A Ghostly Twist

by Carla Solomon

  “I have to get back upstairs,” she said and looked straight at Sam. “But I imagine that with all your experience searching for your mom, you won’t have any problems loading and reading the disc.” She started up the stairs, then stopped and looked back. “I’m allowing you access for research only. If you want to print or download anything you need to come back with

  a parent…um…or guardian. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” Rocky said.

  She checked her watch. “I’ll be locking up in eighteen minutes. Once everyone is out, I’ll come back and get you.”

  When he heard the door close, Sam said, “What kind of magic did you use to get her to let us down here?”

  “That’s Southern charm in action, Buddy,” Rocky said.

  “Wow. I’ve heard of it, but never seen it in action. I appreciate how you got her back on track after I exploded,” Sam said.

  “We all have our hot buttons, don’t we,” Rocky said, handing Sam the discs. “Now it’s your turn to work some magic. Didn’t Mr. Henley tell us the shipping company was founded in 1780?” Rocky asked.

  “You were actually listening to him?” Sam asked.

  Rocky grinned. “It wasn’t easy staying awake, but I toughed it out. I figured I needed all the information I could get to help me find the treasure.”

  They located the correct disc and Sam scrolled through the photocopies of the newspapers. The type was hard to read because every “s” looked more like an “f”, but they muddled through ads and stories about heat waves and the building of a new schoolhouse.

  In between the newspapers were pictures of one-page fliers about local events.

  “Here’s something,” Sam said. “H & H Shipping Company Announces Completion of New Ship. And there’s something about christening her the Dragonfly!” Sam pulled out a flash drive from his backpack to download the article while they kept searching.

  They saw an article about President Adams calling on privateers, followed by an article stating H & H Shipping donated the Dragonfly for a mission.

  “This is all interesting,” Rocky said, checking the clock on the wall, “But we already know all this. What about the shipwreck? Look ahead to August 1799. ”

  “You remember the date of the shipwreck too?” Sam asked, surprised again at Rocky’s memory.

  “I remember it was August 16, 1799,” Rocky said. “I know ‘cause come this Friday people will have been looking for the ship for 200 years.”

  Sam quickly scrolled through the early days of August then slowed down. “This could be it, ‘On August 16, 1799…”

  “Whoa,” Rocky said, looking up the stairs. “Mrs. Madison should be coming back any minute.”

  “Right. I’ll copy this and keep looking for something about

  the brothers’ deaths. Mrs. Madison said they both died shortly after the shipwreck.”

  “Okay, but be quick,” Rocky said. “I think I hear her coming.”

  Sam found an editorial titled, Safe Harbor Mourns Loss of Men and Ship. The whole newspaper looked as if it had been folded and unfolded so many times that the words were broken and missing. Sam was downloading an article about Henry when he heard the door at the top of the stairs open.

  “Hurry up!” Rocky whispered urgently. “She’s halfway down and we’re not supposed to be downloading anything. And we’re supposed to be looking up family stuff, not stuff about the shipwreck.”

  “Maybe I missed something,” Sam mumbled to himself. He scrolled back towards the shipwreck article, straining to read the old fashioned type on the faded and damaged paper. “Aha!” Sam said, highlighting one of the pages and downloading another image.

  “Are you done?” Rocky asked, turning his head back and forth between Sam and the stairs.

  “These files are big and this computer is slow so they’re taking a long time to download,” Sam said.

  “Can’t you just work some of that techno-magic of yours? I don’t want to get caught looking at the wrong stuff,” Rocky said.

  Rocky was right. He was running out of time. Sam had counted 12 steps on the way down and Mrs. Madison was on number 10.

  Chapter 8

  Rocky stared at Sam, his eyes wide. Sam held up one finger and Rocky stepped in front of Mrs. Madison, blocking her view of Sam.

  “Ma’am, we can’t thank you enough for allowing us to view this information. Have you been the one transferring the data to the discs? I imagine it’s quite difficult.”

  “Yes, it does take a bit of skill not to damage the papers when they’re so old and brittle,” she said starting to walk towards Sam.

  “I trust you found some information that would help you.”

  By the time Mrs. Madison made it over to Sam an article about orphans filled the screen.

  “This paragraph here, is especially powerful,” Sam said, trying to charm her with a smile.

  Instead of charming her, Sam’s smile had the opposite effect. She took a step back and Rocky made cutting motions across

  his throat.

  Sam immediately looked back at the screen, fumbling over his words. “Well, it, um, describes a-a Mr. and Mrs. Wellbottom taking in all three of these children after their father was lost at sea. They wanted to keep them together as a family.” Sam peeked back at Mrs. Madison and was relieved to find her shocked expression was gone. So much for his first attempt at Southern charm.

  Mrs. Madison nodded knowingly. “People back then took care of each other,” she said.

  “We could all learn something from that,” Rocky added. “But we’ve taken up enough of your time. Can we help you close up?”

