‘Why?’ Petra asked. She’d been visiting with Mr Brown nearly every day for two weeks and each time she asked him the same question, hoping he’d shed more light on this friend of his but so far she’d not been successful.
‘The man who touched my stump told me to walk up and down the mountain every day and I would regain my strength.’
She leaned in. ‘Mr Brown,’ she had never called him grandfather and it seemed strange to start now, ‘Who was this man? You know him?’
He shook his head. ‘Like I told you and everybody else. He was a man from the past. He talk like he was from the past and he dressed like he was from the past. Like an old slave. He tell me: “Get on your feet and walk old man. ”’
Petra’s eyes widened. ‘He talked to you!’ This was new. Mr Brown had never said this before!
‘Yes,’ Mr Brown smiled. ‘He told me I was the gatekeeper. I don’t know what he mean by that. But he said I was chosen to be the gatekeeper. The guardian of the treasure.’ ‘Oh!’ Petra’s hand flew to her chest. ‘He said you are the guardian of the treasure?! Did you tell Mark?’
Mr Brown nodded. ‘I tell him. But he tell me there is no treasure up the mountain. The man tell me to walk up and down the mountain every day. I don’t know about no treasure. But I know I get stronger when I walk up and down the mountain.’
‘Oh, wow!’ Petra said. ‘So it might be true. The story of the treasure!’
Mark entered the room. ‘Petra, don’t get all excited. There is no treasure. He’s just repeating the same story’s been going around this island for hundreds of years. He might just be confusing his memories…’
‘Boy, I not confused!’ Mr Brown protested.
‘OK, Grandpa,’ Mark said respectfully. ‘I’m sorry.’ Mark dismissed Petra with his eyes. ‘Petra, you can go check your e-mail now if you want. I’m done with the computer.’
Petra went to the other room but she had no interest in e-mail. Mr Brown knew about the mythical treasure buried somewhere on the island! Maybe he could lead her to it. Maybe she could be the one to find it. Oh, what she would do with it. She could imagine herself surrounded by chests of rubies and diamonds. The TV cameras would be trained on her as she would present the treasure to the prime minister with one request: that the treasure be held in a specially built museum on the island, The Petra Brown Dubois Dominican Museum of History and Art. Yes, she could see it now. She had to find that treasure.
***
It was early afternoon and the blazing sun required twice the amount of energy for the simplest movement. ‘I’m so hungry,’ James complained.
‘I told you not to eat your sandwich on the bus.’ Jerome held his backpack close. If he knew James well, it was only a matter of time before James would beg him for the sandwich that he’d been disciplined enough to save.
‘Let’s go get something to eat in the village before we go look at that old burnt out house,’ Charlie ventured. James was reluctant but he agreed. It was better than having to fight his brother over a sandwich. And despite his eagerness he knew that the trees weren’t going anywhere. They walked slowly toward the centre of Wouge Place. ‘You think he still here?’ James asked.
‘Who? Mackey?’ Jerome hadn’t said the name all morning but he’d been looking over his shoulder. He could feel that Mackey was spying on them. Everywhere they went he seemed to turn up eventually.
‘I feel like someone’s following us,’ Jerome said and looked over his shoulder.
‘I know,’ Charlie said. ‘That’s why I told you let’s go into the town. Whoever it was followed us to Mr Hagar’s house. They’re either talking to him now or watching to see where we going.’
Jerome looked at Charlie, amazed. ‘How did you figure that out?’
‘Mackey’s got too much to lose here. Why not pay one of his men to follow us? He wants us to do all the hard work for him and he’ll get all the reward. He sees he was wrong about where the real Carib site was so he knows we probably know more than he does.’
‘We gotta find a way to stop him,’ Jerome said looking back.
‘Actually, he’s running out of time himself,’ Charlie said.
‘Who’s running out of time?’ Jerome asked.
‘Mackey. I did some research about the family online and there’s some pretty bad stuff going on back in Australia.’
