LAST PLACE IN THE WORLD
by
Sandpiper
Chapter 8
The Chapters
After an hour at the helm, Jack Sparrow came topside to relieve him. He nodded absently to Joe and took the wheel, leaving Joe just standing there for a moment, not knowing what to do. He spotted Anamaria checking lines and went to help her.
She gave him a surprised look and then nodded. They finished in half the time it would have taken her alone and she led the way to the bow, now empty for the moment. Joe absently wondered where Will and Elizabeth had gone to.
"What's with the trinket?"
Joe saw her point to the small gold four-leaf clover and managed a rueful grin. "You probably wouldn't believe me."
She cocked an eyebrow at him and pushed the shapeless hat further back on her head. "Oh really?"
"A leprechaun gave it to me."
Anamaria smirked. "Ugly critters, aren't they?"
Joe blinked. "You've seen one?"
Anamaria laughed. "Don't be daft. Of course not."
"I know it sounds bizarre but there were these three sisters--witches--and there was this leprechaun and a unicorn..." His voice trailed off at her expression. "What's wrong?"
Anamaria shook her head. "Voodoo magic is dangerous. No one should mess with it." She shuddered and turned away.
Joe took a deep breath. It wasn't that he didn't know his history, it was the basic fact that all this still didn't seem real. He wasn't sure exactly what to say though and as he debated on whether to apologize and drop the issue, she turned back around. "A leprechaun?" she asked, smiling faintly.
"Yeah." Joe found himself relieved she hadn't walked away.
"Then it should be good luck, right?"
Joe looked down at the small gold pin and thought about the explosion. That explosion could have killed him but it hadn't. It had sent him through time. Was that good luck? he wondered. "Yeah, I think it is."
"Land ho!" shouted a short man from the crow's nest.
Joe followed the man's pointing finger and saw the faintest smudge on the horizon. Jack Sparrow shouted orders and the crew scurried across the deck. Joe helped Anamaria adjust the sails and the Black Pearl seemed to leap across the ocean.
But no matter the speed, it still took the better part of the day to reach the smudge which had morphed into a rocky island with white sand and palm trees heavy with cocoanuts.
West and south of the island in the distance, Joe thought he saw a long black shadow. "Is that land?"
"Aye. Unknown territory there, lad," said Gibbs. "Rumor has it, the natives are bloodthirsty and cannibals."
"Must be kin to the ones who had Jack several months ago," said Will, in passing.
Gibbs sighed. "Aye, must be."
Pintel and Ragetti and several others let down boats and everyone but two of the crew went ashore. Jack flipped open his compass and swung it slowly from left to right. Finally, he set off with long strides toward the interior of the island.
The crew followed, some holding pick-axes and shovels. Joe wondered if there really would be some sort of X-marks-the-spot like in old pirate movies. He trailed after the crew, trying to get an idea where they could be.
They'd headed due west he knew from the position of the sunrise and sunset, so they had to be...Joe skidded to a stop in the loose sand. He stared at the land in the distance. Was that Mexico? He blinked, realizing it had to be. But the natives hadn't been cannibals, had they? He tried to remember his history. The Aztecs were living there now, weren't they? Or was it the Mayans? With a sigh, he wished he'd paid more attention in his history classes.
Shouts distracted him and he turned to see that the bulk of the crew had left him to wonder and wander on his own. He followed the noise and found them, noticing two members of the crew were digging up sand. From what he could tell, there was no X-marks-the-spot but he did see that two palm trees crossed each other a few feet away.
The two crewmembers digging, had only removed a foot of sand before the metal blade of a shovel thunked against wood. Several more joined in to get the sand out of the way, to reveal what looked for all the world like a wooden trapdoor.
Jack stepped forward and heaved the trapdoor up, pushing it until it fell back on the sand. Gibbs frowned. "Rum runners," he muttered, "Jack, there might not--"
Jack shook his head and leaned down to look. "Torch," he said to someone and Pintel handed him a stick of wood, lighting the end quickly. Jack thrust the torch inside the hole, looked around and scowled. "Nothing."
Elizabeth sighed. "You brought us all the way to God knows where for nothing?"
Jack grimaced at her and then jumped into the hole. Will surged forward. "Jack!"
