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Treasure in the Earth PartIII

This is the final installment in thethree-part series. The story unfolds with an unexpected twistto the hunt for treasure.

Before Wackerbusch could return to the pitin the morning, Grandfather Henry was there at the break of dawn.He went there both to witness what the digging had discoveredand to retrieve the tool that the boys had left behind in theirfright-induced escape.

But Grandfather Henry also saw what the boys had not seen, namelythe skeletal head. He was only beginning to contemplate this brieflywhen suddenly he heard the sound of birds flapping their wingsand scattering, and then people approaching.

Henry grabbed the pickaxe and slipped away and hid behind a clumpof cocoplum trees. From there he spied two people. Wackerbuschled his wife directly to the hole. He pointed to the skull. ThenHenry could hear him wondering whose pickaxe it was that he hadused. He repeated to his wife that he had used it to dig afterscaring off the trespassers.

Henry waited in his hideout until after the Wackerbusches haddeparted. He was sure they hadn't heard a sound except the chirpingof early-morning birds and the moving of leaves by red-shank crabscrawling to and fro.

Henry had to go to Mr. Spurgeon's hardware shop later that morningto get some barbed wire to mend the fence around his cow pasture.He was almost ready to go to the clerk to pay for his purchasewhen in walked Mr. Wackerbusch.

The new customer took one quick look around and then asked theclerk:"Do you happen to have a pickaxe and a shovel thatI could buy?"

Henry heard him and thought to himself: This is interesting. Ibet I could tell you who's going to do some digging today.

"Sure," answered the clerk, who went to fetch the toolsand returned to the counter with them right away. "You gonnado some gardening around the house, Mr. Wackerbusch?" theclerk queried, wanting to make conversation while making change.

"Well, not exactly," replied Mr. Wackerbusch, "but,you know, little odds and ends that need to be done."

Thinking that perhaps he was on to something rich in this pieceof property which he had purchased cheaply, Mr. Wackerbusch dugfeverishly the rest of that day, using more muscles and sweatingmore drops than he had done in longer than he could remember.He extended the pit several more cubic yards and his wife helpedhim clear the sand from around the skeleton, as well as if theywere seasoned archeologists.

They found nothing unusual, however, or anything indicative ofa treasure, only an intact skeleton and a few buried shells. Asfor the skeleton, they could not tell by looking at it, even asclosely as they did, that any harm had been done to the personwhose bones they were. And knowing that they should inform thegovernment authorities about the skeleton, they determined touncover and discover as much as they could before anybody elsehad a chance to find something valuable on their property.

So they continued to work into the evening and again the nextday, widening the pit around the skeleton as well as extendingits length by several more yards.
Meanwhile, Butchy and the other boys were so impressed by whatthey had experienced that they told not only Grandfather Henry,but other people as well, especially their own young companions.Even Henry didn't keep the thing a secret, and several men passedby the second night after the discovery, always with two or threefriends, so word spread fast about the skeleton. The increasinggossip surrounding the event exaggerated the importance and significanceof it.
Life suddenly became more alive and interesting in the normallysleepy little town. Many people declared that the area of theskeleton was haunted by duppies; others were sure that Wackerbuschhad found a treasure.

Wackerbusch, however, found no treasure. After three days of throwinga pickaxe into sand and shovelling sand into heaps, he startedwondering aloud if that elusive, imaginary treasure was worthall the work they were putting into it. His muscles were now aching.Discouragement set in, and doubts, and patience started to wearthin, and the Wackerbusches became aware that people in the townwere talking about their digging.

"And won't we seem like fools," Mr. Wackerbusch complainedto his wife after a while, "if we continue all this diggingand shovelling and in the end find nothing except this dead skeletonhere?"