The boys stopped walking. ‘Like what?’ Jerome asked.
‘Well, for one thing he’s basically bankrupt. He lost a lot of money in the stock market over the last few years. He owes millions of dollars to the Australian government in back taxes. His businesses are losing money and he’s had to fire thousands of his workers. The banks are about to take everything he owns.’
‘Oh!’ Jerome said in realisation. ‘He’s desperate now. That mean he will do anything to get his hands on the treasure.’
‘Exactly,’ Charlie said. ‘We really need to be careful with this guy. He’s trying to save his business.’
The boys pondered this for a minute. ‘But this is not his treasure. He don’t have no right to it.’ James said.
Charlie shrugged. ‘I thought it was kinda weird that the priest was so invested in all of this so I did a little more detective work about the Mackeys.’
Jerome’s eyes widened. Oh, what he’d do for a computer so he could have access to all the information that was out there in the world. ‘What did you find out?’
‘OK, there was a Jeremiah Mackey who owned the largest plantation on this island before slavery was abolished. But he’d let go a lot of his slaves before that. After he died his twin sons sold off much of his land here and in the rest of the Caribbean and they went back to the UK. Apparently, they were a bunch of losers because they wasted most of the money on gambling and get-rich-quick schemes. The youngest son, however, once the money was all gone left Britain and moved to Australia. There he started up his own merchant business. I think that was Julius and John Mackey’s great-grandfather.’
‘Wow. How did you find all that out?’ Jerome asked.
‘There was a long story written about Julius Mackey in the Financial Times about a year ago. It talked about how one family could gain so much and lose it all in such a short space of time. It’s actually a bit sad. Mackey once ruled a huge empire but he made some really bad decisions and they caught up with him.’
James shook his head. ‘Well, he’s not getting our treasure. He can go make some more business deals to save himself.’
Jerome rubbed his chin. ‘So if the slave owner was their ancestor then maybe the treasure is his.’
James shook his head. ‘No. Then why would Father Mackey tell us to go after it. If it belong to their family then Father Mackey would keep it for himself.’
Before Jerome could say anything else they heard a motor of a large vehicle, like a truck. ‘They’re out there,’ Jerome said. ‘His men are out there.’
James shrugged. ‘Let’s take them on a little walk.’
‘We could sic Eustace and the Machetes on him.’ Jerome said.
James snorted. ‘So now you and Eustace best friends?’
And so they walked. Darting into storefronts, pausing to look at the measly candy displays in darkened shops while disinterested shopkeepers glanced up from black and white televisions. An hour later the boys stood at the bus stop. They waited fifteen minutes, keeping an eye on their surroundings. James could see a dark-coloured Range Rover parked a few hundred yards down the main street. He nudged Jerome, who glanced in the vehicle’s direction. ‘The bus coming,’ he said. They waved, moving into the bus’s path. The bus stopped for ninety seconds and the driver turned his head as a Range Rover passed him slowly.
‘We changed our minds,’ Jerome said and stepped off the bus with James and Charlie close behind. ‘Quick! Let’s go to the old house.’
It took only a few minutes of James and Charlie sprinting and Jerome struggling to not lose his breath before they arrived at the ruins of the old house. They surveyed the area. It must have been a grand, old thing. The walls that remained reached high into the sky, almost as high as the gommier trees around it. The remains of a grand verandah stood shakily amid an overgrowth of wild bushes and flowers. The place was eerie. The boys stared at each other as they stood at the centre of the property. Were they standing where Mr Hagar’s mother played every day? Or was this where she died in the great fire?
‘Let’s get to work,’ Jerome said. ‘You take the trees over there; I’ll take the ones over here.’
Jerome put on his glasses and began scouring tree trunks and bark for markings. The first five trees yielded nothing except peeling bark and scaly trunks. But there were a lot of trees on the property, hundreds it seemed. They could be there all afternoon if they did not work quickly. He ran his hands and eyes along cedars, gommiers, and kolbas. But nothing.
