Buried Secrets at Louisbourg

by Jo Ann Yhard

  “We’ll go straight up to the museum and then around the back of the fortress to the bastion,” he said. “That circles the outside of the town. If the giant still has our campsite under surveillance from the same spot, we should miss him.”

  “So, who is he?” Mai asked. “I mean, he knows your dad, right? Why are we hiding from him? Other than because he’s gigantic and scary looking?”

  “Ummm,” Fred stalled. What could he say, really? It was only a hunch, after all. He didn’t know for sure his dad had hooked up with a criminal.

  “Fred,” Mai said. “You have to tell us—what’s going on?”

  “Yeah,” Grace said. “Seriously, it’s bad enough we’re trying to stay away from Gerard the psycho soldier, and now we’ve got another stalker?”

  Fred studied the faces of his two best friends. They looked a bit…scared. Even Grace. What would they think about his dad’s meeting with the giant the night before? Would they find the conversation as suspicious as he did? But they’d already found out so much about Fred’s life—too much. Besides, he could be totally off base. “I don’t know,” he said, “just a feeling.”

  “A feeling?” Jeeter asked. “That’s it? Now you’re psychic?”

  “Psychic? Awesome. Tell me my future,” Grace said. She held her finger to her forehead. “Wait, I’m getting something. Yeah…I see bags of money. No…make that a room full of money…and jewels…”

  “I told you, no sharing.”

  “Funny Freddo,” Grace said. “Three ways—I’m not kidding.”

  Fred stormed ahead on the dirt path that bordered the left side of town, up toward the museum. Grace got on his nerves sometimes. As if he was going to share. The money from the jewels was for something really important. Life-or-death important. He just hoped it was enough.

  Chapter 12

  The dirt from the dry road churned in mini dust devils as they walked up the low hill. Tiny specks of rock bit Fred’s face. He squinted up at the sky. Thick clouds were racing by on fast-forward. A gust of wind from the white-capped sea whistled across the ruins on his left.

  “Ouch! I got dirt in my eye!” Grace said.

  “Here, let me see,” Mai offered. “I’ve got a clean cloth. Jeeter, come stand beside us and block the wind, okay?”

  Wind-blocker Jeeter. Another thing he was better at, just because he was taller. Mai, Grace, and Jeeter huddled together. Fred turned sideways with his back to the trio, the wind, and the sea. The rebuilt town of the Fortress of Louisbourg was laid out below him. The bastion with its tower and multitude of chimneys stood guard to his left, up the steep slope, a dozen soldiers marching toward its front gate.

  Somewhere in the maze of houses, military quarters, and shops below was a way to open his box. To save his family with his ancestor’s treasure. The box! He’d left it well hidden beneath his sleeping bag, thinking it was safe there in case they got frisked or worse by Gerard. Now, doubt filled him. He shouldn’t have let it out of his sight.

  Of course Jeeter chose that second to come over. “So, what’s the plan again, Freddo?”

  “I have to go back to the tent for a second. Be right back.” Fred was already heading back down toward their site.

  “Where are you going?” Mai called. “Fred, wait.”

  “You guys stay here—I’ll only be a minute.”

  That’s when he saw him. Charging up from the town. Headed straight for them. The giant! They hadn’t fooled him after all. His instinct to flee took over. He whirled around. “Run!” he cried.

  “Run?” Mai said. “What’s wrong?”

  Fred shoved her in front of him. “Giant!” he yelled.

  “Eeep!” Mai squealed. She grabbed Grace’s sleeve and the four of them scurried up the slope. Well, as fast as they could with chiselled tree stumps on their feet.

  Fred frantically scoured the landscape. Maybe they could hide in the tall clumps of grass and wildflowers on their right. Were the plants tall enough to hide them if they scooched down?

  Grace stumbled. “Stupid cloggy crap shoes!” she cried.

  “The museum,” Jeeter said, veering left.

