The insistent bleeping of the bulldozer almost drowned out the workmen’s cries. But Craig, the operator, a great big burly guy who barely fit in the cab, couldn’t find his headphones this morning, and they usually drowned out the growl of engines—and any other noise too. Not that Provincetown was a noisy place, at least not in the off season. Even so, without his headphones, Craig knew he would end up with a pounding headache by the end of the day if he was forced to listen to the sounds of the construction site.
The foreman on-site, Steve, gave him shit about it all the time, said it was dangerous if he couldn’t hear what was going on around him. Craig told Steve he should try to listen to that noise every damn day instead of sitting in his cosy office. Then let him say it was dangerous. Asshole.
As it was he didn’t have them on today, so he killed the engine and climbed out of the cab. He went over to where two other guys and Joanne, who sometimes worked with their crew, were gesturing excitedly and pointing. He looked down into the ditch he’d just been digging out. Well, shit. It really was something. A box. Not a big box—it was about three feet by three feet—and it looked old.
Craig climbed down into the ditch.
“Don’t you think we should call the boss? It might be a body or something,” one of the guys who’d found it said.
Craig looked up. “Hell no. It ain’t a body. And even if it is, it’s been down here a long time. It’ll be bones by now. I’m going to look. Fuck the boss—I dug it up, I should be the one who sees what it is.”
Craig flicked up the catches on the box. They opened easier than he thought they would considering how long it must have been buried. He pushed up the lid, half expecting a body like the guy said, but it wasn’t. What it was was going to make Craig fucking rich.
There were a bunch of broken pots and some cloth that had rotted away until it was just scraps. But there was also jewellery. Gold and silver. And a couple knives that looked like weapons.
“Hey, don’t touch that,” Craig said as Joanne reached into the box and picked up one of the pieces of jewellery.
“Ouch—damn, Craig. You made me cut myself,” Joanne said and pulled her hand back.
“It’s only a little cut—don’t be a baby. And don’t touch my stuff,” Craig said.
Craig turned his attention back to the box and grinned.
Finders keepers, which meant no more construction sites and no more bulldozers for him.