Gibbs flung out an arm and stopped Will. "Let him go, lad. He has to see for himself."
The crew stood around the hole, deathly quiet, barely breathing. Sounds came from the hole--grunts, several sneezes--and then Jack's voice drifting eerily out of the ground. "A hand would be much appreciated."
Will stepped forward, thinking Jack needed help out but when he looked down, Jack was nowhere to be seen. "Jack?"
"Back here."
Will leaned forward and thought he saw a faint glow from Jack's torch. "Back where?"
"Back here." There was a scuffling sound and Jack appeared in the dimness. "Can't carry it all by me onesies. Come along."
Before Will could ask, Jack had disappeared again. Will gave a shrug and jumped into the hole. There was the sound of something heavy being dragged mixed with more grunts. A few moments later, Jack's voice drifted up to the crew. "Ropes, men, we've got to heave this chest out of here!"
The crew cheered, realizing treasure had been found. Several of them raced for the boat to grab the ropes they'd brought. Joe volunteered to jump down into the hole to loop the ropes around the chest. The hard part was hefting the chest out of the hole.
It was dark when the crew, six men each holding onto one of the ropes, heaved the chest high enough to pull it onto level ground. The men dropped where they stood, breathing heavily and soaked with sweat in the humid air.
Gibbs helped Jack out. Will and Joe came out a moment later. Jack brushed dust and cobwebs off his clothes. "Light a fire, men. We need light to see our prize this night."
Pintel and Ragetti went off in search of driftwood as Jack crouched down to study the chest. There was an ancient metal lock keeping the chest closed. Jack grunted. "I need a pick-axe. That should snap it open."
"Why not just pick it?" asked Joe, without thinking.
Jack slowly looked over at him. "Hmm?"
"Pick the lock," said Joe, realizing he'd already said too much, no point in clamming up now.
Jack stood up and walked over to him, one eyebrow cocked. "And how, pray tell, does one do that?"
Joe sighed. "I need something metal..." He eyed the lock for a moment. "About four inches long, with a bent tip if possible."
Gibbs held up a marlinspike. "Would this do?"
Joe started to say no but then he studied the lock again. It was roughly heart-shaped, about four inches across at it's widest. The keyhole was nearly an inch long. "It might, let me see." He crouched down and worked the tip of the marlinspike into the keyhole. Carefully, he probed the inner workings of the lock, hoping the inside wasn't stiff with rust. After nearly two minutes, he felt the click and the lock sprang open.
Jack gave Joe a long look. "How did you do that?"
Joe gave an embarrassed laugh. "Something I picked up."
"Mighty handy, that," said Jack, his dark eyes speculative. "I'd not mind learning that trick." He crouched down again and removed the lock. Slowly, he lifted the lid of the chest.
In the firelight, gems glittered and gold shone. Jack pushed the lid until it fell back against its creaking hinges. Joe saw it wasn't just gold coins and loose gems though. There were carved statues, what looked like parchment scrolls and several other things. Jack picked up a small pottery jar. Instead of a lid, a metal rod fit snugly in the small mouth of the jar. Jack yanked on the rod and he pulled out an odd contraption, that smelled mustily of grapes. "Hmm."
He started to toss it aside but Joe held out a hand. "May I see?"
Jack shrugged and handed the small jar to Joe. Joe pulled the rod out and using the dim light, tried to peer inside. There was the faint greenish patina common to copper and from the looks of the rod stopper, it was iron. He wondered what it did.
Jack picked up the scrolls and frowned. He handed the scrolls to the other closest person. "Take that."
Anamaria looked down at the scrolls in her hands and frowned. She passed them to Gibbs who promptly passed them to Elizabeth. Elizabeth arched an eyebrow at Gibbs and tossed the parchment rolls onto the sand. But only a moment later, curiosity overwhelmed her and she snatched one up to see what it said.
Jack picked up another object that looked to Joe like a cross between a gravy boat and a squat elongated teapot. It was metal, looked to be brass. Jack grunted again and handed it off. It too ended up with Elizabeth.
Jack dug through the coins and loose gems, spilling them onto the sand. The crew, their eyes aglow with avarice snatched up what had fallen out. Jack pulled out another object the size of a man's fist. Joe saw it was a perfect rendition of a skull--carved from crystal.