‘James, you find anything?’
‘No. No markings on these trees.’
James stopped and took a look around the property. He sniffed the air; he could smell the fresh smell of tree sap. ‘Smell that, Charlie?’
‘Jerome, get over here!’
Jerome ran to where his brother was standing. They looked down – a large tree trunk covered much of the ground in front of them. Next to it was another carcass of a freshly cut tree.
‘Someone was here before us!’ Jerome exclaimed.
‘Mackey!’
‘But how?’
‘I don’t know. Let’s go back to Mr Hagar. He’ll know.’ They walked the short distance to Mr Hagar’s tiny house, disappointed and angry.
‘I think your old man just took us for a ride,’ Charlie said.
They could see Mr Hagar sitting on his porch and smoking a cigar. Where did he get a cigar? Jerome wondered.
Mr Hagar smiled when he saw them coming. ‘You boys find anything worthwhile?’
‘Mr Hagar, did anybody else come by today asking you questions?’
Mr Hagar nodded. ‘Yessir. Right after you boys left a man come here and ask me if he could go on the old property and do some surveying work. He told me he’s a historian. From Australia. He give me a big box of cigars.’ Mr Hagar held up the cigar and smiled. ‘Nice man. Very nice white man.’
The boys sighed inwardly. Yes, Mackey had beat them. He must have had one of his men following and listening to them the whole time as Charlie suspected. While they lingered in the village his men had gone to find the markings on the tree.
‘Let’s go back over there,’ James said. ‘They must have left something behind. They’re not that smart.’‘Let’s go,’ Jerome said. If the past was any indication, Mackey’s men had left at least one stone unturned.
They walked around the base of the tree that had been cut down. ‘They sure worked fast,’ James said.
‘Yeah. And I didn’t hear anything. Not even a buzz – and they had to use a powerful saw to cut down these old trees,’ Charlie said idly, his expression deep in concentration.
Jerome thought for a few seconds then laughed out loud. ‘We’ve been duped.’
‘What?’ James’s expression said murder.
‘Mr Hagar, or whatever his name is, told us a big, fat lie. They pay him to put us on the wrong trail. These trees was cut down at least a week ago. Long before we or Mackey even thought of coming up here. Look at the trunks where they was cut. Dry. All of them dry.’
‘Wait. So who cut them down?’ Charlie asked.
‘I don’t know.’ Jerome rubbed his forehead.
‘I going back over there,’ James scowled.
‘Where? To Mr Hagar?’
‘Yep. I’ll make that old madman talk to me.’ James stalked off and Jerome and Charlie followed tentatively. Jerome felt he had to keep James and his temper in check. They couldn’t just go off threatening old people. It wasn’t right. Granny would be really upset.
Mr Hagar was still sitting on his porch smoking his precious cigar when James stomped up the steps and stood in front of him. ‘Why you lie to us?’
‘What?’ Mr Hagar looked mildly confused. ‘What you mean lie to you?’
‘You lied. Those men paid you to lie to us!’
Mr Hagar shook his head and looked down at the holey floor of his verandah. ‘I’m an old man. The only time anyone ever come and see me is when they want to find that stupid treasure.’
‘So you admit you lied!’
‘I didn’t lie. I tell you what you want to hear. Same as what I told that old white man.’
‘Who cut down the trees?’ James demanded.
‘Who cut down the trees?’ Mr Hagar echoed. He looked into the distance as he spoke. ‘I did. I cut down those damned trees. They been talking to me these last few weeks. Telling me trouble is coming. Every night, they keep me up, whispering the same thing. So I cut them down and burned them.’
‘But what…why would you do that?’ Jerome was thrown. Why would the old man just cut down all these grand, majestic old trees?
‘I tired of the voices,’ Mr Hagar said emphatically. ‘I can tell you what she wrote on them, that wicked witch,’ he said. ‘But they all gone now. All of them. Now I can sleep in peace’
***
It was almost four o’ clock. Even the hens and roosters busily traipsed toward their keepers’ homes. In a sleepy village like Wouge Place people turned in early; four o’clock was almost supper time.
