CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Landing mid-morning, Jeremy and Emilie rushed from the gate to the rental car area. The sky overhead was vivid blue, with white clouds slowly floating with the wind. It looked too perfect to be real. Emilie reflected of how ideas were as vague as clouds, unable to be touched, but there just the same. Just like this curse that followed her lineage, it was invisible but so real.
The humidity brought a heavy feeling that slowed their every movement. They found the car, set the GPS, and Jeremy wasted no time driving to the Fort Caroline National Memorial. They visited the park, hoping to get a sense of the Timucua tribe and of what their lives and landscape had looked like in 1565. The park made a good attempt to show the history surrounding the St John River and the events involving the French Huguenots and the Spanish, but after half an hour, Jeremy and Emilie decided to move on.
The best place to begin a physical search for the burial remains of Saturiwa turned out to be Big Talbot Island State Park, according to the reverse mapping Jeremy had done. It was their best hope.
Back in the car, Jeremy drove east on Heckscher Drive toward the reserve. They enjoyed the warm moist heat of the late morning. It was impossible to be anything but positive here, the waterway views along the route and the vivid blue of the sky created a surreal setting. A feeling of peacefulness overtook Emilie. She had never felt so free, with nothing tugging at her emotions. All she sensed here were her own thoughts.
Is this what heaven is like? she wondered. Unhindered, she dreamed of her newfound happiness with Jeremy; her spirit filled with an uplifting optimism. A sensation filled her soul, like sunshine reaching the corners of a cellar after the doors had been opened to the outside air.
They arrived at the reserve. Jeremy parked and grabbed a backpack that held some needed gear from the trunk. He hurried, anxious to get going with the search. They rented a kayak. Jeremy helped Emilie into the boat and they began paddling their way through the streams and wetlands. They looked for anything resembling the landscape markers mentioned in the journal.
They lifted the oars in smooth rotations, and propelled themselves across the mirrored surface of the water, moving the kayak forward in sync with each stroke. Enjoying the tranquility of the day, comfortable in the silence, they floated downstream. Watching the sun’s reflection on the water was a calming experience. The small ripples of water sent echoes of reflected light out to the extruding bank’s foliage.
They assumed Bone Yard Beach was the line of oak and pine trees written of in the journal, it fit, considering the years of erosion. The older trees were weathered, taking on the look of bones bleached from the sun and salt. So far, they were confident in their direction. They paddled south past Horseshoe Creek and into the Sister’s Creek area, looking for anything that might be a sign. A line of old oaks edged along the western marsh banks, their limbs bending with the breeze and their leaves gently rattling a soothing jingle. So many birds nested here along the banks, blue herons and egret fishing in the shallow waters.
For the first time in a long while, Emilie was comfortable inside herself, without being bombarded with unwanted emotions that belonged to others. Even though the day’s heat was almost at its peak, the breeze off the water made it all seem comfortable and dreamlike.
Emilie spied a white ibis not too far from the other birds. She watched amazed as it carefully regarded the other birds, making sure they kept their distance. He was like Emilie, a solitary soul. Most of the birds took no notice of her and Jeremy as they paddled by, indifferent to human disturbance with so many fishermen coming to these waters. Jeremy pointed to the east bank.
Emilie’s attention turned in that direction, her excitement for the chase returned. She noticed the small area of high ground that Jeremy had indicated. They paddled their way across and looked for an open spot along the shoreline. It was marshy, and what appeared to be ground was not fit to stand on, in most cases. They laughed as they clumsily maneuvered the kayak and tried to find a spot to park. Finally, they found an area worth docking.
Emilie tried to stand first, but sank into the muck. She watched as her boots disappeared, her feet swamped with mud. She pulled them out of the sludge, making a sucking noise as the pressure released. She fell back into the boat and they paddled the kayak to the next open spot. This time Jeremy tried, and narrowly escaped falling completely into the marsh waters but was saved as Emilie pulled him back toward the boat. She laughed while pulling him up, helping him steady himself. Finally, on the third try, they managed to find a small patch of solid ground, and pulled the kayak out of the water, laughing together at their clumsiness.
