“What would you do with a great big treasure?” Lucie asked Mona. 

Besides Nanny, they were the only ones awake.  The pirates and sailors remained in their various chambers. 

“I don’t know,” said Mona.  She had never thought about it before, but it did seem to be something everyone wanted.  “Maybe I could buy a part of the ocean to be all my own, ooh, but that is a very horrible thing to say.”

“Why?” said Lucie.

“Because I know better. The ocean shouldn’t be owned by anyone because it’s the most beautiful,

free thing in the world.”

“Oh,” said Lucie.  “I think I might like some jars to keep my worms and beetles in, for fishing.” 

​

By ten o’clock, everyone was ready.  Both crews and captains, the Hurstons, and the residents of Pearly Beetle were squished into the Leviathan and the lifeboats of the two ships.  Everyone rowed except Prince Edward, although most would not consider what Sicily was doing, rowing.  The boats soon reached the rocky shore of the Dog Barrens. 

Technically, the Dog Barrens was not an island.  Mona attributed the strange fog that hung about the Dog Barrens to that peninsula's thin and flitting strip of attachment to the mainland. 

The attachment hung like some physical remembrance of past indecencies beneath the surface of the water, only forced to light at low tide.  The uselessness of the soil and the decay of the land could not change, it seemed, without separation from old pains and the mainland held the rope that kept afloat those memories.  It would not let go.  Crumbled wood planks, beaded with nails like massive fairy rings, wound around ramshackle, deserted buildings.  Crumbled bricks lay like so many dead soldiers.  The plants were meek, always afraid of the return of the mainlanders.  Chicory, queen of waste places, held her flowers, like warm hands, against the wayward buildings, as if to impart what little comfort there was over their mutual sorrows.

​

Mona looked around and shook her head.  It seemed as though nothing was resilient to the hand of man.  Mona worried for the Blackberry Isles, which though undaunted and unbroken by any deranged rage of nature, could be cut away with an axe in a finite number of strikes.   She hoped, more than anything, that she would never have to go to the mainland. 

Mona shook her head again to clear her head. She tried to forget her surroundings and turned to study the map, reviewing the landmarks of the place in her mind. 

“Mona, dear,” said Nanny, “mightn’t you have mistaken the map?”  Nanny seemed only now to recognize why they had all arrived at their current location, having been completely absorbed that morning in the purchase of two new nets from a traveling fisherman.

​

“No, Nanny, I’m not mistaken.  See, here’s the lighthouse.”

Mona pointed at several scribbles on the map, which after Nanny had looked down her nose and through her spectacles and squinted at twice, still remained scribbles and not a lighthouse to her.  However, Nanny resolutely folded her arms and made up her mind to support what she still considered a mad venture; having previously satisfied herself that her new nets would save much time and increase catch. 

“I see,” said Mona at last.  She pointed north and the others followed her into the fog.  Gradually, as they made their way away from the valley, the fog dispersed, and was replaced by a harsh sort of heat.   The sumac and pokeweed were dull-colored and stooped in the unforgiving sun.  Skinny rabbits flitted through the weeds. 

​

After several turnarounds, Mona pointed to a spot beside a shallow lake.  They begin digging in a row.  It was hard work.  Wallowing around in muck tired everyone and made them irritable.  Sicily slumped against a twisted locust tree and ate the snacks Nanny had packed to help everyone through the hard work.

“Ouch, this island is covered in bloodsuckers,” said Sicily slapping an invisible insect on her ankle.  “It’s so hot.  I bet this is just a big waste of time.” 

Mona sneezed and wiped the sweat from her forehead.  She stood and leaned against her shovel.  Sicily was giving her a headache.

​

“Sicily, there are some thin-stemmed plants with flowers that are orange with little red spots.  If you collect the leaves and rub them on your skin, the bug bites won’t bother you so much and your skin will be soft and beautiful.”

“Plants,” said Sicily.  She snorted.

“I know your bites are bothering you and I don’t know why you wouldn’t want some medicine for them,” said Mona. “I guess you’re just too scared to find the jewelweed.”

“I’ll show you, Mona Burg.  Which way is that plant anyway?” said Sicily.

“Twenty degrees port,” said Mona.  She watched Sicily stalk off in the wrong direction. 

Lucie shook her head.

