by Otto Schafer
“Garrett? Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
A soft knock came at the door.
“Yes?” Mr. B said.
Lenny popped his head in. “Sir, sorry to interrupt, but there is a lady here inquiring about the cost of classes.”
“Alright. Thank you, Lenny. Tell her I will be right with her. Excuse me, Garrett, I will be right back.”
“Yes, sir.”
Mr. B left the office, closing the door behind him. This was the first time Garrett had ever been alone in his instructor’s office. As he sat, he replayed the conversation in his mind. It seemed strange for Mr. B to tell them separately. But even stranger was that the testing was to be a closed event. This meant no one, not even his parents, would be allowed to watch. In the past, his mom had always watched his tests, along with anyone else he wanted to invite. Heck, students of the academy were usually required to watch. Why was this test closed? He resolved to ask Mr. B when he returned – there must be a good reason.
Garrett looked around the office as he waited. Among the many items on the office walls were photos of both Lenny and Garrett receiving their black belts and, hanging directly behind his desk, a certificate awarded to Grand Master Brockridge for his ninth-degree black belt. An ornate wooden box sitting on Mr. B’s desk caught his attention. It was open but with the hinged side facing him, and he was unable to see inside. The box was not large – about the size of a cigar box. Garrett wondered what his master would keep in a box like that. Surely, he doesn’t smoke cigars.
It felt like several minutes had passed since Mr. B closed the door. He listened for any sound indicating his teacher might be approaching, but heard nothing. Sliding forward to the front of his chair, he reached over to the wooden box carefully, turning it ever so slightly to allow him to peer inside. Much to Garrett’s relief, there were no cigars in the box, only a few pieces of jewelry and a watch.
This must be where Mr. B kept items he did not wear while training, which made perfect sense. He felt a pang of guilt wash over him. He had no business going through Mr. B’s stuff. What am I doing? He started to push the box back into place, but something caught his eye.
Coiled among the items lay a plain silver necklace threaded through an unassuming silver ring. Something was etched on the inside of the ring. Garrett squinted, trying to figure out what it was, but he couldn’t tell – words maybe. Glancing back at the door, then back to the box, he reached in and rolled the ring over. In the center of the ring was a symbol he did not recognize with the letter G in the middle. Another symbol was etched on the inside of the ring. It looked like it might be the sun, except that the rays emerged only from the bottom half of the circle. He heard a voice from beyond the office door. Shit. He glanced quickly at the silver band and was only able to make out one word, but it made his heart quicken as he whispered it aloud. “Keeper.”
The knob rattled and turned.
Garrett let go of the ring and thrust himself back into the chair. The door opened and Mr. B stepped through, followed closely by Lenny. “Alright, I will see you boys Wednesday after school – come prepared, come focused. I wish you good luck.”
Oh no! Garrett screamed inside as he stared at the box. It was cocked slightly sideways from where it had been. His heart hammering in his throat, panic took him and he stood abruptly, wanting nothing more than to get out of the small office. He stumbled as he stepped away from the desk, light-headed from standing so suddenly.
“Are you alright, Garrett?” Mr. B asked in surprise, as he reached out to steady him.
“Yes, my… leg just… fell asleep,” Garrett said, shuffling around the imposing man.
A moment later, the boys were walking home.
“Can you believe it, Garrett? Second-degree black belt!”
“Yeah, it’s awesome,” Garrett said in a monotone.
“What’s wrong with you? Aren’t you excited?”
They stopped to wait on a car passing by before crossing the street. “Lenny, can I ask you something?”
Lenny looked over his shoulder. “I know what you want to ask.”
“You do?” Garrett said in surprise.
“You want to ask about chores. About the training and rules, right? Well, listen, I don’t know much more than I already said.”
That was definitely something Garrett wanted to talk about, but it wasn’t what he was going to ask. “Okay, Lenny, since you bring it up, yeah, I want to know whatever you can tell me.”
“Well, like I said, it all started when I was adopted. My adoptive parents started making me study, sometimes late into the night. The material had nothing to do with what was being taught in school.”
“What do you study?”
“All kinds of stuff. Astronomy, history, a lot of extra studying on topography and mapping, navigation by stars – oh, and the currencies and languages of other countries too. As time went on, they added hands-on survival training and primitive survival training, like how to build shelters, trap food, make a fire from two sticks. When we started the taekwondo, they added weapons training. They make me spend hours a week practicing with the bo staff.”
“You never wondered why?”
Lenny looked at him like he was an idiot. “Of course I wondered why. I asked once or twice. The first time they said, ‘This is Petersburg, and in Petersburg we train, we prepare. We never, ever talk about it – not to anyone.’ I pressed and asked why, what is the purpose.”
“What did they say?”
“I was told I would need these skills when things went bad and never to ask again. They said if I so much as questioned the rules, let alone broke them, I would be sent back to foster care. I knew they meant it too. God, it was plain in their eyes they meant it.”
Garrett only nodded in answer as they continued to walk.
