Wound Too Tight

CHAPTER 1

Buried Treasure

There aren’t too many beaches you can go to in Maine where the coastline isn’t littered with rocks and boulders; this is one of the few. The waves rolling in from the ocean, crashing and spraying over the sand and boulders of Maine’s pristine shoreline, as the seawater rushed up and over the rocks, smoothing them down, leaving remnants in little tide pools, and then quickly receded back to the murky depths; only to do it all over again. The rest of the beach was soft, warm sand, however, if you got closer to the shore, it became rockier. That was okay with my friends and me; you see the rocks held some of our greatest adventures and discoveries, even if it was merely pretend. But today, the adventure we had begun in our minds turned out to be more real than anything we’d ever imagined.

With school being out for the summer, and not much going on, my friends and I usually walk on the beach each day hoping to find some sort of treasure. The waves have a way of bringing things in from the ocean bottom, as well as taking out lots of sand, revealing things hidden beneath the soft white powder. A couple of times we found an old coin or a piece of sunken ship, which we quickly took to the town museum and to my Uncle Quincy, the curator. We live in a little fishing village called Taylorsville, where nothing exciting ever happened. It was quiet, the people all very nice, and no one ever caused any trouble. It was so peaceful a person could go crazy from it all. Well, hopefully, after today my five friends and I would shake things up a bit.

The discovery we found today was very exciting, very big, and trapped between several tall, large boulders. No matter how we pulled, tugged, or dug around the edges, it wouldn’t budge. So I elected Bobby and myself to go back to my house, which was very close since it is located right on the beach, and get my dad’s pickaxe and a shovel. Within a few minutes, we got the tools and headed back to our find.

Bobby ran beside me, pumping his short, scrawny legs and trying his best to keep up. His twelve year old stature swayed as he struggled to carry the pickaxe; it was almost as long as he was tall, which wasn’t much at five feet. He brushed his sandy blonde hair out of his eyes, and scrunched up his freckled nose as we plodded down the beach with the warm, soft sand swallowing our feet with every step. I didn’t mind the walk and took a deep breath, letting the ocean breeze fill my lungs and welcome the sun’s warmth on my skin. I couldn’t help it; I love being on the beach with my friends; exploring rock formations, sand dunes and scouring the beach.

Shawn, I still can’t believe we actually found something, Bobby panted, breaking into my thoughts and bringing my attention back to what we were doing.

Me too. I told you the stories were true. We’re lucky my dad let us use these tools. The guys are going to be totally psyched, I said.

We trotted up a steep, sandy slope leading to the rocky shoreline. I stopped and shaded my eyes, trying hard to make out the figures of the other four boys of our group, which we had left to guard our prize.

There they are, Bobby said, spotting Carl’s shape from the distance. Carl was a great friend. His bulk sometimes got in the way and made him clumsy, but his height and weight came in handy when there was a job to do.

Do you think they were able to move it since we’ve been gone? I asked as we broke into a slow trot.

Are you kidding, not the way it’s wedged between those rocks. Besides, the wet sand is like cement. It’ll take the muscles of all of us to loosen it, Bobby said.

Bobby really knew how to exaggerate. Two years younger than the rest of us, he always tried to talk and act tough. I guess he felt he had to in order to fit in, not that we ever made him feel left out in any way.

Come on, let’s get going, I said, concealing a grin and rolling my eyes.

We ran the rest of the way, fighting the soft sand as it seeped into our tennis shoes. We could hear whoops of excitement growing louder the closer we got.

Shawn! Hurry up! Rick called to us, waving and jumping up and down. His smile gleamed brightly against his dark, Hispanic skin and his overly long bangs flopped in his eyes as he continued his spastic dance.

Once we got to our destination, Bobby pushed ahead of me, carefully picking his way along the wet rocks. Wow! He exclaimed, sliding over a slippery boulder and making his way next to Carl. My curiosity heightened, I quickly took the same path to see what was going on.

Oh, my gosh, I whispered, as I stared at the sight before us.

A hush instantly fell over our small band as we stared down at the objects lodged into the wet sand. Our mouths gapped open at the sight of four chests; bound together, with the locks broken, and the lids wide open, revealing a bounty of gold coins, jewelry, pistols encrusted in silver, and vases and cups of different sizes made of gold and jewels. When Bobby and I first left the guys we had only found one chest, I was shocked they uncovered three more and were able to pry them open.

Our gazes shifted from one to the other, either smiling nervously or staring with blank expressions. I suspected that all six of us were wondering what to do with this stuff. Should we keep it? Should we take it to the museum? Should we vow secrecy? Would greed and mistrust affect our friendship? Well, it did in old scary movies that I’d seen with timeless tales of treasure, greed, and a horrible fate. Living so close to the ocean in a fishing village had taken its toll on our minds. All six of us had grown up hearing stories about our small town of Taylorsville and the pirates that use to frequent its shores.

My mind raced through several different stories I had heard, passed along from one generation to the next, until I decided on a tale that I felt fit our situation. Whether it was an imaginary tale or the absolute truth didn’t matter anymore. We had uncovered something big, something so amazing that we weren’t sure if anyone would believe us. I knew I wasn’t too sure if I wanted anyone else to know about our discovery, as for the other guys...well, I couldn’t quite figure out what they were thinking.

I looked at each of them, searching their faces and watching their body language. My mom always said you could tell how a person really felt by watching the things they did with their arms, hands, they way the stood or sat, you know, body language, only how much body language could a bunch of fourteen-year olds display?

Carl was standing next to me, wringing his chubby hands together and his cheeks started to get very pink and flustered. I could tell he was scared, or nervous, or both. Then I looked at Steve, whom everybody said looked a lot like me. He was tall, slim, athletically built and had short, wavy brown hair. Unlike me, Steve was a bossy know-it-all, where I was more quiet and laid back. He was standing very close to the chests with his arms folded across his chest, which told me he was keeping his thoughts to himself. Steve adjusted his weight from one leg to the other, while looking over at our friend Jay. Jay was short, semi-muscular and had permed his kinky hair into soft ringlets that hung in his eyes. He often twisted them when he was nervous and this was one of those times. All of a sudden Rick launched into a scratching fit and started leaving scratch marks all over his tanned legs. When he was nervous he got the ‘itches’, accompanied by a constant smile. Bobby, the youngest and smallest of the group, knelt down and gingerly touched our prize.

Well, what do you want to do now? He asked, breaking the silence.

All eyes instantly turned toward me. I raked my fingers through my wavy, brown hair and exchanged glances with each of the guys.

What? I asked, Why do I have to make all the decisions?

Come on, Shawn. Your family practically runs the whole town and you know everybody, Steve said, gesturing with his hand toward the mainland.

That still doesn’t answer the question, I came back defensively. I hated when he suggested that just because my parents were well known and on the town committee for shoreline and oceanic development that meant everything they said or did was the law.

"Sure it does.