The Old Cape House (27 page)

“I guess so. We’re open in the gallery every day from 11 – 5 pm. We’re always here as our house is attached to the business.”

“Fine, I hope to see you soon. Goodbye.”

I ran to get the kitchen phone to see who was on the Caller ID. The screen said the last call was ‘unavailable’. That’s odd, I thought, and went to find Paul.

He was framing his new watercolor. I loved it. The painting captured the shadow of the sun on the roof of the old cottage, just the way I remembered it when we’d walked around Rock Harbor a few weeks earlier. It was stunning. “Honey, it’s beautiful.”

“Thank you.” He stood back to admire it also.

“Oh, I’ve got something to tell you. We just had a phone call, supposedly from the
Whydah
Museum, in Provincetown. Some guy wants to come and look at what we found. ” I glanced outside to see
Brian getting dropped off by a co-worker. “The Caller ID said the
number was unavailable. I assume it was someone from the
Museum.”

“They could have been on their cell,” Paul suggested.

“I guess so.”

“Not to worry. I’m always at home with you.”

“I know. Oh, and by the way, the new painting is absolutely gorgeous.”

***

After dinner, with the kids in bed, Paul and I sat at the kitchen table treating ourselves to ice cream. “Do you think that our lives will ever be calm?” I asked.

“You were the one who wanted adventure.” Paul laughed as he ate a spoonful of creamy vanilla bean.

“Yeah, and you came right along for the ride, didn’t you?”

I finished up my bowl of chocolate and grabbed the plastic
baggy
that held the old vellum pieces. I pointed to the old script. “You
know, these letters have got to stand for Maria Hallett and Sam Bellamy. And the 1715 date could easily tie in with the Doane people who owned this property.”

Paul scraped his bowl. “The cellar had to be connected to
another house on our land. Maria could have traveled here from Eastham for any number of reasons. I guess we’ll never know.”

I stroked the brittle vellum. “Bottom line…I think we have a real connection to an old Cape Cod legend here.”

***

Paul got a phone call the next morning requesting his attendance at an exhibit in Boston. He’d leave tomorrow but only be gone for a few days.

“I’m sorry, honey. I hadn’t planned on going, but they said it
would be good for sales if the artist were present. It’s very casual; I could
take the kids with me. I bet Casey would take care of Molly and
Brian could help me load and unload the paintings. What do you think?”

“Sure. I’ll be fine. If I need something, Jim will be home at night
and in the morning. And I shouldn’t need the car for those few
days.”

“Okay, check your groceries and I’ll start packing. If you need anything, we’ll go to the store this afternoon.” Paul went upstairs to pack and to tell Molly, Casey and Brian, who were still sleeping, about their upcoming trip.

***

As they all prepared to head out, I stood in the driveway and watched the kids fill the van with their backpacks and snacks. I felt
apprehensive about Paul leaving me alone, but I tried to act
confident in front of everyone. I knew it was important for Paul to sell as many
paintings as he could. Our budget was tight and we were going to
have to really save for the winter. I’d be fine, I assured myself, wrapping my arms around my waist. Of course, with the new baby coming, and our insurance coverage still uncertain, this only added to my tension. In fact, we were both turning into two very uptight people.

 “I love you,” I called out as I waved goodbye to my family. I watched the car as it drove away until I couldn’t see it anymore. It was too early to open the gallery, so I went into the house to start the laundry.

April 26, 1717

EASTHAM – CAPE COD

MARIA SURVIVED ANOTHER WINTER
with Sam’s words
etched in her heart. She sat in the dimly lit room by her spinning wheel, her
eyes closed, not wanting to see her meager belongings scattered
around the dismal McKeon house. They were a painful reminder of the deep sadness that consumed her life. With her hands resting in her lap, she slowly breathed in and out.

When she grew tired of sitting, Maria stood to look out the
window at the distant evening sky. The last light of day was fading into churning storm clouds. She sighed. Another April had come, but not without a great number of nor’easters that had already wreaked havoc upon the sandy spit of Cape Cod. As the rain began to fall, she could feel the dampness already creeping through her young bones.