  Everyone was panicked. They were like a pack of herbivores being chased by a Tyrannosaurus rex. They tripped up the stone steps after him, the four of them tumbling through the entrance together, a mass of arms and legs. Someone’s clog went flying and sailed through the air.

  Thunk!

  Klunk!

  Plunk!

  It bounced like a skipping rock into the middle of the floor. Fred looked down at his feet. Of course it was his. He unwrapped his arm from around Jeeter’s leg and pulled a wad of Grace’s hair, which was still attached to her head, from his mouth.

  The few nearby tourists had all turned from the displays and were staring. Glass cases lined the walls of the large open room, filled with unearthed artifacts. In the centre was a miniature model of the fortress, fully rebuilt and including the ruins. His shoe had skidded underneath it.

  Fred kept his eyes glued to his shoe as he hobbled toward it like a pirate with a peg leg. Klap. Klap. Klap. His steps with his wooden-clad foot echoed off the high ceiling. He slid his socked foot into the wooden shoe. As he turned around, the unfriendly giant barged through the entry.

  He loomed menacingly, blocking out the light. As strange as Fred and his friends’ clumsy entrance must have been, this new distraction seemed to trump it. In unison, all eyes in the room fixated on him.

  And he was a bewildering sight. With his giant stature, pirate-like dress and unsmiling face, he looked like a larger-than-life cartoon villain. Shadows accentuated his scowl as he glared at Fred.

  “My goodness, whatever is going on here?”

  Fred turned to meet the confused gaze of the archaeologist they’d met on the dig the day before.

  “My avid young archaeologists,” she said. “Causing another ruckus, I see?” Her kind eyes crinkled at the corners.

  “Sorry,” Fred mumbled. “I tripped.”

  Her smile widened as she noticed his footwear. “Well, no wonder, with those things on your feet. Come for that visit?”

  Fred stared at her blankly. Visit?

  “Yes, that’s right,” Mai said. She’d scrambled to her feet and was smoothing her tousled hair.

  “Excellent.”

  More light seemed to suddenly fill the room and Fred glanced back toward the doorway. The giant had vanished. What if he went back to their tents? Fred felt sick. He had to get back there. “Um, actually, maybe we could come back later. I just remembered—”

  “Nonsense,” the archaeologist said. “It’s no trouble at all. Come along, I’ll give you a personal tour.”

  Fred looked helplessly back at Mai, Grace, and Jeeter. Grace shrugged. Well, how long could it take? It was only one room, after all.

  How wrong he was. Case by case, they worked their way around the exhibit. Each buckle, halberd top, ice creeper, door handle and belt hook was described in excruciating and boring detail. The handcuff and thumbscrew display barely even caught his attention. And Mai was making it ten times worse with a question every thirty seconds.

  They moved on to another case. Mai’s lips parted. Fred tapped her ankle with the pointy end of his shoe.

  “Ouch,” she whispered, shooting him a dagger look.

  “Stop with the questions. We haven’t got all day!” he hissed back.

  “I can’t help it. They just pop out.”

  “Pop them back in.” He manoeuvred in front of her so he was closest to the archaeologist.

  “And here we are, the last case,” the woman announced with a flourish.

  Finally! Fred pretended to be interested, leaning obediently forward to look in the case. His breath caught. Inside were two boxes just like his. And a bunch of wrought-iron keys.

  “What are these?” he asked, tap
ping the case.

  “Oops, don’t touch the glass,” she chastised. “You mean the boxes?”

  “Yes, do they open?”

  “You are a peculiar young man,” she said, shaking her head. “The torture devices you barely blink at. But metal boxes you’re excited about?”

  “What was inside them?” Fred continued. “Can we take one out? Do those keys fit?”

  “Whoa! Let me think. I’d have to check the records, but I don’t recall any notations that there were objects found inside. I’m not quite sure if the keys even belong to these particular boxes. All of these artifacts were likely found at different locations across the grounds.”

  Fred stared intently at the boxes, trying to memorize every detail. They really did look identical, except the keyholes weren’t filled in. “Could I hold one?”

  “Absolutely not, I’m sorry. That is not permitted.”