“Left, Sicily, left.  I thought she’d learned that by now,” Lucie said to herself.  She scratched her head and pulled her hair back from her eyes.  Then the girls continued to dig.  Suddenly, something shone white.

“Lucie, look—” cried Mona.  She fell to her knees and scooped mud.  Manx lumbered down beside her and began to dig with his large paws.  Metal began to emerge.  The party heard the girls excited calls and the others came to help.

​

“Mona dear, you did read the map correctly,” said Nanny as Mona and Lucie lifted the metal box out of the mud and brushed it off.  Nanny’s eyes were open wide and her spectacles enlarged them further. 

The girls jumped out of the trench and sat down to examine the box.  The adults stood behind them and stared over their shoulders.  Prince Edward leaned against Lucie’s knee. 

It was a small, plain metal box with an acorn engraved on the lid.  A chain twisted several times around the box and a lock held it shut. 

“What’s this?  Not another curse I hope,” said the Captain.   He pointed to the acorn.

“Oh, Captain, none of your nonsense,” said Nanny, as she leaned over to inspect the box. “Knowing a curse when you see one, you say?  It’s just the seal of the Crooked Sailor, the founder of Pearly Beetle.” 

​

The crews laughed.  Mona remembered seeing a similar acorn in the corner of the painting of the Crooked Sailor and on some of his old letters and furniture.  Captain Malarkey turned a bit red on his ears. 

“Enuff o’ this talk.  Should we open ’em already?” growled the Captain.

The party grew serious and general affirmation sounded out.  Mona and Lucie handed the box over.  The Captain bent forward and set the box on the ground.  With a spade, he hit the chain and lock several times.  Clank, clank, clank.  The reverberation buzzed in and out of everyone’s ears, until with a final clank, the chain broke off. 

The Captain removed the lid and looked inside.  No one spoke.  Mona held her breath and felt dizzy.  Lucie fidgeted.  Even Nanny seemed interested.  Her eyes grew even wider than they had been when the box was found and her mouth hung open.  It was sometime before the Captain spoke.  Finally, he looked up and smiled. 

​

“’Tis treasure here, but not much.  It should go ta Miss Nanny and Mona.  ’Tis theirs anyway, no doubt.  Rightful and all and we did damage Pearly Beetle.”

“No, no, Captain,” said Mona. “If it is ok with Nanny, I want you to have it.  All of it.” 

“It don’t feel good ta cheat my friends outta money,” said the Captain.  Nanny seemed pleased with the Captain.  She nodded, then shook her head.

“It is up to Mona.  Please take it, Captain.  We don’t need it and you still need to pay your crew.”

“Well, I’ll be thankin’ ya both and the Hurstons.  Well, and the pirates.  Enough here ta pay my crew for their trouble in the West Indies, anyway.  And maybe a bit o’real vacation for each,” said the Captain.  “Aye, but we won’t be rich and all the better ’cause I like bein’ a sailor and won’t retire for nothin’.  Fact, I bet them pirates is awful jealous that they’s already ready to retire and must spend a mighty heavy load o’money a’fore they can go back to needin’ to be pirates.  You louts,” he called cheerfully to those unfortunate, wealthy pirates.

​

At that, the crowd erupted. The strange weather seemed to have momentarily vanished, or at least, they had a happy time despite it. A few even danced around and sang. All had a good time.

As they headed back to the boats, the party took a trail close to the ocean. The fog settled in on them again, seeming to add an extra weight with each step.

When they reached the boats, Nanny looked around at the mud-spattered company. She insisted everyone go for a swim in the ocean to wash off the muck. No one was opposed.

The swim seemed to lift everyone’s spirits. Pirates, sailors, girls, Prince Edward, and Mr. Hurston splashed each other and contested who could hold their breath and tread water longest. It was late afternoon before the group returned to Pearly Beetle.

​

Men, women, girls, and one small boy were tired from their days work. Everyone ate lunch together. Then, the crews headed to their quarters for idle card games or other activities of relaxation. Mona and Lucie sat together on the window seat in the kitchen and Manx curled at their feet. Captain Malarkey settled on a stool nearby and drew string into a cat’s cradle to both girls’ delight. Nanny thumbed through her cookbook. Prince Edward took a nap on the on the kitchen rug. 

They all stirred at the sudden bang of the front door.  Mr. Hurston had returned from depositing the tools.  He entered the kitchen.

“Has anyone seen Sicily?”  he asked. 

​

​