Tremolo

by Aaron Paul Lazar

  We agreed to be careful, and then continued with our game of Tiddlywinks.

  Chapter 51

  I turned off the spigots and reached for my towel. The wooden slats that served as a floor in the shower building were wet and slippery. I walked carefully to the rack holding my clothes, inhaling the scent of Ivory soap permeating the moist air. Although I’d protested that I didn’t need a shower, since I swam so often, my mother insisted. As usual, she was right, and in spite of my protests, the warm soapy water felt good on my skin.

  I’d been thinking of Big Blue and the sunken rowboat all morning. Last night, Siegfried and I discussed it for a long time while the lake lapped against the boulders under our floor. We’d envisioned other treasures, too. Perhaps other boats had crashed on the rock over the years and sank to the golden bottom, leaving valuable items to corrode on the lakebed. It was an exciting fantasy. The only impediment was a young girl with curly dark hair who promised my grandmother we wouldn’t venture near the sunken rowboat.

  I stepped into my swimming trunks and reached for my clean shirt, the idea taking hold and growing in my imagination.

  If only we could find a way to ditch Elsbeth.

  Immediately, I felt guilty. Although my parents hadn’t forbidden me to use the boat, Big Blue was far out, unprotected by adults. Sliding into my flip-flops, I bundled up my dirty clothes in a damp towel and reached for the plastic soap case. I’d have to give the idea some more thought.

  I pushed out of the men’s side of the shower and nearly collided with Betsy.

  “Whoops!” she laughed, stepping aside as I jumped down the steps.

  “Sorry, Betsy,” I said.

  She started up the stairs to the women’s side, then hesitated. She turned, cocked her head, and looked at me pensively. “I’ve been meaning to speak to you, Gus. About the other night.” She came back one step and rested her arm on the railing, looking down at the ground. “I wanted to thank you for standing up for me the other night. That man was just horrible, and you were so brave.”

  I stood stock still, drinking in her words.

  She smiled. It was a little girl smile, free from the trappings of the usual teen attitude. She extended one slim hand to me.

  I responded, taking hers in mine.

  Gently, she shook hands with me. “Anyway, I just wanted you to know how grateful I am. You’re an amazing young man, Gus LeGarde.”

  She released my hand, turned, and walked into the shower.

  Immobile, with my wet towel in hand, I melted under her praise.

  I love you.

  I mouthed the words, but nothing came out.

  Slowly, in a trance-like state, I started to walk down the hill to Wee Castle. Suddenly, Siegfried and Elsbeth hailed me from the top of the hill.

  “Gus! Up here!”

  I shook myself out of the dream-like state and trotted up the sandy path toward them.

  Elsbeth sat on the ground behind the long gray bench flanking the camp office. Her brother stood on the opposite side of the bench, arranging various rocks on the flat painted surface.

  “Wanna buy some rocks, Gus?”

  The collection was interesting. Smooth round stones, quartz, sparkling mica, and various other shapes and sizes were neatly arranged in rows.

  “Nice collection, twins. How much are you asking for this one?” I pointed to a piece of rose-colored quartz.

  Siegfried smiled, and I could tell he was glad I hadn’t made fun of them. “It’s Elsbeth’s store, Gus. You’ll have to ask her.”

  “Well, Elsbeth, what do you say? How about one stick of gum?”

  She pursed her lips and pretended to agonize over the decision. Finally, she nodded her head happily, wrapped the stone in a large leaf, and handed it to me. “You drive a hard bargain, Mister.”

  I pulled a pack of Teaberry gum out of my swim trunks pocket and slid out a stick, holding it out for her.

  She drew it out of the pack and laid it on the bench.

  Siegfried looked at me, his eyes filled with suppressed excitement. “So, you’re all set up now, Elsbeth. Need any more help? Gus and I were gonna do some sweeping down at the sundeck.”

  “Nein, danke. The store’s all ready to go. I’ll be pretty busy up here. You go ahead.”

  I glanced at Siegfried, unwilling to believe our good fortune. “Well, good luck. Hope you sell a ton of them.”

