She ran to Minda, laughing at the sight of her friend and the goat. “I’ve missed you, Minda!” Pointing to the goat, she asked, “Who does that belong to?”
“You!” Minda smiled as she handed the rope to her friend.
Maria whooped for joy. “For me? Tell me all about how this might be.”
After tying the end of the goat’s rope around a leg of the bench by the house, Maria grabbed Minda in a friendly embrace.
They entered the simple but tidy house. Minda saw that things were in the right places, a spinning wheel by the hearth and a loom next to Maria’s bed. “I am proud of you, my child,” she said.
Maria reached for two mugs of ale. “Sit down, sit down.”
She pulled an empty barrel close to the table where Minda sat on the lone chair. They satisfied themselves with what little food Maria had, shared recent news and then talked of the coming growing season.
Maria showed Minda the flax and other important seeds gifted from Abigail. When planted, they would provide summer crops for next winter’s food.
Minda also had gifts for Maria. She emptied her bag of herbs and medicines onto the table and presented them to Maria. At the bottom of her bag Minda felt Maria’s letter. Handing it to Maria she spoke, “Forgive me. I have forgotten a most important item that Matthew gave me for you. He said that a stranger had delivered this to the tavern and Mr. Smith then passed it on to him, hoping you would receive it.”
The young girl took the letter in her hands and touched the bumpy wax that sealed it closed. The heavy parchment had been folded twice, making a square. Who would be sending her this and why? She broke the seal and opened it to reveal its message:
My Beloved Maria,
I pray this letter finds you well and not of a sad heart. It has been too long that we have been apart. I dream of you at night and thoughts of you remain with me when I wake. Alas, the treasure that I sought was gone upon our arrival. But soon good fortune came upon me and we now sail with a fleet of ships that transport goods. Hold fast to a faith that I will return to you as soon as I am able.
Keep watch for me…Sam
***
Maria held Sam’s letter in her hands. She reread its words over and over until Minda finally asked, “Maria, is there bad news?”
“No. No. It’s from Sam.”
43
Present Day – July 21
CAPE COD
THE SPACIOUS PARKING LOT OF THE LOCAL COFFEE SHOP was filled with cars. It serviced eight different stores, and at 10 am, everything bustled with activity. A celebratory coffee and donut would suffice to honor the coming of our new little one. Paul parked the car in the back row.
He hesitated before getting out. “Look at those two guys over there by the black truck. Isn’t one of them Neil Hallett?”
I squinted through the windshield. “Yeah, that’s him.”
Paul took his sunglasses off. “See the guy to his right? He’s the weird man who came into the gallery the other day but spent most of his time looking around outside.”
“Oh yeah, I remember him. What’s he doing with Hallett?”
“Do you mind if we sit here for a minute? I want to see what they’re going to do.”
“No I don’t mind, but we’ve got to get home soon and open up the gallery.”
Paul leaned over the steering wheel to get a better view. “They’re shaking hands. Now the weird guy is getting into the same car that was in our parking lot.”
“Maybe I’ll give Salinger a call and see if we should be worried about this Hallett guy,” I said. I buckled my seat-belt. “We’d better get home.”
Paul looked over to me. “Sorry honey, no donut today. We’ll celebrate tomorrow.” He glanced back to the two men. “I’m concerned about those guys.”
I agreed. “They look a little sketchy, but I’m sure there’s nothing to get upset about. It could be just a coincidence.”
That afternoon I made a call to Louis Sallinger. His voicemail picked up. I recorded, “Hello, Mr. Sallinger, this is Nancy Caldwell from Brewster. I was wondering if you could give me a call concerning Neil Hallett? Thank you.”
***
Sallinger always screened his calls. As he sat at his desk listening to Nancy’s message he grumbled under his breath. “What the hell did that jerk do now?”
***
Around 4 pm, the phone rang. I picked it up in the bedroom, hoping it was Salinger. “Hello, The Caldwell Gallery.”