The boys waited at the bus stop in silence, hoping the mini-bus would turn the corner soon. It would take almost two hours to get home and by then it would be dark. Granny would not be happy. They had missed their shift at church, which meant Granny had had to clean the entire church by herself. They were in big trouble.
‘It’s worth it,’ James said again as they took the seats at the back of the bus. ‘We have everything we need now.’
‘I don’t know,’ Jerome said thoughtfully. Guilt piled up on his shoulder when he pictured Granny mopping the floors and wiping down the pews by herself after taking care of Father Mackey’s needs. What kind of people were they? He had to shrug off those feelings; he could feel pricking behind his eyes.
He pulled out his notebook and went through the clues again: Adam, Babel, Red Land, Abed, Hagar.
Charlie shook his head. ‘This seems way too easy. I mean, we’re only two letters away? And much smarter people than you guys have been searching for this thing for decades? It’s just way too easy.’
They didn’t answer. Mr Hagar’s deception had unnerved them. They agreed with Charlie but they were too discouraged by the truth of what he said and by the fact that Granny’s wrath was awaiting. As the bus neared Roseau, their heartbeats intensified. Granny would be so angry. Their dread only increased as they walked up the path to the house. They could see that the front door was wide open and all the lights in the house were on. Granny must have sent out a search party! She must be waiting with the police!
‘Be strong,’ Charlie said as he waved good-bye at his gate. Cider wouldn’t mind his being late as long as he was with them.
Jerome and James climbed the steps to their house slowly as if on a march to the death chamber. Then they heard loud voices, laughter, in the house. ‘What’s going on?’
They walked through the open doors and stopped dead. Their father was sitting on the sofa, with Granny at his side, laughing out loud. He turned to look at them and his face froze in proud recognition. He stood and Jerome realised that his father was a tall, handsome man.
‘Hello, my sons,’ he said.
Chapter 18
It’s strange how life can be transformed in an instant. Jerome thought that his life had made an immediate, dramatic change. One minute he was just a little pers
on worried about getting home late on a Saturday and the next minute, poof, he was making life-shifting decisions that made him feel like the most important person on earth.
This was how both boys felt as they sat next to their father. They could feel him, touch him, and see his mouth form the words as he spoke of the house he’d just bought in America, the wonderful neighbourhood in Boston, the great school they would attend, his new wife who was eagerly waiting to meet them and treat them as her own children. Disney World. Super highways. McDonald’s. Dairy Queen. MTV. It no longer seemed an intangible dream. It was right there in John-Boy’s big, firm gesticulating hands. As a matter of fact the paperwork stared right at them from the tabletop. The visas were ready. All they had to do was go to the American Consulate in Barbados to be processed then they would be on their way to the Promised Land.
James couldn’t stop looking at his father. He remembered him now. He was six when his father left – and those monthly letters never did put a shape to the diaphanous image in his head. But now it was different: he could see himself in John-Boy; the strength and physicality in his every move. The way he talked with his hands. The way he tilted his head to the side when he laughed. I am my father’s son, James’s adoring eyes said. For a few minutes he forgot about treasure. He was where he wanted to be.
Jerome was more sceptical. He didn’t feel a strong connection immediately. And he remembered more now, too. Looking into his father’s eyes and sharing his embrace brought back a flood of memories. Jerome remembered. He was the one who was most like his mother, everyone said. He was the one his father could barely stand to look at after she disappeared into the sea. He was the one whom his father said should stop spending all his time daydreaming and reading and go outside, climb a mango tree, pick up a cricket bat. He suspected his father loved him but it wasn’t an easy kind of love. He saw pain when he looked into John-Boy’s eyes. But he loved his father back, in a fearful kind of way.
He ate his fourth Kit-Kat bar of the night and Granny didn’t even bat an eyelash. They were gifts from Daddy and since everyone was so excited no one would care.
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