“Let’s not try that again.” Emilie said.
Jeremy’s face turned red, but he laughed aloud too.
“I owe you a pair of boots,” he said.
Looking around at their surroundings, the foliage consisted of mostly old oaks with some scrap palms. The soil underneath their feet became more solid as they moved toward the center of the small island, until they reached a clump of trees dead center. Here, hidden away from all of humanity and the race of everyday life, stood a pile of hardened shells, covered with creeping weeds. They had discovered a midden.
“Jeremy, do you realize what this is? I can’t believe it’s really here!”
Emilie was excited, but also concerned. She wondered if they were doing the right thing by destroying a midden. It was a substantial anthropological find. Land developers in Florida had destroyed middens in the past, without thinking of the implications. Many roads, railroads, and homes had been built at history’s expense. Emilie knew they should do the proper thing to maintain the site’s integrity, but they had no choice. They were no better than the previous pillagers.
“First things first, let’s determine if this is the spot we are looking for,” Jeremy said.
“I hope this is it. It would be awful if we destroyed the midden for nothing,” she said.
“Emilie, I really feel we have a chance. We did the research. Either the bones are here or they aren’t, let’s just look. We can always contact the authorities later so they can properly excavate the remaining site. For now, we’ll be as careful as possible and work our way down one side only, the way they usually do it, to see a slice of the midden, okay? I promise to preserve the integrity of the site, just in case we’re wrong.”
“Okay, I’m with you. Let’s do it. We really don’t have a choice if we want to end the curse.”
They set straight to work, hoping they were uncovering the right bones.
The two of them dug for the rest of the afternoon, silently concentrating on the work. They had hand tools with them, including various-sized trowels, picks, and bone brushes, to use to uncover the mound. The midden they’d found was small, and most of the ground underneath the creeping foliage consisted of hardened shells that formed a tight cement-like bond. It was difficult work as they carefully chipped away.
Something in the nearby foliage grabbed Jeremy’s attention. Emilie watched him as he broke away from his work. He looked like an excited little boy as he reached over and picked up whatever it was on the ground that had caught his eye. Using a bristle brush, he worked on the thing in his hand, dusted it, and then rubbed it with a Bergeon polishing cloth that he pulled from his pocket. He whistled to himself. She smiled while watching him, curious but unwilling to interrupt his magic mood.
“Emilie, close your eyes a minute,” he said
She stopped working to appease him, curious about his playfulness, and closed her eyes.
“Okay, now open your hands,” he said.
She did. Jeremy dropped something into her hands.
“Open your eyes.”
A small, perfect spiral shell, smoothed and shined, lay on her glove.
She looked up, Jeremy beamed. Emilie started to cry. He looked confused.
“What’s the matter? Is something wrong?” he said.
Emilie shook her head. “I think it’s so beautiful, and you make me s
o happy.”
She reached up for Jeremy and hugged him. This small token touched her so deeply, and she knew that right now, with him, she was the happiest she had ever been. “Thank you.”
She took off her glove and wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m not crying, not really. It’s just that I think you’re so sweet. I love you and your tenderness,” she said.
Jeremy smiled. “I’ll have to remember what a red spiral giant eastern murex does for you in the future.”
He laughed in a low soft voice. His face was burnt from the sun and hid his blushing, but Emilie felt his warmth anyway. She put the shell in her pocket and hoped to feel this ember of love always. She pecked a kiss on his cheek, and they got back to their task.
Working for hours in silence, they carefully excavated. They scraped away the hardened ground until the reward underneath was revealed. The bones that had been lying there for centuries, hidden from the world, were finally exposed.
“There’s only one person buried here. With only one set of remains, it stands to reason they belong to Saturiwa. Only a chief was allowed their own private burial midden,” Jeremy said.