  She carefully arranged several of the rocks to fill the spot that the rose quartz had vacated. Preoccupied with her “store,” she thanked me, but didn’t look up from her wares.

  We exchanged glances, turned on our heels, and ran down the hill.

  “You sweep real quick while I dump these clothes and get the masks. I’ll meet you at the dock in five minutes, okay?”

  Siegfried nodded, grabbed the broom from the living room porch, and vaulted down the stairs and up to the sundeck in seconds. He’d already begun to sweep the deck by the time I rounded the corner of the porch and pounded down the boardwalk fronting the lakeside units.

  Shadow greeted me at the porch of Wee Castle, wagging his tail when I stopped for a moment to pat him. I ran past my parents who were drinking coffee at the kitchen table, dropped the damp towel bundle in the wicker hamper in the bathroom and then raced into my bedroom to grab both sets of masks and fins that Siegfried and I had stowed there last evening.

  “Going swimming, son?” my father asked from the doorway.

  I froze, smiled sheepishly, then nodded. “Yup. We’re gonna take the boat out a little ways, Dad. Maybe do a little swimming or fishing. Just Sig and me. Is that okay?”

  He studied me for a moment. “All right, but don’t go too far, son. And come back in time for lunch. Remember to wear your life vests in the boat. And if you do any swimming out there, be extra careful. We’ve had our share of, er, adventures this summer, don’t you agree?”

  “Yup. Okay, Dad.” I nodded woodenly, knowing full well he wouldn’t approve of my plans. I scurried out of the house and grabbed two towels from the porch railing, shouting as I went. “See ya later.”

  Chapter 52

  We cut the motor and the skiff glided over flat water toward the sullen shape of Big Blue glimmering beneath the surface.

  A flutter of nerves danced in my stomach. I exchanged excited glances with Siegfried. “There she is, Big Blue.”

  Siegfried tossed the anchor overboard, letting the rope run through his fingers until he felt it hit bottom. It took only seconds, confirming my grandfather’s knowledge about the depth of the water at this point. We’d stopped about five hundred feet from the sparsely populated west end of the lake. I shivered involuntarily, remembering that night in the fog, floating in the dark lake, running along the misty shoreline, and seeing the bloodied face of Sharon Adamski.

  Siegfried knotted the rope at the bow to prevent us from drifting too far off target. “Okay. We’re secure.” He leaned over to look into the water.

  I joined him as the boat circled slowly around its tether, rocking under the hot sun. I peered over the side, trying to locate the sunken rowboat. I discerned a shape or two—the huge boulder reaching up from the bottom, a tall stretch of weeds floating under the surface—but it was difficult to see clearly because of the reflection.

  “I can’t see very well,” I said. The sun beat down on my back. Rays bounced off the surface of the water and back up to our faces, heightening the effect of the overwhelming heat. Stripping off my shirt, I wiped a bead of sweat from my brow.

  “Ein moment,” Siegfried said, picking up his facemask with a flourish. He pushed it against his face and leaned over the side of the boat into the water. After a while, he raised his head and pointed. “It’s over there. I can see it.”

  “Come on,” I shouted, putting on my black rubber fins and adjusting the straps.

  We grabbed our facemasks and lowered ourselves over the side of the Starcraft. Treading water, we rinsed the masks and then put them on. I breathed in through my nose, sucking the m
ask closer to my face to make a tight seal.

  Siegfried began to swim on the surface with his face down in the water, leading me toward the location. He stopped and looked up at me. His blue eyes shone through the mask lens. “It’s right under us, Gus.”

  We took three deep breaths and then somersaulted into the clear water. The fins gave our kicks extra power, and we reached the boat in seconds. It lay upside-down at an angle against Big Blue, its splintered hull facing us. Shafts of sunlight filtered onto the skiff, causing iridescent ripples to play over its surface.

  Siegfried spied the anchor first, and motioned that he’d get it. The gold sand puffed up beneath his feet in the pale green water as he swam to it and took out his pocketknife. He began to saw at the rope to detach it from the sunken craft.