“I’m calling from the Whydah Museum in Provincetown. I was wondering if I could speak to someone about the discovery that was found in your backyard.”
I sat down, taken off guard with the question. “Oh...that…would be me. Yes, we did find some things in our backyard.”
“Well, I’m glad I have the right place. Would it be okay if I stopped by to see what you found?”
“I guess so. We’re open in the gallery every day from 11 – 5 pm. We’re always here as our house is attached to the business.”
“Fine, I hope to see you soon. Goodbye.”
I ran to get the kitchen phone to see who was on the Caller ID. The screen said the last call was ‘unavailable’. That’s odd, I thought, and went to find Paul.
He was framing his new watercolor. I loved it. The painting captured the shadow of the sun on the roof of the old cottage, just the way I remembered it when we’d walked around Rock Harbor a few weeks earlier. It was stunning. “Honey, it’s beautiful.”
“Thank you.” He stood back to admire it also.
“Oh, I’ve got something to tell you. We just had a phone call, supposedly from the Whydah Museum, in Provincetown. Some guy wants to come and look at what we found. ” I glanced outside to see Brian getting dropped off by a co-worker. “The Caller ID said the number was unavailable. I assume it was someone from the Museum.”
“They could have been on their cell,” Paul suggested.
“I guess so.”
“Not to worry. I’m always at home with you.”
“I know. Oh, and by the way, the new painting is absolutely gorgeous.”
***
After dinner, with the kids in bed, Paul and I sat at the kitchen table treating ourselves to ice cream. “Do you think that our lives will ever be calm?” I asked.
“You were the one who wanted adventure.” Paul laughed as he ate a spoonful of creamy vanilla bean.
“Yeah, and you came right along for the ride, didn’t you?”
I finished up my bowl of chocolate and grabbed the plastic baggy that held the old vellum pieces. I pointed to the old script. “You know, these letters have got to stand for Maria Hallett and Sam Bellamy. And the 1715 date could easily tie in with the Doane people who owned this property.”
Paul scraped his bowl. “The cellar had to be connected to another house on our land. Maria could have traveled here from Eastham for any number of reasons. I guess we’ll never know.”
I stroked the brittle vellum. “Bottom line…I think we have a real connection to an old Cape Cod legend here.”
***
Paul got a phone call the next morning requesting his attendance at an exhibit in Boston. He’d leave tomorrow but only be gone for a few days.
“I’m sorry, honey. I hadn’t planned on going, but they said it would be good for sales if the artist were present. It’s very casual; I could take the kids with me. I bet Casey would take care of Molly and Brian could help me load and unload the paintings. What do you think?”
“Sure. I’ll be fine. If I need something, Jim will be home at night and in the morning. And I shouldn’t need the car for those few days.”
“Okay, check your groceries and I’ll start packing. If you need anything, we’ll go to the store this afternoon.” Paul went upstairs to pack and to tell Molly, Casey and Brian, who were still sleeping, about their upcoming trip.
***
As they all prepared to head out, I stood in the driveway and watched the kids fill the van with their backpacks and snacks. I fe
lt apprehensive about Paul leaving me alone, but I tried to act confident in front of everyone. I knew it was important for Paul to sell as many paintings as he could. Our budget was tight and we were going to have to really save for the winter. I’d be fine, I assured myself, wrapping my arms around my waist. Of course, with the new baby coming, and our insurance coverage still uncertain, this only added to my tension. In fact, we were both turning into two very uptight people.
“I love you,” I called out as I waved goodbye to my family. I watched the car as it drove away until I couldn’t see it anymore. It was too early to open the gallery, so I went into the house to start the laundry.
44
April 26, 1717
EASTHAM – CAPE COD
MARIA SURVIVED ANOTHER WINTER with Sam’s words etched in her heart. She sat in the dimly lit room by her spinning wheel, her eyes closed, not wanting to see her meager belongings scattered around the dismal McKeon house. They were a painful reminder of the deep sadness that consumed her life. With her hands resting in her lap, she slowly breathed in and out.