“Look, I like it here, Garrett. I like you and my family. Sure, the secret chores and rules suck, and I don’t understand them any better than you do. Hell, sometimes the people here suck, too, but despite all that I wouldn’t trade it. It’s hard to explain, but I feel like I am supposed to be here.” He looked back over his shoulder again. “Honestly, I am nervous as hell even talking about this.”
Garrett sighed, having hoped for more. “Okay, Lenny. Hey, you remember you said you had an uncle or something that was a Freemason?”
“Yeah.”
“You said you have seen his ring. What did it look like?”
“Umm, well, it had like a square and a compass kind of laid over each other with a letter in the middle. It was a C I think, or wait, maybe it was a G. I can’t remember for sure, but I know it had a letter on it too.”
Garrett felt his stomach twist into a tight knot.
22
You Must Search, Doctor
Present day
Oak Island, Nova Scotia
After breakfast, Paul lowered himself, Breanne, Edward, and their father into the pit. Jerry was up top working with the items from the chest and acting as their point of safety via the two-way radio. Charles prepared himself to rappel down the forty-yard slope for a second day in a row. But Paul stopped him, cleverly persuading him to ride down on the skid by telling him someone had to keep the tripod lighting and other supplies secure. Her father said he would do it, but only for the good of the equipment.
Once inside, Breanne went to work setting up the tripods. Soon the cavern, along with the Templar Knight, was showered in artificial light, giving the whole place an ominous glow. Ominous or not, the additional lighting allowed for a more thorough search.
Although the cavern wasn’t large – around 150 feet long and at least 50 feet wide – the uneven walls, jagged outcroppings of rocks, and stalagmite columns slowed the search. In addition, there was the issue of the mucky floor and areas of standing water, some of them almost knee-deep, which required extra caution to avoid stepping into a submerged hole in the floor. Edward and Paul used long poles to feel their way tediously, back and forth, across the
deeper areas. When they would strike something with the pole, they would investigate and rule out any possible hidden artifacts. Their father also had them flag every rock, even the submerged ones, in order to create a layout of all the rock locations. He would later analyze the layout to ensure he was not missing any hidden messages.
In the meantime, Charles decided he and Breanne would focus their efforts on the Templar Knight. “Bre, what is he looking at?” her father asked, following the gaze of the eyeless knight.
“It seems like he’s looking down at the floor to me.”
“You know, between the muck and the water, I don’t think yesterday’s search of the cavern was as detailed as I thought. Let’s shovel out the area in front of the altar and see what he’s looking at,” Charles said, clapping his hands.
Breanne nodded and they went to work.
Twenty minutes later, they had cleared a six-foot-square area right down to the bedrock floor. But they found nothing obvious. Her father rinsed away any remaining dirt and, using a stiff-bristled brush, brushed the whole area and found nothing: no clues, no seams, no symbol – nothing.
Breanne studied the Templar, then the ground. “Well, it is possible his head has changed position over time, Dad. Maybe he was looking further out. I doubt his head could have lifted, but it could have sagged lower, right?”
“Huh, you’re absolutely right. Very good. We are going to have to clear the entire distance between us and the wall to be sure we don’t miss anything.”
“Great, so I’m glad I made that point. Now my reward is digging out another twenty-five or thirty square feet,” she said, smiling.
“I believe you wanted to be down here with Daddy, right? You could have been sitting topside with the warm sun on your face and a breeze in your hair, but, oh no, you wanted to be down here – in the mud.” He handed her a shovel with an ornery grin.
Breanne rolled her eyes dramatically as she stomped a foot down on the shovel.
Shortly after they went back to work digging, her brothers finished with their detailed search of the cavern and joined in to help.
“Well?” her father asked. “Anything?”
“Nothing,” Edward said. “Nothing in the nooks, nothing in the crannies, nothing in the water.”
They continued clearing the muddy area for the next two hours, reaching the far wall but finding no new clues.
Ready to throw in the towel, their father mumbled something under his breath, turned, and idly splashed the remaining water from the pitcher he had been using to clear the muck off the floor. The channel the team had dug between the altar and the wall was now several inches deep, reaching down to the stone floor. This newly created channel was now steadily pooling with water.
“Guys, it’s no use. We need to start planning the removal of the knight. Maybe that will give me time to think of something we missed,” Charles said, fatigue and frustration beginning to show.
“What about the tunnel?” Breanne said suddenly, new excitement in her voice.
“What do you mean?” her father asked.
“Well, we assume the tunnel leads back to the swamp, but what if there is another cavern, or a passage leading to another chamber somewhere between here and the swamp?” As the thought developed, excitement began to build. “Yes, we have to clear the tunnel in the other direction to know for sure – we could have missed something huge!”
“Maybe,” her father said, rubbing his chin in thought.
Her brothers rolled their eyes at each other, obviously not in favor of clearing more of the heavy stones from the tunnel.
While his three kids stood staring at him, waiting for their fates to be decided, Charles stared past them, back towards the altar, lost in thought. Breanne knew the look: he was pondering her suggestion. But then she noticed his gaze found focus and he stared in puzzlement. “Do you see that?” he said.
They all craned their heads to try to see what he was seeing.
“See what, Pops?” Edward asked, looking at the knight atop the altar.
