big a mess,” Laurie said, subtly sharing her vote on the Clarks leaving early. “I can take care of it.”
Dean had leaned back in the chair and watched the antagonistic ping-pong match between the women before saying, “Either way is fine with me.”
Gail said, “What time is your meeting tomorrow?”
“After lunch,” Dean said. “There’ll be time if we leave in the morning.”
“Then, it’s final,” Gail said, “We’ll wait until tomorrow.”
Laurie’s glare looked more hostile than one of grief. Selene had stood at the table with pen in hand waiting for the debate to end before offering to take our order. We ordered, and the conversation took a more civil turn. Laurie talked about the restaurant’s colorful walls and the murals. Gail talked about the considerable number of restaurants on Center Street, while Dean stuffed his mouth with peanuts he scooped from a barrel beside the patio door. We ate in silence for a few minutes after the food arrived.
The silence was broken when Laurie said, more to herself than to the rest of us, “All Anthony dreamed about was moving here, finding buried treasure. He said we wouldn’t have to worry about money again.”
Gail, in a gesture of peace, put her hand on Laurie’s arm. “Yes, dear, I know. We’ll miss him terribly.”
I’d heard, over the years, that Civil War relics had been found on Folly Beach. Uniform buttons, belt buckles, knives, cooking utensils, and cannonballs were the items I’d heard most often mentioned. If that was what the Fitzsimmons were looking for, I couldn’t see how they could benefit financially to where they wouldn’t have to worry about money.
Charles must’ve had similar thoughts. “Laurie, what kind of buried treasure were you looking for?” His face broke into one of his loveable smiles that made it difficult to be mad at him regardless how personal the question. “Is there a pot of gold out there I don’t know about?”
She dropped her fork on the plate. “No, of course not. It was… nothing. Gail, I think I need to get home. This has been a draining morning.”
Gail looked at Laurie’s plate. “You sure you don’t want to finish eating?”
Dean said, “Gail, didn’t you hear her. She’s ready to go.”
Charles said not to worry about the check, he’d get it. Laurie stood before Gail could give her more grief about finishing lunch, or moving back to Florida, or whatever else she wanted to gripe about. Charles was quick to his feet. He gave Laurie a hug before the trio made their way to the exit.
Charles watched them go. “Wow. If those are best friends, I’d hate to hear Laurie’s enemies.”
I agreed, yet didn’t say anything. I was reeling from Charles’s offer to pick up the check.
Chapter Sixteen
William Hansel and Theo entered the restaurant while we were eating. They didn’t appear as bothered by the heat since they were on the patio. Charles and I finished. He paid, then suggested we visit William and Theo.
As we approached their table, William looked up from his fish sandwich and smiled. “I see where you gentlemen were engaged in social intercourse with the widow and her acquaintances from Florida.”
Uninvited, Charles pulled up a chair. “If that means we were talking with them, yep.”
The professor smiled, took a sip of iced tea, and Theo said, “William convinced me we were hungry after leaving the cemetery.”
I didn’t think it was necessary for him to explain why they were at a restaurant at lunch time.
I said, “William, I was pleased to see you at the funeral.”
He nodded. “As you know, I wasn’t familiar with the family, yet when Theo indicated an interest in attending I felt compelled to accompany him. I postulated that attendance would be minimal, so I didn’t want Mrs. Fitzsimmons to feel that no one was saddened over her spouse’s passing.”
Theo nodded. “I’m glad he did. I didn’t want to go by myself. As cruel it is to say, I didn’t want to invite Sal. I was afraid he’d see those gathered as an audience and start cracking jokes.”
Charles said, “Wise.”
Selene brought fresh glasses of water to Charles and me then told us to wave if we needed anything.
William took another bite then said, “Chris, I’ve been thinking about what you said about buried treasure being on Folly. I did some research in the college library, found several references to buried artifacts in proximity to our location. In addition to the gold from the Civil War I told you about, I found information on historic occurrences a hundred years prior to the Civil War.”
“Rumors about pirate ships you mentioned?”
“Precisely.”
Charles leaned closer to William. “What’d you learn?”
William glanced at the ceiling, like he was recalling something from the far reaches of his memory. “According to two sources, pirates frequented the waters off Folly in addition to other barrier islands. They hid their vessels in and around the isolated islands and pounced upon unsuspecting supply ships sailing to coastal locations.” He stopped and took another bite.
