Chapter 8

“You know about treasure?” Grace leaned forward. “Tell us.”

Fred’s father didn’t need further encouragement. Mai and Grace made room for him in the circle and Mai handed him a bowl of stew.

“I’ve travelled the world,” he said. There was a gleam in his eye. Or was it the flickering reflection of the fire? “And seen more treasure than you could ever dream about.”

Grace and Mai exchanged puzzled looks.

“But…” Grace said.

Fred could read their minds. Why were they getting meals at the food bank? Why weren’t they living in a big mansion? “He’s leaving out the important part,” he said. “It wasn’t his treasure.”

“It was.” His father scowled. “I got swindled!”

Fred rolled his eyes. Not this story again. “Dad, you were a hired hand, remember?”

“Fred!” Mai gasped. She looked horrified. She’d probably never had so much as an argument with her parents, let alone talked back to them.

“No, no, it’s okay,” his father said, holding up a hand. “He’s right. Or at least the judge thought the same thing.” He stared off at the water. “But that’s not how it was. We were partners.”

“What kind of treasure?” Grace asked.

“Gold. So much gold, it took us a week to get it all up. Millions!”

“Get it up from where?” Jeeter asked.

His father smiled. “The bottom of the Bermuda Triangle.”

There was a collective gasp. All eyes were fixed on Fred’s father. He had them.

“The Bermuda Triangle? For real?” Jeeter looked impressed.

Fred’s father nodded. “And everything they say is true. It doesn’t give up its secrets easily.”

Fred shook his head. He knew what came next. Heck, he could probably tell the story even better than his father could after all these years. “Why don’t we check out the rest of the fortress?” he suggested lamely.

Grace shot him an “Are you crazy?” look. “Wander around this boring old fort? We’ve got all weekend to do that. I want to hear about the treasure.”

“Me too,” Mai added. She looked apologetically at Fred.

“Fine,” Fred grumbled.

“It was an accident,” his father continued, “us finding her. Maybe she wanted to be discovered, finally, L’Herminie.”

His father poked the fire with a stick. Flames licked high, sparks drifting down around them. Fred knew he was taking his time, loving the fresh audience.

“You were the first to find the boat? Oops, I mean find her?” Mai breathed.

“This part of L’Herminie, yes. The main part of the wreck had been discovered years before. But she’d broken up and been scattered all over the coral reefs. Cannons and such had been recovered…but never gold.”

“How did you find it?” Grace asked.

His father paused, as if trying to recall the details. Fred bit the side of his cheek, holding back the “Gimme a break!” that was on the tip of his tongue.

“The sea was flat as a table that morning. Not a cloud in the sky. The site we’d been searching hadn’t delivered at all. A few cannon balls, some knives and odd bits, nothing like we’d hoped. We had done an entire grid of the bottom, too. Took our time.”

A group of re-enactors were strolling by on the quay. They stopped, looking over at everyone gathered around the fire. “Evening,” one said.

Fred’s father waved casually, but didn’t return the verbal greeting. He made no effort to stand up. The group murmured amongst themselves and resumed their walk. One glanced back their way. They seemed to sense that they weren’t welcome.

His father poked the fire again, sending a fresh spray of sparks into the darkening sky. “We packed it in and were heading to port. I was on deck, cleaning the dive gear. The da—”

Fred coughed, aware his father was about to swear.

His father looked up.

Fred shook his head.

“Oh, ah…the darn tank fell over and started rolling down the deck. I bent over to grab it…”

Grace leaned forward. “What happened then?”

“WHAM!” his father roared, smacking his two hands together.

Grace jerked backward. Her water bottle toppled off her lap and spilled into the dirt. Mai squealed and grabbed Jeeter. Even Fred, who knew it had been coming, twitched.

“White wall! A rogue wave came outta nowhere. Swamped the boat. Almost sank us.”

“Oh my gosh!” Mai’s brown eyes glowed in the firelight. “Was anyone hurt?”

Fred’s father pointed to a scar on his forearm. “Used up one of my nine lives that day.”

Mai put her hand over her mouth.

“Cool scar,” Jeeter said.

His father grunted. “Lost most of the equipment. Electronics were fried. We drifted for hours.” He settled back from the fire, his voice lowered to normal. “Ended up hung up on some coral.”

His eyes were half-closed and his speech had slowed. He always got like this. Fred figured his father was reliving every detail in his head. It reminded him of movies where characters talked about the fish that got away. L’Herminie’s gold was his dad’s fish.

“Were there any, you know, sharks or stuff like that around?” Mai asked.

His father nodded and pressed his lips together. “There are always sharks. But if you don’t bother them, they won’t bother you…mostly.” He scooped a heaping spoonful of stew from his bowl.

Mai shuddered. “None around here, though, are there?”

His father smiled. “You’d be surprised what’s swimming around our little ocean—sharks included.”

“What? I’m never going swimming again!” Mai vowed, gazing fearfully at the harbour.

“Sharks, schmarks! What about the treasure?” Grace chimed in.

“Ha, got you hooked, eh?” Fred’s father winked. “So, where was I? Oh, yes, the coral…Anyway, the boat wasn’t leaking, so we figured there was no need to panic. Since we lost the tanks, I patched myself up so I wouldn’t bleed in the water and decided to do a little snorkelling while Nip worked on the radio.”

“Nip?” Jeeter asked.

“Dad’s boss,” Fred said.

“Partner,” Fred’s father corrected. “It was a sweet dive—the reef was pristine. A school of sergeant majors were keeping me company, but a barracuda or something must’ve spooked ’em. They scattered and…there it was.”

“The treasure?” Grace said.

“You bet. Laid across the sea floor like a picnic on a blanket.”

“Wow!” Grace said. “That would be awesome.”

“There’s nothing like the weight of a gold doubloon in your hand,” Fred’s father said, closing his fingers and rubbing them together.

“You didn’t get to keep any of it?” Mai asked.

“Nip was the one who always took care of the paperwork.” His closed hand tightened into a fist. “I guess you never really know someone until there’s a king’s ransom at stake.”

No one spoke. Their glazed eyes danced eerily in the firelight. Fred figured their minds were dancing as well, imagining what having that kind of money would be like. He used to wonder, too. But he didn’t have to anymore. The box was tucked safely under his shirt. Fred had done what his father never could. He had his own treasure now and no one was going to take it away.