A Touch of Gold (3 page)

The teachers were getting the kids lined up to go outside. Agnes kissed Max good-bye and told him they were having his favorite, tacos, for supper. She reminded him not to dawdle after his meeting and come right home.

I smiled, seeing them together. I hoped someday there would be someone who looked at me that way. Right now, I was kind of stuck waiting for that person, wondering if he would ever blow into town on the right breeze and decide to stay. I’d given up on the indigenous male population.

Once the kids were in their semi-straight lines, the teachers led the way down Duck Road. There were a few backward glances and shy waves at Max, who returned them with gusto.

“Let me know how your DNA meeting goes,” I said to him before I followed the kids outside. “It would be something if you could really prove your theory about Theo Burr. That would put Duck on the map historically.”

“It’ll happen, Dae. I know I’m right. Wait until you see Sam Meacham’s face when I do it. Take it easy. See you later.”

Outside, it was a beautiful day and traffic had picked up on Duck Road. Probably a few early tourists. People who lived here were used to walking under the puffy white clouds and bright blue February skies. Some of the cars sped by, making me a little concerned for the large group of kids on their way back to school.

I’d had a few rainy days since the Walk to the Museum program started, but in general the weather had cooperated. I enjoyed helping the kids with their history lesson. I liked being the mayor of Duck and doing all the things that went with it. It took some time away from my thrift store, Missing Pieces, but sometimes that was a good thing.

Business was slow, as usual, after the crowds of summer. I usually collected more than I could sell over the winter. It was a bad habit that had filled the house I shared with my grandfather until he encouraged me to open the shop and sell the odds and ends I found.

I reached into my pocket as my cell phone rang and realized I’d forgotten to give Max the gold coin I’d found on the museum floor. I signaled the closest teacher that I had to run back to the museum. “I’ll catch up,” I yelled over the traffic passing us.

Kevin Brickman was on the phone. My heart did a little dance at the sound of his voice until I sternly reminded it that we had no real inkling of his intentions. Brickman was new to Duck, less than a year. He’d refurbished and reopened the old Blue Whale Inn and, so far, had been very successful in the undertaking.

“I was wondering if you’d like to take a break from the store and get something to drink, but I see you’re busy being the mayor,” he said with a smile in his voice.

“Where are you?” I glanced around but didn’t see his red Ford pickup. I was only a few steps from the museum door. “I’m almost done here. I could meet you somewhere.” I tried not to sound too eager to see him even though I’d spent a lot of time thinking about him.

A car full of laughing tourists went by as I waited for his reply.

Suddenly, the whole world exploded into a ball of fire with such force that it blew me backwards into Duck Road. I heard the screech of brakes around me, and everything went black.

Chapter 2

B
rickman was crouched beside me, my head cradled on his arm. He was looking down at me, his face black with soot.

“Are you okay?” He sounded scared. “Stupid question. Sorry. Not what I meant. Do you hurt anywhere? I had to move you. I’m sorry. The ambulance is on the way.”

I realized then that I’d lost consciousness. “What happened?” My voice was rough and hoarse. I coughed and choked, thick smoke coming from somewhere around us, making my eyes water. My throat and lungs burned.

“The museum blew up. I don’t know why yet. Don’t worry about it right now, Dae. Focus on staying awake. Stay with me until they come for you.”

I was so tired. My head and right leg hurt. “Kevin, I don’t know if I can.”

“You can.” His face came closer to mine. “Stay with me, Dae. Come on. Stay awake. You might have a head injury. It would be a miracle if you
don’t
have a head injury.”

“I’m too tired,” I whined, despite myself. That’s when I knew
something
was really wrong. I never whine.

“You can do it,” he coaxed, despite my whining. “Come on, Dae. Do it for me. Look at my face. Tell me about Duck. Tell me about the pirates and all the things you’ve collected in Missing Pieces. Don’t close your eyes, sweetheart. Stay here. Focus on me.”

Despite the fact that most of me seemed to be lying on pavement littered with debris, it was easy to do as he asked. I liked the sound of his voice. It made me feel warm and wanted. I tried to smile and reassure him that I was all right, that he didn’t have to stay if he needed to be somewhere else. But the words wouldn’t come, and slowly he faded from my vision and everything went dark again.

 

 

I
was dreaming about Theodosia Burr. She was wearing white, just as the legends describe, and she was being forced to walk a rickety plank of wood that led off of an old ship. It rocked at its anchor, causing her to reach out to the closest pirate to keep her balance.

“Let ’er fall!” one of the pirates yelled and the rest agreed.

The man Theodosia reached out to kept her steady, but he couldn’t save her from her fate. He moved away from her, and I could see his face. It was Kevin Brickman with long hair and gold coins that made a chain around his neck. He wore brightly colored clothes and tall, leather boots.

Theodosia stood at the edge of the abyss, her snow white slippers clinging to the plank that had become her doom. Her lovely face turned toward the men as she begged them to carry news of her death to her father and her husband. “I only ask this of you. Please do not make them suffer wondering what became of me.”

The men surrounding her laughed again and pushed at the wobbly plank with their boots. For a moment, she put out her arms again, as though someone would be there for her. Then, as though resigned to her death, she crossed her hands over her heart and plunged down into the cold waters of the Atlantic.

But one man was missing from the pirate crew. The Kevin Brickman pirate had lowered a long boat, unseen by his peers. As the pirates finished laughing and turned away to other chores, Brickman was fishing Theodosia out of the water. She lay in the bottom of the boat, shivering and coughing, as he rowed toward Nags Head.