It had been a year since Minda had delivered Sam’s letter, which
Maria kept safe in her keepsake box, now worn smooth from so
many readings. She cherished his words as she continued her quest of waiting for him. She knew she had nothing else to hope for and lived for this simple promise from a man who said he loved her. It was a
promise that she clung to as she fulfilled her nightly vigil of
watching
for his ship. The arrival of dusk each night hid Maria from the
probing eyes of her neighbors as she walked the bluffs in search of Sam.

Tonight was turning cold and menacing; the approaching storm made her wish in a fleeting moment that she had never met Sam.
Accepting her fate, she gathered a shawl around her head and
shoulders and fastened it with a large knot, then reached for a piece of old canvas hanging on a hook. She flung the door open and threw the
canvas high in the air over her head; her strong arms like two
wooden masts on a tall ship held up her canvas sail.

Maria flew down the path and up the bluffs. The rain blew so hard it blinded her view. As she approached the top of the bluff, her eyes glimpsed something in the churning water. She wiped the seawater’s spray from her face, trying to make sense of the object in the sea. The frothing water tossed it back and forth, slowly breaking
it apart. She questioned her own eyes before she realized it was a
ship.

Her heart pounded as she ran down the side of the bluff. She stumbled onto the beach, where her feet sank into thick wet sand. Struggling to keep her balance, she shielded her eyes from the rain
by keeping her head down under the canvas. The swirling sand
stung and bit at her cheeks, but she pushed herself toward the
shoreline, straining to see the ship in the water.

A gust of wind knocked her over. Maria fell onto a small mound with a dull thump. Her canvas sail was ripped from her grasp. As her fingers moved across the bumpy wet lump, she felt a cold, fishlike object. She screamed and withdrew her hand, pushed herself up and away, too fearful to look down.

The force of the storm raged around her. The dark of the night overwhelmed her senses with fears of the unknown. She held her hands to either side of her face to scan the beach and saw more dark clumps scattered across the sand.

***

Three men huddled against a sandy cliff and watched the lone figure stagger across the storm tossed beach among the bodies of their fellow shipmates.

“Damn those mooncussers. Can they not leave the dead in
peace?” hissed the dark skinned man.

“Quiet,” their captain cautioned them.

***

Maria turned away from the shadowy beach and searched again the inky water for the ship. Like an apparition it came into view–it was keeled over to one side. Within seconds the waves had flipped it over; then another crash of the surf tossed it upright again. Maria tried to decipher the letters across the bow of the mangled vessel. She thought she saw,
Whyd
...then remembered what Minda had told her, “There are rumors in town about your Sam. They say he is a pirate who stole the ship
Whydah
.”

Her heart swelled in a moment of hope that this could be Sam’s ship but instantly fell to despair when she looked at the dark shapes on the beach.
Oh God! Where is he?? Is it possible...? Could he be dead?

As one monstrous wave crested, it sucked the ship sideways, then rolled it over so its bottom became its top. Cannons from its hull crashed down through the deck and cracked the doomed vessel in half.

“SAM!” Maria screamed into the darkness. “SAM BELLAMY!” She cried above the wind but to no avail; the thundering surf and
vicious storm screeched along the beach like a swarm of banshees
destroying anything in their path.

Maria forced herself to touch the dark mound nearest to her feet.
As she turned it over a lightening flash revealed the corpse of a
wretched man, his eyes wide open, frozen in terror. She screamed,
slapped her hand up to her mouth and thought she would vomit.

A sudden urgency overwhelmed her fear as she called on her
courage to search the dark objects for her beloved Sam–if, God
forbid, he was among them. The wind blew stronger, and the force of the rain against her face blinded her. Maria tried to wipe away the water
from her eyes, but the darkness further hindered her vision. She
needed a lantern. If Sam was here, she must find him.