He examined the bones. “Based on the indicators I remember from years of studying old bones with my uncle, and of course anatomy class, I believe these remains belong to a male. Occasionally I stumble onto old bones when I work, too. Though they usually belong to animals, not a human.”
Emilie wiped her brow, and considered his words. Jeremy was right: this had been a person, a living, breathing person, a long time ago. The entire quest took on a more personal tone for her.
“This skeleton is hardened, so size and bone density can’t be used to determine much, but there are other markers. Look at this sternum,” he pointed to the area. “The longer thorax doesn’t necessarily mean anything, but the pelvis is deep and narrow. The sciatic notch is narrow too, look here.” From the pelvis, he shifted his attention to the skull. ”The external occipital protuberance at the back of the head, here, is larger and more pronounced. These all point to a man.”
She smiled up at Jeremy. “You are a smarty pants,” she teased.
“I wouldn’t go that far, but let’s get back to work. I can’t wait to finish this up.”
Jeremy chipped a bit more away, looking for the effigy. Near the bones was a small piece of carved wood, petrified until it was as hard as rock after being in the ground all these years. They took turns with the chisel, and brushed away as much of the packed ground as possible, until it was finally exposed. The primitive design they revealed looked like a carved panther.
“This is it,” Jeremy cried aloud. “We found the grave of Saturiwa and the effigy. This is priceless! My God, I can’t believe we did it, we found it.”
He jumped up and pulled Emilie into a hug. She swam in his happiness until a bird cawed as it flew overhead. It was an omen. They both looked up as it flew away. Emilie’s attention returned to the find. She bent down and touched the panther effigy. Her fingers trembled as she examined the calcified figure, rubbing her fingertip up and down its rough ridges.
She sensed something deep and very old from this artifact. It didn’t frighten her, but instead it revealed an ancient sadness. There was a story being told to her. Tears welled in her eyes as she experienced the sorrow. Her extrasensory intuition told her they were on the right path, and they needed to complete their task. Too many souls were held hostage in the spirit world. They were crying to be released, she heard them in her mind, felt their anguish.
She pulled herself away and looked up at Jeremy. His face was riddled with wrinkles that showed his concern, a question in his eyes.
“I know this panther carving is a treasured relic of their culture, but we need to burn it with the skeleton,” Emilie said. “They’re crying for us to end this limbo. It does have something to do with the ceremonial spell. I hate defacing all this history too, but we need to finish this properly so we end my family’s curse,” she said.
“Emilie, my Uncle Thaddeus searched for historical finds like this his entire life, but even he would approve of burning it, if it meant an ending to his little mystery.”
“Then let’s get this done, before we overthink things.”
Jeremy cleared the rest of the area so nothing else would burn, and soaked the remains and the panther effigy with a special lighter fluid he had made himself, using an acetylene base to create a high burn temperature. He lit a match and ignited the midden. The remains burst into a tall plume of flame, and quickly blazed. The dancing flames were bright blue and white at first, and then a full spectrum of color, like the most wild of sunsets. The salt from the water and sand that had encased the midden all these years gave off a brilliant show, with exquisite shades of yellow and blue. Emilie stepped close to Jeremy and he wrapped his arm around her. Together they watched it burn.
When the blaze died down, a thick smoke began to fill the air with a pungent odor. It was a heavy sweet and earthy trace, like the incense burned in church during a funeral. The scent tugged Emilie’s memories, and she visualized her mother lying dead in her coffin at church. She missed her mother so much, no matter how much time had gone by, the pain was still raw. She figured Jeremy was thinking of his Uncle Thad and feeling the same way.
It was silent, except for the occasional pop from the stones near the fire. The flames withered to a glow, then died down to embers. Deep in somber thought, she reflected on the day, relieved knowing that half their task was accomplished.
“All we need now are marshmallows,” she joked.
“What are you talking about?”