 

 

I
woke with a start, sitting straight up in the hospital bed. Alarms went off and tubes flew around me.

“Take it easy!” Gramps warned, getting to his feet. “You’ll pull all this paraphernalia out of you, and they’ll have to put it all back in.”

I lay back against the pillow and looked around the room. It was dark outside. The tiny window near my bed showed the street below.

The last thing I remembered from real life was Brickman asking me to stay awake and calling me sweetheart. Though my head was pounding with pain—it felt like thousands of miners were chipping away at something in there—I could still feel the warm glow from those words.

“What happened? Is Kevin all right? How long have I been here? Did the museum
really
blow up?”

Gramps sat back down in the chair beside the bed.

“Let’s start with you, if that’s okay. How are
you
doing? You had a lot of us worried.”

Kevin? Was he worried?
“I’m fine except for this headache. I hope they have some Tylenol. When can I go home?”

“I think the doctor expects you to spend the night. You probably have a concussion. You were only a few feet from the museum when it exploded.”

“Gramps! Are you trying to make it worse? Why did the museum explode? What happened? How is Max taking it? You know how his life is wrapped up in all that history.”

Gramps bowed his head, then looked back at me. “Max is dead, Dae.”

“What? What do you mean? He can’t be dead. I just saw him at the museum. He was waiting for his ultimate proof that Theo Burr lived on the island for years after everyone thought she was dead.”

“I’m sorry. He wasn’t as lucky as you, Agnes, and the kids. He was still in the museum when it exploded. Cailey Fargo is working through the debris with the new arson investigator from Manteo. It’ll be a while before we know what happened. But they called me a few hours ago about Max.”

“But if there was an explosion, how can they tell for sure? Everything must be all over the place. Even if they think Max is dead, he might not be. They make mistakes about these things in the early parts of an investigation. I’ve heard Chief Michaels talk about it before.”

I knew I sounded a little hysterical, but there was that jackhammer going off in my head and I couldn’t believe Max was dead. My mind raced away from that reality and wondered how our little museum could explode. It seemed impossible, but I knew if Gramps was telling me, it must be true.

“I shouldn’t have told you,” he said. “I’m sorry, honey. You have to get better, and then we’ll worry about the rest of it, okay?”

“Okay.” I bit my lip to keep myself from becoming a sniveling, whining mass. I had to get myself together and get out of the hospital so I could find out how this could happen. “Is everyone else okay?”

“You were the closest one to the scene. There were a few accidents when you flew out into the street. Some debris hit a few cars and caused some problems. But all of the kids and their teachers were far enough away. I haven’t talked to Agnes yet, but Ronnie said she was okay physically. I wouldn’t want to imagine how her mental state is.”

I stared at all the little plastic tubes around me. Some of them were plugged into me while others seemed to be waiting for their opportunity. The doctor came in and told us that I was banged up a little but essentially whole. He wanted me to spend the night but said that as long as there were no changes in my condition, I could go home in the morning. He told me a nurse would bring me something to help me sleep since it didn’t look as though I had a concussion after all.

He sounded like some bad TV show. Even his smile seemed off to me. Gramps waited until he was gone to tell me again how happy he was that I was okay. He reminded me how important it was that I spend the night in the hospital since the doctor thought it was necessary. “I don’t want to wake up in the morning and find out you sneaked back during the night. This is for your own good, Dae.”

“You don’t have to convince me,” I assured him, settling back against the pillow again. “Don’t worry. You can go home and get some sleep. I’m going to do the same.”

“I’ll be here for you in the morning.” He stood up and kissed my forehead. “I love you, honey. We’ll get to the bottom of what happened when you’re feeling better. You’ll see.”

After he was gone, I stared at the blank white ceiling for a long time. I drifted in and out, thinking about Max and the explosion. It didn’t seem real. My mind rejected it like a bad dream.

A nurse came in and gave me a pill along with a pep talk about going home in the morning. The pill helped the jackhammer in my head, but it couldn’t quiet my restless mind. The pep talk didn’t affect me. Of course I was going home tomorrow. With everything else that had happened, the idea seemed trivial and stupid.

I went over and over everything that had happened at the museum and afterward. I saw Max waving to us from the doorway as he always did. We all began to walk away, and I answered the phone call from Kevin as I started back to the museum after realizing that I still had the gold coin.

The gold coin.
It seemed to whisper to me from across the room. I wondered if the doctor was wrong and I had a head injury after all. While I had strong feelings for certain objects, I’d never experienced anything like this before. It was as though I could hear a voice calling me.

I tried to ignore the whisper and closed my eyes for a while, only to have them pop open again. But my gaze continued to go back to the bag that held my clothes. My jeans and the Duck T-shirt that I’d worn that day were in there—along with the gold coin from the museum.

I wanted,
needed
, to see the gold coin again. I told myself it was because it might be the only piece of the museum still left intact. But it was more than that. There were voices inside me. I pulled up the white blanket and sheet, covering my head. But it was no use. Seeing the coin, feeling it in my hand again, had become an obsession.

Another nurse came in and checked my pulse and temperature. “Would you like some more ice water, honey?”

“No. I’m fine, thanks.” I rustled up a smile. “I’m trying to get a good night’s sleep for tomorrow.”

“That’s right.” She beamed. “You’ll be going home in the morning. Who’s the lucky girl?”

I might’ve objected to her patronizing tone, but I was too focused on getting her out of there so I could find some way to reach my clothes. It seemed to take her forever to straighten the sheets and check the IV.
Why didn’t she leave?