  He bit back disappointment. “What about the records? Would they say if the keys came with these boxes and where they were found?”

  She looked at him curiously. “Why on earth would you want to know that?”

  “I, uh…really like…boxes,” he said, feeling a flush creeping into his cheeks.

  “Is that right?” She didn’t look convinced.

  “I thought…” He racked his brain. “Maybe I could write about them for school or something. You know, part of our report.”

  She brightened and shot him a huge smile. “What a fine idea. Anything that gets a student interested is worth a little effort. Even if it’s metal boxes. Give me a moment.”

  She bustled over to a door marked Do Not Enter—Employees Only. She took a key from her pocket, unlocked it, and slipped inside.

  “Geez, Fred, enough with this lame place already,” Grace groaned. “I’m going outside.”

  “Me too,” Jeeter added, following Grace toward the door.

  “What are you up to, Freddo?” Mai asked.

  “One of these keys might fit my box.”

  “But you heard her. You can’t take them out of the case.”

  Fred could feel the excitement rushing through him.

  His fingers twitched, ready to do his bidding. “We’ll see about that.”

  Chapter 13

  “WE’LL SEE ABOUT THAT?” Mai yanked his arm, pulling him around to face her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Reluctantly, he dragged his eyes from the keys in the case. “Just what I said.”

  “You can’t mean…are you saying you’d steal them?” Shocked round eyes stared at him like he was some alien creature.

  He winced. It sounded really bad when she said it out loud. “Of course not.”

  “Whew! You had me worried there for a second.” Mai relaxed her hold.

  “I’m going to return them. So it’s only borrowing, not stealing.”

  “What?”

  “Shh, here she comes,” Fred said.

  The archaeologist re-emerged and carefully closed the door behind her, then locked it. “Well, good news and bad,” she said. “There are records, just not here at the museum.”

  “Oh,” Fred said.

  “Not to worry,” she added. “They were moved over to the records room at the King’s Bastion. I’ll pop over this afternoon and have a look, shall I?”

  “If it’s not too much trouble, uh, Professor…”

  “Just Molly. And it’s no trouble at all.” She grinned and patted his shoulder. “I’m thrilled you’re so interested. And to write a report for your school? Warms my heart!”

  Fred shifted uncomfortably. “Uh, thanks.”

  “That’s what I’m here for.” She waved a casual hand toward the displays. “I should get your school information. If you’re doing a report, the least I can do is let them know what a help you all were. Since we don’t pay volunteers, maybe you’ll get some extra credit from your teacher, especially working on your summer holiday.”

  “I think I wrote it down…” Fred trailed off. Good grief, they’d made up doing a report, and now she wanted to contact his school? Classes didn’t even start for a week. No teacher who knew him would ever believe he was doing a report voluntarily. Mai, yes. Him, definitely not.

  “No.” Molly eyed him expectantly.

  Mai had turned pale. Fred was sure she was going to crack if he didn’t get her out of there right away.

  “I’ll give it to you when we come back,” Fred offered. He’d put in a fake school and phone number if he had to. “When you get the information on the boxes and keys?”

  “Lovely,” she chirped. Her gaze drifted to a family of tourists wandering past the displays. “Excuse me, won’t you? Duty calls.” She hurried off to the opposite end of the room.

  “C’mon, let’s go,” Fred said.

  They walked down the stone steps and paused on the dirt road. No one was in sight.

  The wind had vanished completely. Ominous charcoal clouds hung low and the air was still. It was kind of weird. Like the sky was holding its breath. And where were Grace and Jeeter?

  “Psst!”

  “What?” Mai asked.

  “Wasn’t me,” Fred replied.

  “You and I are the only ones here.”

  “Psst, is he gone?”

  Fred peered across the dirt road at a thick patch of high grass. “Grace?”

  “Yeah, is he gone?”

  “It’s just me and Mai.”

  The grass moved and Jeeter and Grace emerged. “Finally,” Grace said. She stood on the dirt road and shook out her skirt. “I swear a grasshopper climbed up this dumb dress. That wouldn’t happen if I had pants.”

