Chapter 18
The bright overhead light illuminates a room packed with boxes, crates, and old chests. Like old, with ornate carvings decorating the lids.
I spy what looks like a family crest, as well as plastic containers filled with old ledgers or leather-bound notebooks.
I press a hand over my heart. I hadn’t expected to see much in this room. It’s a shocking sight. It’s more than surprising. It’s like someone opened a door to a magical world.
On the far wall is a map.
“Is that St. Nicholas?” I ask.
“Yes, and surrounding islands.”
I point at No Man’s Land. “I can tell. This is amazing. Like walking into a time vault.”
I step forward carefully so my hip doesn’t bump any boxes and topple them.
“What is all of this?”
“Family stuff,” he says.
“It looks like a museum. In your house. Does Mrs. Harris know about this?” I wag a finger at him. “She’d love to see this.”
“You said you wanted something to do. And you enjoyed your work at the museum. Maybe you could . . . .”
“Yes!” I shout. I spin and throw my arms around his neck. “Yes, yes, yes!”
A smile stretches across his face. “Okay.”
“Oh, my goodness. I feel like Beauty.”
“Who?” He scratches his head.
“When the Beast gave her the perfect gift.”
At his puzzled expression, I put my hands on my hips. “The library?”
No sign of understanding. I sigh.
“Never mind. This is perfect. Is it really for me? When can I start? What do you want me to do exactly?”
I’m so excited I’m rattling off questions without giving him a chance to respond.
“Who gave you all this?” I side-eye him. “How long has it been here?”
He presses both hands to either side of my face.
“Baby, it’s all yours. My grandmother left it to me when she died. It’s the Kips’ family heritage. It’s been here ever since. I don’t think Mrs. Harris knows. But I thought one day I’d go through it all and give anything of historical value to the museum.”
“Amazing,” I say, spinning around in the small cleared-out path between the chests.
“There’s more,” he says slowly. He turns the large map over.
I peer closely at what appears to be a rough-cut map drawn on burlap, linen, or another cloth. Red handwriting lines the sides of it.
“Whoa!”
“Okay, don’t get too excited.”
“Too late,” I murmur.
“This is a treasure map my father and grandfather used to search for the Kipson treasure.”
“WHAT!”
“Calm down. I don’t want you to search for it. My father died doing just that. I wanted you to know. In case you came across anything connected to the treasure.”
“Is it pirate treasure?” I feel my heart racing a million miles per hour.
He sighs. “The story passed down in my family is that many years ago, the man they called the Black Pirate King of the Caribbean was my ancestor. His name was Kipson. He lived in the late 1700s to early 1800s.”
“Yes?” I modify my excitement so I can pay attention. It’s not every day the man you love says, “Hey, I got a pirate treasure out there.”
“Anyway,” Keston says with serious eyes, “Kipson’s son grew up on the pirate boat with his father. When he was an adult, he came to St. Nicholas and bought land. A lot of it.” Keston indicates outside to the beach and forest.
“But because he was . . . a pirate’s son, or because he was of a mixed race, he wasn’t allowed to buy the land. But . . . “
I suck my teeth.
“He got a woman who was high up in the island government to purchase it for him, and she then granted him the deeds for all of this.”
“Hihg up?”
“She was married to the Governor.”
“Why would she do that for him?”
Keston shrugs. “I don’t know if it’s true. The story is that he was her son.”
I plop down on the dusty floor. “You have got to be kidding me. Do you mean Alex’s story is true? It’s not a myth. The Scottish princess loved the Black Pirate of the Caribbean?”
“I think she was just a noblewoman. The story grew and turned her into a princess. You know how rumors start.”
“What does all that have to do with a pirate treasure?”
He leans against the door and crosses his arms. “In one of the journals,” he indicates the boxes and chests, “there is mention of two treasures. One is hidden in plain sight ‘with all the beauty man could want.’” He looks shy. “I’m quoting it.”
“Go on.”
“I think that treasure is this land. This property goes on farther than you can see. Down the beach with fruit trees, a river, and a waterfall.”
I blink. And he doesn’t have a clothes dryer?
A long silence passes. Keston’s eyes grow shiny.
“You don’t have to tell me.” I stand up and hug him. “It’s okay.”
My inner voice is howling, “What the fuck! We want to know!”
“He wipes a corner of his eye. I lay my head on his chest.
His large hand strokes my hair. “The other treasure is still out there. It’s hidden ‘where joy and sorrow live side by side.’”
“Are you quoting again?”
“Yes. My father was obsessed with finding it. We’re land rich but basically poor in terms of . . . money. He wanted to fix that.”
“Why not sell your land or some of it?” I ask the obvious question.
He leans back and scowls. “No. My ancestors bought this with their blood, sweat, and tears. Kipson had to escape slavery, become a pirate king, and do God knows what else. And who knows what his son endured. Our family will never sell it. To have a developer build condos or a hotel? No thanks.”
“Got it.” I’ve never heard Keston speak so passionately about anything other than me.
“You never have to sell your land,” I promise him. I swear an oath to myself that I will uphold that vow.
“So, what now? I’m happy to organize it. Inventory the books and artifacts.”
He straightens up. “Thank you. It would be very useful to me and the whole island.”
I laugh. “Nice. So, can I at least think about the hidden treasure? Imagine what fresh eyes might do with old clues.”
“Oh no,” he smack his forehead. “Not you, too.”
I kiss his lips. “You are my treasure,” I whisper.
“That’s better.”
“But imagine if . . .”
I’m already imagining all the stuff we could do. Expand the house. Buy an SUV to traverse the rough roads. Travel to New York to see my daughter a lot. Open Keston’s dream bar.
“You’re already spending that pirate treasure in your mind, aren’t you,” he teases.
I gulp. “Maybe,” I squeak out.
He pulls me close to his chest. Wraps both of his muscled arms around me and looks into my eyes. “Do you think this will give you something to do? For a while? So you won’t leave me?”
I nod vigorously. “Oh, definitely. Especially if I find more clues to the hidden treasure.”
He snorts. “Don’t start.”