When she grew tired of sitting, Maria stood to look out the window at the distant evening sky. The last light of day was fading into churning storm clouds. She sighed. Another April had come, but not without a great number of nor’easters that had already wreaked havoc upon the sandy spit of Cape Cod. As the rain began to fall, she could feel the dampness already creeping through her young bones.
It had been a year since Minda had delivered Sam’s letter, which Maria kept safe in her keepsake box, now worn smooth from so many readings. She cherished his words as she continued her quest of waiting for him. She knew she had nothing else to hope for and lived for this simple promise from a man who said he loved her. It was a promise that she clung to as she fulfilled her nightly vigil of watching for his ship. The arrival of dusk each night hid Maria from the probing eyes of her neighbors as she walked the bluffs in search of Sam.
Tonight was turning cold and menacing; the approaching storm made her wish in a fleeting moment that she had never met Sam. Accepting her fate, she gathered a shawl around her head and shoulders and fastened it with a large knot, then reached for a piece of old canvas hanging on a hook. She flung the door open and threw the canvas high in the air over her head; her strong arms like two wooden masts on a tall ship held up her canvas sail.
Maria flew down the path and up the bluffs. The rain blew so hard it blinded her view. As she approached the top of the bluff, her eyes glimpsed something in the churning water. She wiped the seawater’s spray from her face, trying to make sense of the object in the sea. The frothing water tossed it back and forth, slowly breaking it apart. She questioned her own eyes before she realized it was a ship.
Her heart pounded as she ran down the side of the bluff. She stumbled onto the beach, where her feet sank into thick wet sand. Struggling to keep her balance, she shielded her eyes from the rain by keeping her head down under the canvas. The swirling sand stung and bit at her cheeks, but she pushed herself toward the shoreline, straining to see the ship in the water.
A gust of wind knocked her over. Maria fell onto a small mound with a dull thump. Her canvas sail was ripped from her grasp. As her fingers moved across the bumpy wet lump, she felt a cold, fishlike object. She screamed and withdrew her hand, pushed herself up and away, too fearful to look down.
The force of the storm raged around her. The dark of the night overwhelmed her senses with fears of the unknown. She held her hands to either side of her face to scan the beach and saw more dark clumps scattered across the sand.
***
Three men huddled against a sandy cliff and watched the lone figure stagger across the storm tossed beach among the bodies of their fellow shipmates.
“Damn those mooncussers. Can they not leave the dead in peace?” hissed the dark skinned man.
“Quiet,” their captain cautioned them.
***
Maria turned away from the shadowy beach and searched again the inky water for the ship. Like an apparition it came into view–it was keeled over to one side. Within seconds the waves had flipped it over; then another crash of the surf tossed it upright again. Maria tried to decipher the letters across the bow of the mangled vessel. She thought she saw, Whyd...then remembered what Minda had told her, “There are rumors in town about your Sam. They say he is a pirate who stole the ship Whydah.”
Her heart swelled in a moment of hope that this could be Sam’s ship but instantly fell to despair when she looked at the dark shapes on the beach. Oh God! Where is he?? Is it possible...? Could he be dead?
As one monstrous wave crested, it sucked the ship sideways, then rolled it over so its bottom became its top. Cannons from its hull crashed down through the deck and cracked the doomed vessel in half.
“SAM!” Maria screamed into the darkness. “SAM BELLAMY!” She cried above the wind but to no avail; the thundering surf and vicious storm screeched along the beach like a swarm of banshees destroying anything in their path.
Maria forced herself to touch the dark mound nearest to her feet. As she turned it over a lightening flash revealed the corpse of a wretched man, his eyes wide open, frozen in terror. She screamed, slapped her hand up to her mouth and thought she would vomit.