  “Actually, if you could close down the computer. I’ll put the discs away,” she said, looking at Sam.

  Sam quickly ejected the disc and handed all of them back to her, keeping his hand over his flash drive.

  When she walked away, Sam retrieved his flash drive, slipped it into his pocket, and closed down the computer. Mrs. Madison ushered the boys up the stairs while she turned off the lights and followed them back to the main floor. She took a quick tour of

  the rooms to make sure everyone was out while the boys waited by the portrait.

  The shutters were pulled closed across all the lower windows but sunlight still filtered through the orange slice windows above them leaving glowing sunsets on the tiled floor.

  “Did you mean to leave that on?” Sam asked Mrs. Madison, pointing to the light over the portrait.

  “Yes,” Mrs. Madison replied matter-of-factly. “It’s part of our security system.”

  Sam looked at the portrait one more time and once again thought Genny flashed a smile at him. He convinced himself it had been a flicker of the lamp that made it look like Genny smiled, and followed Rocky and Mrs. Madison out the back door.

  “Thank you again,” Rocky said.

  “You’re welcome,” Mrs. Madison said as she locked the back door and headed to her car. She turned around after a few steps. “Just to be clear, no one needs to know I gave you access to those documents, right?”

  “Don’t you worry. We won’t tell anyone,” Rocky said.

  After Mrs. Madison drove away, Sam looked back at Harold’s house. “Although the brothers look a lot alike, their houses certainly don’t,” Sam said.

  “Harold’s house reminds me of a dog dressed up in a tuxedo,” Rocky said. “All fancied up and none too happy about it.”

  Sam was starting to get used to thinking the same things as Rocky. It actually felt good to be on the same page as someone else. “Even though Henry’s house was run down, I felt like I was welcome there. Not here though.” Sam turned away, nearly running into a large white oak tree. Embarrassed, he spread his arms out wide around the trunk.

  “Whatch’a doing now?” Rocky asked.

  “I was just curious as to the age of the tree,” Sa
m said. “I estimate it to be at least 3.5 feet in diameter.”

  Rocky lifted his eyebrows.

  “Well, it means this tree was planted before the shipwreck.”

  “And you know that from giving it a hug?” Rocky asked.

  “No, I know a formula for estimating the age of a tree based on its diameter and the average growth rate for this species. Knowing my wingspan and the fact that white oaks have a growth factor of five, I estimate the tree is 230 years old.”

  “Okay, that’s right nice to know,” Rocky said, twirling his hat in his hands. “But this is important because?”

  While Sam fumbled around in his brain for a reasonable explanation for his tree-hugging incident, Rocky just shook his head.

  “You know it’s okay to admit that you ran into the tree by accident. Everybody does stuff like that once in a while,” Rocky said. “It’s not like I’m going to make fun of you or anything.”

  “That has definitely not been my experience in the past,”

  Sam said.

  Rocky smiled. “That’s cause you’re not hanging out with the right kind of people—people like me. Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

  The boys starting walking through the parking lot when

  Sam stopped.

  “Wait a minute. The plaque said the house was built in 1785, which was the same year the portrait was done. Harold’s daughter was five or six, so he’d been married. Why didn’t the house go to his wife instead of the town? She wasn’t in the portrait. What happened to her?”

  Rocky shrugged. “Don’t know. But Henry’s wife wasn’t in the portrait either.”

  “True,” Sam said. “On the subject of the portrait, you didn’t happen to see anything odd, like Genny appearing to smile

  or anything?”

  “Have you considered an eye exam?” Rocky asked. “You see a lot of stuff other people don’t. But now that you brought up smiling, there’s something I need to talk to you about.”

  Sam froze, expecting to be told he was just too weird and Rocky didn’t want to hang out with him anymore.

  “When you were showing Mrs. Madison that article on the orphans, were you trying to…smile at her?”

  “Yes. I was. I was trying to be friendly and maybe a little charming.” Sam remembered the look he’d seen on Rocky’s face at the time. “Did I do it wrong?”

  Rocky shook his head. “Not exactly. Have you ever looked at yourself when you smile?”

  “No. Why should I?”

  “’Cause whatever you did back there was not a smile. Actually, it was a bit scary.” Rocky pulled out his phone. “Here, do it again and I’ll take your picture.”

  Slightly befuddled, Sam did as requested. When Rocky

  showed him his picture, he nearly jumped back. “Oh, I see what

  you’re talking about.”

  “Let me show you,” Rocky said, breaking into a smile. “See, you’ve got to get relaxed, like me. Your face was all screwed up like you were in some kind of pain. A smile should be enjoyable both to you and those lookin’ at you.”

  Sam tried a few times and Rocky kept shaking his head.

  “Try thinking of something you like doing,” Rocky said.

  Sam thought about swimming alone in a clean clear pool and tried again.

  Rocky punched Sam’s shoulder. “That’s more like it. But I suggest you keep on practicing.”

  “I will do just that,” Sam said.