Charles, who doesn’t take kindly to interruptions in something he wants to hear, said, “What happened?”
I said, “Charles, let the man eat.”
William smiled. “Are you familiar with an English gentleman named Edward Teach?”
I shook my head.
Charles said, “Who’s he?”
“Perhaps y
ou are familiar with his more common moniker, Blackbeard.”
Theo raised his hand. William pointed at him.
Theo said, “One of the most famous pirates to sail the ocean blue. He had a house on Folly.”
“Correct.”
Charles, who didn’t want to be left out, added, “I knew that. A hurricane blew his house away.”
You know my opinion of history, so I remained silent.
“Mr. Teach, Blackbeard, is the subject of numerous myths, rumors, perhaps an occasional fact. What does appear to be substantiated is that in his day he had one of the mightiest ships ever to sail. He used it to his full advantage. His ship carried more than forty cannons, making it more formidable than any other he encountered.”
William paused and glanced around the patio before continuing. “Blackbeard was also three hundred years ahead of those who make a living in our media-saturated, image-obsessed world by aiding politicians or successful businesspersons with how they are perceived by the public. Before going in battle, the famous pirate would garb himself in black, affix pistols to his torso, then at that point don a large, black captain’s hat.”
“Scary,” said Charles.
William looked at him with a gaze I suspected he used on students who had the audacity to interrupt the professor’s lecture. “There’s more, Charles.”
Charles waved his palm in William’s face as an apology.
“One reference book said he would put slow-burning fuses in his greasy black hair and beard then ignite them. The fuses sputtered giving off smoke, which gave Blackbeard the appearance of the devil rising from the depths of hell. When opposing ship captains saw the spectacle, gentlemen, they surrendered without firing a shot.”
Charles switched from saying scary to uttering, “Cool.”
William ignored him. “One of Mr. Teach’s travelling companions for a time was Stede Bonnet, another famous pirate.”
Charles said, “Hanged at the Battery in Charleston.”
“How do you know that?” I asked.
Charles smiled. “Historic marker at the Battery. It says Stede, and twenty-nine of his crew, were hanged in seventeen something. Sorry, don’t remember the year. Another pirate dude and nineteen members of his crew were also hanged there. Their bodies were thrown in the nearby marsh that was eventually filled in. That area now houses some of the mansions in the Battery.”
“1718,” William added, showing his penchant for accuracy.
Enough of the history lesson about what happened in Charleston. I wanted to get back to Folly and buried treasure. “William, did any of the references specifically say Blackbeard, or other pirates, buried their bounty on Folly?”
“Mind you, I didn’t spend a great deal of time in the library. I found no documented references to pirates burying or hiding their ill-gained treasures on our island.”
Charles said, “That doesn’t mean they didn’t.”
“Of course not,” William said. “I did find references to handed-down stories about buried treasures, but none of them mentioned Folly, or Coffin Island, as it was then called.”
Charles rubbed his chin. “So Laurie and her late husband were on a quest with nothing to indicate it would pay off?”
“I can’t speak to their intentions,” William said. “There were no documented instances that I could find. I did discover one interesting tidbit, albeit not footnoted with credible citations. You see, I’m constantly reminding my students that if they are going to reference something in their papers, they must cite the source. That’s so future—”
Charles interrupted, “The tidbit, William?”
“Yes, of course. There were stories that one large cache of gold and silver was buried along the North or South Carolina coast. The interesting part of the stories was that instant death would come to anyone who sought the cache.”
Charles said, “A curse?”
“That was the inference. I do not believe in curses. Research shows there is always a rational explanation when some event is attributed to the amorphous concept of a curse.”
Charles said, “So you’re saying that there’s no research that proves that curses are real. And by curses, you mean those things that can’t be proven because, well, because they’re curses?”
William chuckled. “Charles, that’s why I teach travel and tourism. Mysticism, mythology, and theology are outside my area of expertise.”
“So, the curse could be real?” Charles said.
At times such as this, it was difficult to tell if Charles was serious, obstinate, or trying to provoke a reaction.
Before William answered, Theo leaned forward, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and said, “I bet Anthony Fitzsimmons believes in curses.”
I didn’t know whether to laugh or agree. Instead of either, I stated the obvious, “We’ll never know.”