A sudden urgency overwhelmed her fear as she called on her courage to search the dark objects for her beloved Sam–if, God forbid, he was among them. The wind blew stronger, and the force of the rain against her face blinded her. Maria tried to wipe away the water from her eyes, but the darkness further hindered her vision. She needed a lantern. If Sam was here, she must find him.
After only a few steps Maria realized running in the wet sand was impossible. Her feet sank with each step, and her body swayed side to side, back and forth. She was forced to walk with slow, careful steps through the heavy sand. Her mind raced with thoughts of Sam as she climbed back up over the bluff and ran down the path to her house.
***
Through shivering teeth one of the men said, “We must follow her to shelter.”
“Agreed. Let’s go.” Their captain stood and led his men, keeping a safe distance behind Maria. The three men whispered ideas for their plan as they crept along the sandy path. They needed a wagon and a horse to retrieve whatever valuables had washed up onto the beach. They would raid the nearest houses until they found what they needed… and they’d use whatever means was necessary.
***
Breathless, Maria finally reached her door. Once inside, she grabbed the curved wire handle of the glass beacon that hung on a hook by the hearth. As she spun around to close the door to light the lantern in the dry house, she came face-to-face with three dark shapes in her doorway. In the faint glow from the hearth she saw three sets of eyes glaring back at her. Overwhelmed by the terrors of the stormy night, her eyes tricked her into thinking they were demons from the dead men on the beach. The lantern crashed to the floorboards as Maria collapsed and her head slammed against the stones in the hearth.
***
John Julian stepped over the girl’s body as Thomas Davis slammed the door shut against the storm.
Their captain pushed Julian away from Maria. “Let me see the woman.”
Sam Bellamy found himself looking at his beloved Maria. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. He knelt down by her side and held her hand.
The other two men watched their captain in silence; fully aware that he had found his love, the young girl he called Maria. They stood by the hearth and waited for their orders.
Sam finally turned to Davis. “Go to the house past the trees where we saw lights. John will stay with me.” He knew that John Julian, being an Indian, would have no chance of getting help as prejudice was still within many a man in New England. He placed his hands on Davis’s shoulders. “You are the only one who would be safe. Convince the people that you are not a pirate and in need of their help.”
“I’ll go,” he said.
“Thomas, if you have to, enti
ce them with the promise of a share of whatever we find on the beach.” Sam looked at John for agreement.
He nodded yes.
“Go now and be quick. I’ll tend to my Maria while you’re gone.” He moved towards Maria’s bed, where she still lay unconscious from her fall.
***
The Welshman, Thomas Davis, never imagined himself as a pirate. He originally signed as a carpenter on the ship ‘St. Michael’, sailing from Cork to Jamaica. Bellamy and his crew, upon capturing his ship, took Davis captive. Badly in need of a carpenter, they’d kept him against his will. Being a God-fearing man, Davis wanted nothing to do with pirating. While at sea he’d stayed quiet, done his work, and always looked for ways to gain his freedom, but that never came. During his captivity, Captain Sam Bellamy had been good to Davis. He’d respected the craftsmanship of the carpenter’s work and Davis had returned a mutual respect to him.
Tonight he had survived the shipwreck with minor injuries: cuts, bruises and a possible broken toe, which now made him limp. This was nothing compared to the fate of his fellow shipmates. He wondered if the Lord had a far greater purpose for him yet to come. Convincing himself to do his best to get help, he knew what he had to do. The soon-to-be-salvaged treasure was all he had now, even if it was stolen. After all, he deserved it, considering all that he’d endured.
***
When Maria woke, she found herself lying in her bed. Lifting her hand, she could feel her coverlet and a dry shift. As she lay still, she remembered there had been a storm. Her clothes had been soaked. She moved only her eyes, trying to catch glimpses of what and who surrounded her. She could see the fire in the hearth and her bare feet stuck out from under a blanket. Two men were sitting at her table.
45
The Old Cape House Page 20