"This is Latin," said Elizabeth in a huff. "I can't read it."
Gibbs picked one up and unrolled it. "What's this in?"
Elizabeth skimmed the strange writing and frowned. "It looks strangely familiar but I'm not sure."
Joe turned to see and recognized the shape of the symbols. "That's Hebrew." When all eyes focused on him, he shrugged. "It's not like I can read it. I just know what it looks like."
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. "My father has a friend. He's a scholar, he might be able to translate these."
Jack frowned. "They're naught but bits of paper, not worth much."
Joe eyed the scrolls, wondering what they could possibly tell them. He felt a strong urge to make sure the scrolls weren't destroyed. "What if they tell of other, more fantastic treasures just waiting to be found."
Jack thought about it for a moment and then shrugged. "We'll see what they say." He kept digging through the contents, finally pulling out a sword and scabbard. The scabbard was plain and utilitarian. Jack pulled on the leather-wrapped handle and withdrew a gleaming silver sword. A brass guard protected the hilt and the swordsman's hand. It fluidly arched from the tang to the base of the hilt. Something was etched onto the blade but Joe couldn't make out what.
Jack slid the sword back into its scabbard and gazed around, as if looking for something. Then he tossed scabbard and sword to Joe. Joe nearly dropped the pottery jar, trying to grab the scabbard without getting hit in the head with it. "What do you want me to do with it?"
"If you're going to sail with me, ye'll need to know how to fight."
Joe opened his mouth to protest, sincerely hoping he wouldn't be here long enough to warrant learning how to swordfight. He flashed back to all the razzing he'd given his brother about fencing and groaned inwardly. Talk about having to eat my words, he thought morosely.
Jack stood up and slammed the lid on the chest closed. "All right, you scallywags, we have to get this back to the Black Pearl. Once there, I'll divvy out your shares. Fair enough?"
The crew nodded. "Fair enough, Captain."
No one was all that cheered though at the prospect of having to drag or carry the heavy chest all the way to shore. Joe came up with the idea of a sled, which made it easier to slide the chest across the sand. Jack eyed Joe for a moment and then led the way back to the beach. The crew loaded the chest in one of the boats and they headed back to the ship.
It was another back-breaking twenty minutes to haul the chest up on deck but once it was there, the crew was able to relax. Joe looked down at his scraped palms. He'd forgotten how much rope burns hurt. Anamaria noticed and nodded to him. "I have some balm for that. It's greasy and stinks, but it'll keep those from festering."
"Thanks."
She nodded and disappeared below deck. Joe watched the crew crowd around the chest, pausing to touch a gem or let a handful of coins spill through their fingers. Anamaria returned with a pottery jar. "Here. Make sure you use it on both hands but only when you're not doing anything else. It's nasty stuff, stinks for quite awhile."
Joe nodded and wandered off toward the stern to rub some of the balm on his hands. When he pulled the stopper, he realized she'd been right. The stuff did stink, smelled like sour milk or something. He gingerly rubbed his palms with it and was surprised when the pain faded away.
He heard footsteps and saw Will walking towards him. "Mind if I test the blade?"
Joe blinked, having nearly forgotten about the sword. "Oh, sure."
Will picked up the scabbard and studied it, and then finally pulled the sword out. "Hmmm...I could be wrong but...I think this is Damascus steel." He nodded to Joe. "Tempered steel. No one knows how its done. This sword could be over a thousand years old, maybe even more."
"A thousand?" Joe stared at the blade, stunned. "Are you sure?"
"Yes. And I can help you learn." Will handed the sword to Joe, hilt first. "You always hand over a sword that way."
Joe nodded. "Okay."
"Now heft it, see how it feels in your hand. Is it too heavy, too light? Too heavy and you won't be able to wield it effectively. Too light and you can overreach your swing."
Joe thought about how he'd razzed his brother about swords. It was beginning to sound much more complicated than 'et la'. "Okay, um...are we going to learn now?"
Will gave a soft chuckle. "Morning light will come soon enough. Tonight we celebrate Jack's find."
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Disclaimer
The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The authors have just borrowed them for an adventure or two. The authors promise to put the boys back when they are done with them. The authors do claim copyright to the original characters in this story. Please do not borrow original characters without express permission of the authors.