“Look down!”
They all looked down, then at each other, then at their father, and then back at each other. No one was seeing whatever it was he was seeing.
“That’s it, dear God above. Of course!”
Breanne raised an eyebrow. “What’s it, Dad?”
“Ha! You all really don’t see it!” he shouted with a laugh.
They tried again to follow his gaze, staring under the knight, then at the altar itself, then back to their father.
“Look at the floor, dammit!” he said, pointing at the base of the altar.
Breanne was the first to see it, and her eyes blossomed in understanding. “Bubbles!” she said excitedly.
At the base of the altar, water had pooled in the newly created channel, and it was now bubbling ever so slightly.
“That’s right, baby girl! Air from underneath must be exiting, which can only mean water must be draining through!”
Paul looked dubious. “Maybe there is a low spot or washout underneath?”
Dr. Moore began hastily clearing all the muck from around the altar. “No, I don’t think so. I assumed this altar had been chiseled from a natural stalagmite, but that would mean it was part of the floor. However, bubbles can’t be here if this is one piece of stalagmite developed over time. I think this structure was placed here! I think this altar is hiding something underneath and I just bet, if we remove all the muck and water from this entire cavern, we could find the spot they cut and moved this giant stone from.”
“How would they have moved it? It has to weigh tons!” Breanne said.
“Well, there were at least one hundred seventy-eight people here to move it,” Edward said.
“One hundred seventy-nine, if you count this guy,” replied Paul, hooking his thumb back towards the Templar Knight.
“Pops, you’re not going to make us clear all this water and sludge from this entire place to find out if your theory’s right, are you?” Edward asked, already dreading the daunting task.
Paul smiled at his father. “We don’t need to do that to find out if he’s right,” he said, turning to his brother. “We just need to move this big rock.”
“Exactly,” Charles said.
Goose bumps blossomed on Breanne’s arms as the back of her hair sprang up. “Hey, Dad? Do you remember what Jerry’s creepy boss said?”
The three men looked at her.
“You must search, doctor… until you have left nothing unexplored and—”
“No stone unturned,” her father interrupted quietly.
They stared at the giant stone for several seconds.
“Come on, guys… I’m sure it was just a coincidence,” Paul said in a voice that implied otherwise. “What we need to do now is move this rock.”
“And just how in the hell are we going to do that when there’s only four of us? Actually, only about three and a half.” Edward looked at Breanne, who promptly punched him in the arm.
Paul walked around the stone, held his thumb out sideways, closed one eye, and gauged the slope of the tunnel off in the distance. “I have a plan.”
“Right, I think I already know where you’re going with this – the winch?” his father asked.
“No, I don’t think so. Even if we all push and use the winch, I don’t think it’ll give us the power we need to pull it. I’d be concerned the cable would snap or the rigging in the tunnel would fail. Any of those scenarios play out and someone could end up hurt,” Paul said, still studying the stone and the archway leading out to the ramp.
Edward walked around the giant stone and stopped next to his brother. “This stone has to weigh several tons – several times more than the treasure chest weighed, even with Pops sitting on it.”
The comment elicited a glare from his father. “Watch it, boy!” he said, wagging his finger up and down in Edward’s direction.
“So what are you thinking, little bro?” Edward asked.
“Well, guys,
we just so happen to have a big-ass crane, with giant cables.”
“The crane is at the top of the pit, Paul. I don’t see how that can help,” Dr. Moore said.
“Right, we need to get to work. We have to build better rigging in the tunnel, and I need to add a rig to that doorway.” Paul pointed to the archway entrance to the room. “I think I can anchor a pulley into the bedrock easy enough.”
“This sounds sketchy,” his father said.
“Well, I can’t promise this will work, but as far as safety goes, I’m not worried. My biggest fear is damaging the wood tunnel, causing a cave-in. But we don’t need to be down here when we pull the stone with the crane. You guys can go up and I can make the final connection, then evacuate to the pit. If the tunnel caves in, no one gets trapped down here.”
Breanne and Charles walked around the stone and stood in a small huddle with Paul and Edward. Everyone stared at their father as he pondered his son’s plan. He removed his fedora, ran his hand through his hair, then placed it back atop his head. “Well, I don’t like it. You still have to be in the pit. Is there another way we can move this?”
“Well, I could drill some holes in it, set explosives, and try a controlled blast. There is more risk in this chamber caving in, though, and if that happens, I don’t know that we could ever get back here,” Paul said.
“No explosives,” he said, waving off the suggestion immediately. Then with the deep-chested chuckle Breanne had come to love, he turned to his sons. “You military guys and your damn explosives. What’s with you boys wanting to blow shit up all the time?”
“Just giving you the options as I see ’em, Pops.” Paul turned to Edward, adding, “Besides, blowing shit up is what we do.”
“Hooyah!” Edward said, fist-bumping his brother.
“Alright, let’s get started on this rigging of yours,” Charles said, exhaling a long, wary sigh, as if he had just been told he would have to walk ten miles back to the car after a long day’s work. “Nothing comes easy on this goddamn island,” he muttered.