After only a few steps Maria realized running in the wet sand
was impossible. Her feet sank with each step, and her body swayed side
to side, back and forth. She was forced to walk with slow, careful steps through the heavy sand. Her mind raced with thoughts of Sam as she climbed back up over the bluff and ran down the path to her
house.

***

Through shivering teeth one of the men said, “We must follow her to shelter.”

“Agreed. Let’s go.” Their captain stood and led his men, keeping
a safe distance behind Maria. The three men whispered ideas for
their plan as they crept along the sandy path. They needed a wagon and a horse to retrieve whatever valuables had washed up onto the beach.
They would raid the nearest houses until they found what they needed… and they’d use whatever means was necessary.

***

Breathless, Maria finally reached her door. Once inside, she
grabbed the curved wire handle of the glass beacon that hung on a hook by the hearth. As she spun around to close the door to light the lantern in the dry house, she came face-to-face with three dark shapes in her doorway. In the faint glow from the hearth she saw three sets of eyes glaring back at her. Overwhelmed by the terrors of the stormy night, her eyes tricked her into thinking they were demons from the dead men on the beach. The lantern crashed to the floorboards as Maria collapsed and her head slammed against the stones in the hearth.

***

John Julian stepped over the girl’s body as Thomas Davis slammed the door shut against the storm.

Their captain pushed Julian away from Maria. “Let me see the woman.”

Sam Bellamy found himself looking at his beloved Maria. He
scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. He knelt
down by her side and held her hand.

The other two men watched their captain in silence; fully aware that he had found his love, the young girl he called Maria. They stood by the hearth and waited for their orders.

Sam finally turned to Davis. “Go to the house past the trees
where we saw lights. John will stay with me.” He knew that John Julian, being an Indian, would have no chance of getting help as prejudice was still within many a man in New England. He placed his hands
on Davis’s shoulders. “You are the only one who would be safe.
Convince the people that you are not a pirate and in need of their
help.”

“I’ll go,” he said.

“Thomas, if you have to, entice them with the promise of a share
of whatever we find on the beach.” Sam looked at John for
agreement.

He nodded yes.

“Go now and be quick. I’ll tend to my Maria while you’re gone.” He moved towards Maria’s bed, where she still lay unconscious from her fall.

***

The Welshman, Thomas Davis, never imagined himself as a
pirate. He originally signed as a carpenter on the ship ‘St. Michael’, sailing from Cork to Jamaica. Bellamy and his crew, upon capturing his ship, took Davis captive. Badly in need of a carpenter, they’d kept
him against his will. Being a God-fearing man, Davis wanted
nothing to do with pirating. While at sea he’d stayed quiet, done his work, and always looked for ways to gain his freedom, but that never came. During his captivity, Captain Sam Bellamy had been good to Davis. He’d respected the craftsmanship of the carpenter’s work and Davis had returned a mutual respect to him.

Tonight he had survived the shipwreck with minor injuries: cuts, bruises and a possible broken toe, which now made him limp. This was nothing compared to the fate of his fellow shipmates. He wondered if the Lord had a far greater purpose for him yet to come. Convincing himself to do his best to get help, he knew what he had to do. The soon-to-be-salvaged treasure was all he had now, even if
it was stolen. After all, he deserved it, considering all that he’d
endured.

***

When Maria woke, she found herself lying in her bed. Lifting her
hand, she could feel her coverlet and a dry shift. As she lay still, she
remembered there had been a storm. Her clothes had been soaked. She moved only her eyes, trying to catch glimpses of what and who surrounded her. She could see the fire in the hearth and her bare feet stuck out from under a blanket. Two men were sitting at her table.

Present Day – July 23

CAPE COD

NEIL HALLETT WAITED FOR HIS BUDDY
in Eastham. He
needed an accomplice and was stuck with this guy again. The only good trait his partner-in-crime had shown in past schemes was that he could keep his mouth shut. “It’s about time you got here,” Neil said as he opened his front door to Jack Hennessey.