Chapter Seventeen
Theo hadn’t mentioned his daughter-in-law while at the Crab Shack, so I was curious if he’d asked her to stay at his house. I conceded that after knowing Charles for nearly a decade, I was becoming more like him. I rationalized that it wasn’t a bad thing, although it had gotten me in trouble more than once. With that said, I didn’t see any harm in calling Theo.
Sal answered so I asked if Theo was home.
“Hey, Chris, if Theo tells you that I kicked him in the butt, it’s true.”
I was used to my friends’ penchant for answering the phone in, shall I say, a nonconventional manner. Sal’s response was a new one.
“Why?”
“I didn’t mean to, Theo turned around.” Sal broke into laughter.
I wanted to ask if he’d started a dial-a-joke business but was afraid it’d encourage him. I repeated, “Is he there?”
Instead of answering, I heard rustling in the background, before Theo said, “Hang on while I move to the kitchen.”
The sound of Sal’s laughter lessened.
Theo said, “Sorry about that. I’m making progress, breaking my brother of his exasperating habit of seeing every person as a victim of his humor. He’d never admit it, although it’s clear to me that he uses humor, what he thinks as humor, as a shield against others seeing his insecurities.”
“Good luck.”
“I’ll need it. The good thing around the house is that I can turn off my hearing aids. Oh, well, he’s my brother, I love him.” He paused, before saying, “I don’t suppose you called to hear a joke, or me gripe about Sal.”
“True. I was wondering if you talked to Grace.”
“Last night. I told her there was plenty of room, that she was welcome to move in until she got on her feet.” Theo sighed. “She thanked me then turned me down.”
“Why?”
“She repeated what she’d told us at the hotel about coming to South Carolina to be near Teddy’s dad so we could see each other. She said she didn’t come to be a burden on anyone. I told her she wouldn’t be a burden, that there was plenty of room, that she wouldn’t be in the way. Know what she told me?”
“What?”
“She said she drove by the house yesterday, saw how big it was. I asked why she didn’t stop. She said she didn’t see a car in the drive, so figured I wasn’t here. She said the real reason was to get a layout of the island to see a good place to set up her food truck.”
“Is she still living in the truck?”
“Yes.”
“What’re you going to do?”
“What can I do? She made it clear she didn’t want to stay here. She was polite, didn’t sound angry, yet was clear about her intentions.”
“Did she find somewhere she could set up?”
“She didn’t say.”
“Think she knows what she needs to do to operate a food truck on Folly? I assume there’re health department permits, inspections, specific local regulations about opening a business. When I opened my gallery I had my friend, Sean Aker, help me through the bureaucratic maze.”
“Chris, I have no idea. She had the truck in Cali
fornia, so I assume she knows the hoops to jump through. She seems self-sufficient so I’m sure she’ll be able to take care of it. I plan to call in a couple of days to see what she’s learned. I’ll offer help, financial or otherwise, if she needs a lawyer to get her business set up. If she does, I’ll recommend Sean.”
I wished him luck a second time.
He thanked me, then added, “I was thinking after lunch about what you told us Laurie and her husband said about finding treasure. It had me confused.”
“Why?”
“If Anthony thought there was even a ghost of a chance, pun intended, in finding something of value, he must’ve known more than vague rumors about treasure being buried, or relics from the Civil War.”
Theo had an excellent point. Laurie sounded confident they were going to discover something countless people had failed to find since the Civil War ended more than a century and a half ago. Laurie and Anthony were new to the area, so they hadn’t been here long enough to explore each nook and cranny. So, what did they know? How did they learn it? Even more important, if it existed, where was the treasure? I told Theo I agreed and asked if he had any idea how they might’ve known.
“No. What I can tell you is Sal would have a joke about it.”
No doubt, I thought.
I moved to the chair in the living room and reflected on the day that began with a funeral, continued with an awkward, tense lunch with Laurie, Dean, Gail, and Charles, then ended with a sophomoric joke and Theo making a generous offer to Grace only to have it rejected.
I was starting to drift to sleep in the chair when Charles called.
“Guess where we’re going tomorrow morning?”
I didn’t have the energy to ask how I could possibly know. “Where?”
“Laurie’s house.”
If I wasn’t fully awake when he started the conversation, I was now. “Why?”
“She called and invited us to coffee.”
“Us?”
“Not exactly.”
“What exactly?”
“Something like, ‘Charles, could you stop by the house in the morning around nine?’ ”