  “Stop complaining. You’d have been in shorts anyways,” Fred said. “What happened?”

  “The giant came back again. We barely had time to dive into the weeds,” Jeeter said.

  At least Molly’s longer-than-long tour had had one benefit. Giant guy had given up, for now. Fred had to get his box.

  “I gotta go back to the tent.”

  Ignoring him, Mai breezed past Fred and walked over to Jeeter. “You’ve got grass in your hair,” she said.

  “I do?” Jeeter lifted his hand toward his head.

  “I’ll get it.” Mai stood on her tiptoes and placed her hand on Jeeter’s shoulder. She reached up and pulled strands of grass free, waving them in front of his face. “See?” she laughed.

  Jeeter smiled down at her. “Thanks.”

  Fred swallowed. “I, uh, gotta go.”

  “We’re coming too,” Grace said. “Safety in numbers, I say.”

  “She’s right,” Jeeter said. “Whatever that guy is after, we have to stick together. Maybe we should look for your dad and find out what’s going on.”

  “Grow some gills and maybe you can,” Fred muttered.

  Jeeter raised his eyebrows. “What are you talking about, Freddo? Did you say gills?”

  “Never mind.” He started walking down the hill.

  “What are you doing?” Grace asked. “We can’t go that way. It’s all in the open—we’ll be sitting ducks!”

  Fred stopped. Much as he hated to admit it, she was right. The road back down the hill was flanked by gravel and short grass. Absolutely no hiding places. They needed cover. Giant guy could come back any second. What about the King’s Bastion at the top of the hill? Lots of people and cover, but it was in the wrong direction.

  The large patch of meadow directly in front of them would hide them for most of the way to the edge of the town. Then there were lots of places to hide as they made their way back to their campsite on the quay. “Okay, I guess you’re right.”

  “What was that?” Grace smirked, her hands on her hips. “Could you say that again? I didn’t hear you.”

  “Oh, stuff it,” Fred grumbled. He waded into the tall grass. Well, not really grass. More l
ike a maze of tall brown stalks with fuzzy, dull-white balls on top, like dandelions. But it did the trick. When he crouched down a bit, the stalks were over his head. Crickets trilled as Fred, Mai, Grace, and Jeeter began to snake through the weeds.

  They inched forward, popping up every few minutes to check for the giant. It seemed like he really had given up on them. Maybe he had already gotten what he wanted from the tent, Fred thought. No! He’d hidden it well. No one would find it.

  But then, who would even be looking for it? No one knew he had it, right? Maybe he was overreacting. He didn’t even know this giant guy. He was probably just being paranoid.

  Something flew into his mouth. “Pllfff!” Fred spat. A swarm of no-see-ums had come out of nowhere and enveloped them in a cloud. The miniature flying pests were everywhere at once. In their mouths. Up their noses. In their ears. They were under attack! Gagging and spitting, they pushed forward through the last of the meadow, their arms waving crazily over their heads at the receding cloud of bugs.

  Pieces of the fuzzy flowers were stuck to their clothes. Fred kicked off the wooden clogs and dumped them out, bits of dirt and plants scattering on the ground. Grace and Jeeter’s complaints were a faded drone in the background.

  He looked up to find Mai staring at him. He recognized that look. Disappointment. She probably thought he was becoming a total criminal. But there was nothing he could do about it right now. Borrowing a bunch of old keys was nothing, really. The box was too important.

  On the lookout for the giant and crazy Gerard, they zigzagged through the streets, from one building and group of tourists to the next. Halfway down the main street, they paused in an arched doorway. The smell of baking apples from inside the building taunted their noses and stomachs.

  “That smells so good,” Grace said. “Let’s go in.”

  “I’m hungry, too,” Mai said, stepping inside. “Come on.”

  Fred’s fists clenched inside his empty pockets. How much did it cost? What difference did it make? He had no money. His stomach rumbled. “You guys go in, I’ll be back.”