  I moved closer to the boat and tried to reach under it to locate the oar locks. A large bass surprised me, flitting out from under the boat. It swam past my mask, its scales glittering. Pressure built in my chest and I was forced to release a stream of bubbles into the water; I’d have to resurface soon.

  I moved back and turned to see Siegfried’s fins flipping toward the surface. Pushing off from the sandy bottom, I followed him and broke through into the light, breathing deeply in the brilliant sunshine. “Did you get it?”

  He pushed his mask onto his blond hair and smiled, holding the side of the boat with one hand. “Ja.” He raised his free hand and showed me the end of a frayed rope.

  “Neat.” I helped him drag the anchor up and over the side of the boat. “We’ll have to flip the boat to get at the oarlocks, Sig.”

  He rinsed his mask in fresh water and nodded. “Ja. Let’s go.”

  I did the same and dove down to the wreck again. We pulled on the starboard side and flipped the boat over. Clouds of sand rose up, temporarily obscuring our vision. Finally, the water cleared and we began to work on freeing the oarlocks. After several tries, we finally squeezed hard enough on the cotter pins at the base of the locks. They pulled free.

  We swam easily to the surface, located the boat where it had moved around on its tether, and then dropped them into the boat.

  I breathed through my mouth, still wearing the mask. “Any chance we could tow the old boat back? Do you think it’s worth it?”

  He thought for a minute, then shook his head. “Nein. I don’t think so. Unless you could float it again, it would be too heavy to drag and would probably catch on rocks.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed, disappointed. “I suppose you’re right.”

  He moved closer to me so that our masks nearly touched, and said, “But how about searching for other wrecks? Remember?” His eyes flashed with excitement, sending a shiver of anticipation down my spine.

  “Yeah, come on.” I took several deep breaths and disappeared beneath the surface with my best friend in the world.

  Chapter 53

  We swam slowly along the bottom, searching for salvage among the rocks and weeds. After several minutes of finding nothing, we surfaced again.

  “Let’s try on the other side of Big Blue,” I suggested.

  Siegfried nodded and we swam along the surface toward the submerged boulder. He pulled himself up onto the rock.

  I knocked my knee against the slimy surface and followed him, breaking open the scab I’d earned from my previous fall over the roots. I winced, then stood beside him knee deep in water on the slippery surface.

  He pushed his mask up on his face and shaded his eyes, peering into the water.

  I looked down at the blood seeping from my knee into the lake. A faint red cloud swirled around my leg.

  The cry of a nearby loon echoed in eerie hysteria, rippling across the lake.

  “Over there,” Siegfried gestured excitedly. “Something’s shining down there!”

  Ignoring my injury, I followed and we scrambled back into the water, repositioning our masks.

  “Deep breath,” he said, exhaling and then inhaling a lungful of air.

  We swam to the bottom in the direction of his find. He began to dig at something that was partially submerged beneath the sand. When he finally unburied the treasure, he held it up with a crooked smile. It was an old propeller from a gas engine.

  Some poor soul had run right over Big Blue with their boat, shattering their propeller in the process.

  Siegfried tossed the piece of metal back onto the floor of the lake and shrugged.

  I smiled back at him, almost bursting into laughter, but held it in for fear of inhaling a mouthful of water. I looked over his shoulder. An odd-shaped object loomed in the distance, about twenty feet beyond Big Blue. My eyes widened and I pointed over Siegfried’s shoulder.

  He turned, spotted it, and then pointed upward.

  We resurfaced and began to swim in the direction of the find, babbling excitedly. Once at the spot, we took another deep breath and dove down.

  The item lay on the sandy bed in a crate. Wooden slats were crushed and the straw it was packed in was soggy and disintegrated, revealing the telltale shape of a bell.

  Heart pounding, I swam closer and pulled the remaining straw away from it. I rubbed the surface of the ancient relic and nearly inhaled lake water when I realized what lay before me. At the bottom rim of the bell there was an engraved signature: Paul Revere.