“You know, marshmallows. Toasting them around the campfire. Don’t you do that back in Surrey?” She teased him, hoping to lighten his mood.
“Oh, now I see what you mean. And yes, I have had my share of toasted marshmallows around a campfire, but mostly when I’m here working. Americans as a culture love campsites and marshmallows.”
He laughed and affectionately tightened his grip around her. It worked, and the gravity of the moment was lightened.
“Okay, next stop France, right?” Emilie said. “Let’s get back to civilization, get a room, wash up, and start planning the rest of this curse-breaking mission.”
“Yes, next stop France. But before we leave, I want to pick up these ashes. I promised Father Eddie we would send them to him; he wants them just in case. I’m not sure what that means, but whatever the reason, I promised him.”
“That’s a strange request, but it’s Eddie. Whatever makes him happy.”
Exhausted, Emilie helped to clean up the midden area as much as possible. Jeremy brushed the ash remains into a metal container he had carried in the backpack. They were both covered in sweat, dirt, and soot by the time they headed back to the kayak. It was late, the sun just beginning to set. The sky in the west was splashed with a glorious orange array of color, with peach layers that painted the sky. It was spellbinding. Together they shared a few quiet moments, mesmerized by the scene in front of them. Jeremy pulled her close again.
”I love you, Emilie.”
She reached up and gave him a kiss for a reply. He sighed. Emilie melted and wanted to please him, but took a deep breath instead, and pulled herself out of her fantasy. Best left for later. “We need to get moving before it gets dark. There’s lots of critters here at night,” she said.
Back in the kayak, they paddled as fast as possible, wanting to reach the park’s shore before it was complete darkness.
“There are alligators and snapping turtles in these waters, and they’re more active at night,” Jeremy said.
Emilie wasn’t afraid. Instead, she embraced the evening. “Listen, did you hear that?” she asked.
“It’s fish jumping, their splashes echo,” Jeremy said.
The evening air held more sounds: the occasional branch snapping, a splash as a snakebird landed atop the water, and a rustling sound from a small creature creeping through the underbrush along the nearby shore’s foliage. The cicadas
were a choir in the background that filled the open scape with noise. While she and Jeremy paddled and enjoyed the glorious twilight, they took comfort, sharing this wonderful vista together. It was a spiritual sharing, a harmony between them, and a bond of fate that tied them to each other.
The night sky, a miracle onto itself, just like our new love, Emilie thought.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
They were exhausted by the time they reached the hotel. The first thing Emilie wanted to do was wash up and feel human again. She dropped her things on the floor and headed for the bathroom. “Do you mind if I go first?” she said. She looked over her shoulder and noticed Jeremy was watching her. Realizing she must have looked like a disaster, her face blazed hot with embarrassment.
“No problem. Ladies are always first in my book,” he flirted.
Emilie hurried into the bathroom and closed the door. She leaned against the sink, feeling a bit lightheaded, and hoped that his smile meant something. Why would an amazing man like Jeremy be remotely attracted to me looking like this? Still, she knew he was drawn to her, she felt his attraction, yet he still kept his distance, ever the gentleman.
It was a last-minute find, a hotel near the airport, but to her surprise, it included a newly renovated bathroom. Stripping her filthy clothes, she turned on the water and stepped into the large walk-in shower tiled with marble. She sighed with relief as the waterfall spout rained on her. She washed her hair, enjoying the thick silky lather between her fingers, and then she let the water rinse the dirt away.
The day’s events spun through her head, but she kept skipping back to the vision of Jeremy and his face as he handed her that shell. His eyes, the way they gleamed with warm hazel flecks . . .
Emilie was confused. She wanted him to make love to her tonight, but at the same time, she was uncomfortable pushing him into an intimate relationship before he was ready to commit. The more she thought of him, the more urgent her need became. She kept washing the smooth suds over her body as she imagined his smiling face and his muscled body.
BREAKING CURSED BONDS Page 16