"Well, we could always say we were excavating to see whatelse we would come across, without specifying what that mightbe," Mrs. Wackerbusch reasoned.
On the third day after the find, two policemen walked by and peepedinto the hole. Next day two other government officials showedup in the afternoon and examined the spot and looked at the skeleton.What would become of their observations and determinations wedo not know, but by the fifth day, Wackerbusch had made up hismind that he would bring his efforts to an end.
Early that afternoon, as the hot sun was beating down hard onthe earth, Butchy and his grandfather walked to Sandy Ground.Mr. Wackerbusch was still digging.

"Afternoon, Mr. Wackerbusch, how you coming along?"Grandfather Henry greeted.

The digger didn't know if it was a friendly, encouraging greetingor a veiled criticism of his efforts. He answered in a matter-of-factway: "Not really coming up with anything else now but sand,but it's soon going to come to an end." He didn't tell themthat he still secretly hoped there was treasure on his property.

Unable to contain his curiosity any longer and keen to know exactlywhat the message was on the old paper which he had discovered,Butchy had gone to his sister the day before and she had decipheredand read the message to him (except that she could only guessat certain words that were missing because the old paper had gotstiff and some pieces had flaked off).

Butchy said nothing to Wackerbusch about the paper and his dreams,but he spoke up and told him:"I think you had treasure onyour land, Mr. Wackerbusch."
The digger raised his eyes under the sweat that was dripping fromhis forehead and looked up at the boy at the edge of the pit."How's that, lad?" he queried, wondering what the boymeant by "had treasure."

Butchy had concluded, after his sister had read the message tohim, that the ironwood tree was the treasure. His great-grandfather,Zariah, had recognized even when he wrote the message many yearspreviously, probably more than half a century before, that theironwood tree was especially valuable. And Grandfather Henry hadconfirmed to Butchy that it was about twice the size of the normalcircumference of an average ironwood tree and much taller.

His grandfather had gone on to tell him about the importance ofthe ironwood tree in supplying posts for the foundations and framesof the island's houses, and how the architectural style of thosesame houses eventually became known as the typically characteristicstyle of the island homes.

Although not feeling any particular sense of remorse, Wackerbuschwas nevertheless caught short of words, and somehow felt as ifthe boy had cut his wind with a verbal punch. He said nothing,and tried not to betray any emotion, but he had to admit to himselfthat he had destroyed that treasure and got rid of it forever,having chopped its stump to its roots. He even had to admit thathe had actually wasted it, if it was a treasure.

And when Butchy mentioned treasure and land all in one breath,his grandfather felt pricked in his conscience, knowing that hewas the agent that effected the sale of Sandy Ground. Henry feltconvicted again for the second time, actually, for when Butchy'ssister read the message and helped them figure it out, Henry realizedthen that the land was the family's treasure, an heirloom to guardand keep perpetually. That was Grandpa Zariah's will.

On the way home, Henry couldn't help but think that what he andButchy both lacked was the very thing that might have helped him,Henry, know and better appreciate what Zariah had wanted to accomplish.

"Butchy," he said, "we might have lost a treasureor two, but you, at least still have the opportunity to treasureone part of Daddy Zariah's legacy - the ability to read and writeand to make good use of that. And maybe you'll even be able tosay sometimes what he used to say pretty often: "Can't hireme, can't fire me, can't discourage me."

Butchy mentally took up the saying and kept repeating it severaltimes on the way home, as if determined to make it the treasuredmantra of a new and decisive resolve: "Can't hire me, can'tfire me, can't discourage me."

About the Author

Curtis Barnett was born in West Bay. Heattended private and public schools in Grand Cayman before heemigrated to New York with his family shortly before he becamesixteen. He pursued university studies in the United States, Mexicoand Spain and eventually earned his Doctor of Philosophy degreein Hispanic language and literature at Columbia University inNew York.

After teaching high school and college Spanish for several yearsin New York and Minnesota, Dr. Barnett returned to the CaymanIslands, where he is active in the educational, cultural and spirituallife of the community. He enjoys writing, especially poetry andnarrative prose. Dr. Barnett has published a little book of poems,'Something About Us', and a book of short stories and essays,entitled 'Toes in the Sand'.

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