  Siegfried motioned toward another shape several feet away. I followed him, flipping my fins rapidly. This carton had broken open when it was lowered into the water. Strewn along the sandy bottom were items that glittered and shone in the shafts of sunlight.

  I reached for one and lifted it up, removing it from a soggy wool wrapper. A small porcelain statue of the Virgin Mary glittered before me, its gemstone-studded base twinkling in the watery light.

  Siegfried grabbed an item and pointed up. I nodded and we resurfaced together.

  “This is it!” I gasped, raising the statue into the light. “It’s the stuff they stole from the churches. That bell is the one from St. Stephen’s church in Boston. The one Paul Revere cast.”

  We swam toward the boat and clambered over the side, studying the items we’d found.

  Siegfried unwrapped his treasure, revealing a filigreed gold candlestick. We looked at each other; our mouths dropped open in shock.

  “Scheisse.” Siegfried swore under his breath. “I don’t understand.”

  “I know. Why the heck would they hide the stuff underwater? It doesn’t make any sense.”

  Siegfried switched back to English. “Maybe they planned to hide it in that shack. You know, the one Adamski burned down. Then, when the police started searching for him, the area became too hot. They needed to lay low until they tried to ship it out of the country. They probably planned to hide it in those shipments of woolen fabric. Remember you saw him wrap up that scepter? They’d wrap the small stuff inside the bolts, and then bury the large crates in the back of the truck behind the rest of the material.”

  “It makes sense,” I said. “I guess no one would search for the stuff under water. When the heat dies down, they’ll probably come out at night and lift it up back onto a boat. Maybe they’ll use a larger boat, and a crane. If they drive down one of those logging roads on the west side, no one would even see them.”

  “Ja,” Siegfried said, his analytical brain working overtime as he turned the candlestick around in his hand.

  “What should we do?” I said.

  “I think we should get as much into our boat as we can, for proof. No one will believe us if we don’t have evidence.”

  “Okay. Let’ get cracking.”

  We dove down into the water and went to work.

  Chapter 54

  We worked for over an hour, diving to the sandy bottom over and over again, retrieving the treasures.

  I’d taken a deep breath and resumed my attempt to open the third crate when the thrum of a motorboat sounded nearby. I looked up as the shadow of a large boat cruised overhead.

  Siegfried was up top, unloading his armful of goods into the Starcraft. The dark
shape pulled alongside our boat. I assumed Siegfried was explaining our find to our visitors and continued pulling slats from the roughly fashioned crate, removing a heavy silver platter from a cloth wrapper.

  As I marveled over the find, I heard Siegfried jump back into the water. I turned to face him and was astounded to see the ugly face of Frank Adamski through the lens of Siegfried’s mask.

  Horrified, I dropped the platter and pushed away, using my fins to propel myself backwards through the water.

  Adamski’s hand closed around my ankle. I struggled to kick free and finally loosened his hold enough to escape. Spinning around, I swam for my life, pushing through a thicket of weeds. He pulled on my left fin. I kicked maniacally until the fin worked free. With one fin remaining, I swam frantically away from him, weeds brushing my legs and arms.

  Adamski caught up to me, grabbed my arm, and pulled me to him. I started to run out of breath, and struggled in a panic. His hands closed around my neck and his eyes bulged large and angry through the glass. He clamped thick fingers around my throat.

  I tried to pull back and bumped against something soft. Panicking, I tried to duck out from his stranglehold.

  Long golden wisps of fine blonde hair waved against my cheek. I panicked, staring at Sharon Adamski’s dead eyes staring back at me, her face frozen in a surprised watery mask.

  Another splash sounded from above.

  Blackness edged around my vision.

  Siegfried torpedoed down and looped the anchor rope neatly around Frank Adamski’s throat.

  The last thing I remembered was the blurry vision of Adamski as he struggled to free himself and the firm pressure of my friend’s hands under my armpits as he dragged me back to the surface.

  Chapter 55

  “Gus? Sweetheart, wake up.”

  I swallowed, laying against my pillow with my eyes sealed shut. My throat felt sandpaper dry. Willing myself back to sleep, I ignored the insistent, soft whisper of my mother’s voice.