  “There you go with the geeky talk again. I thought I had you past all that,” Rocky said. “Let’s get going.”

  The boys headed out to the main street and Sam took one more look back at Harold’s house. Just like at Henry’s house, he felt there was something more to it than the materials used to build it. Sam felt another prickling on the back of his neck and watched as the house began to glow a deep dark red.

  “Rocky! Look!”

  Rocky looked back. “Yeah, I know. The sun is saying it’s getting late and we’re supposed to be back before dinner.”

  Sam looked again. He’d probably just seen the sun reflecting in the arched windows. The old glass must have distorted the rays to make it appear to glow. That had to be the explanation. What other reason was there?

  Rocky wasn’t kidding about hurrying back and they broke into an easy run, stopping when they got to the fork in the camp road. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, sprinting towards his campsite.

  Sam heard Rocky’s aunt and uncle asking why he was so late and smiled, remembering what Rocky said about never getting to be alone. Sam turned right and strolled towards his campsite. His parents were cooking dinner and chatting about tidal pools. He set his backpack on one of the camp chairs near the fire pit.

  His dad looked up from the tidal chart spread out on the picnic table.

  “Good timing,” he said, folding the chart. “Dinner is ready.”

  His mom set out hot dogs and grilled corn. “I hope this corn

  is good. We got it from this little farm stand just outside of town,” she said. “It had the funniest name, ‘Wellbottoms’.”

  Sam nearly choked on his corn. “Interesting name.”

  “Yes, Mrs. Wellbottom mentioned they were old timers here,” his mom said. “What did you learn today?”

  “I learned about the two brothers who started a shipbuilding business in town.”

  “Sounds like the tour we forced you to go on was not a total waste of time,” his dad said.

  “Actually, I learned more about the brothers at the library than on the tour,” Sam replied.

  “We take you all the way to the shores of North Carolina and you still end up at the library,” his dad said, shaking his head.

  “Now, Tomas. Some of the most interesting data is found when you go outside of the prescribed plan,” his mom said. “In fact, when we walked past our Southern tidal pools we found an unusual species of French lavender growing in the dunes above a large marsh. We asked Mrs. Wellbottom about it and she said it only grows in that area. People have tried to transplant or propagate it but the plants never survive anywhere else.”

  “Is there something special about the water or soil?” Sam asked.

  “Early on some botanists tried to get water and soil samples from the marsh, but they were sucked into it, like quicksand, and nearly died trying to get out. The town roped off the area in the early 1800’s so no one would get hurt.”

  Sam’s mom pulled some leaves from her shirt pocket and rubbed them between her fingers. “You have to smell this,” she said, holding the crushed leaves under Sam’s nose. “Mrs. Wellbottom told us there’s a folktale saying it smells like love and just like love, you can’t transplant it.”

  Sam shook his head. “How can anything smell like love? Love is an emotion.”

  Sam’s mom shrugged. “Not everything makes sense right away. You of all people know you need to collect more data to solve

  these puzzles.”

  Normally, Sam would have tried to do just that, but he had his own mystery to work on.

  “Dad, is the printer in the van?” Sam asked.

  “No, we took it out to make more room for camping supplies,” his dad said looking over another the tidal charts. “Why?”

  “I just downloaded some articles about the area at the library and wanted to print them out,” Sam said.

  “I still do not understand why you prefer printing everything out,” his dad said. “We have a perfectly good laptop and iPad,

  right here.”

  “There have been multiple studies showing better comprehension when the material is read from paper versus on a screen,” Sam said. “There is also some data showing improved retention of the data read on paper.”

  “Interesting,” his dad said. “Send me the research when you get a chance.”

  “Of course,” Sam said,
still trying to figure out how he was going to print out the articles. After all the strange things he’d seen and felt today, he wanted something solid to hold onto and study. Most importantly, he wanted to get some facts.

  “You look deep in thought,” his mom said, giving Sam a nudge. “You should go for a swim when the dishes are done.”

  “Yes…of course. That is a very good idea,” Sam said. He helped with clean up and changed into his swim trunks. Then he grabbed a towel and goggles and headed to the pool near the camp office.

  Chapter 9

  A few kids were splashing around the shallow end but the lap lanes were free. Sam set his stuff on a lounge chair and dove in, barely causing a splash.

  He relaxed as soon as the water wrapped around him. There was no one asking him questions, no one he had to be nice to, no one he was trying to avoid. He slipped easily into his swim routine, swimming five laps each of freestyle, breaststroke, side stroke, and butterfly. His body moved effortlessly through the water while his brain started thinking.

  He thought about how Henry and Bart both talked about treasure on their deathbed and he wondered where the Dragonfly could be. Then he stopped mid-lap. Just this morning Rocky said Sam would want to figure out where the Dragonfly was. How did Rocky know he couldn’t leave a question unanswered? Sam cleared his goggles and started swimming again, still thinking about Rocky.

  Rocky was more than the simple country boy Sam thought he was at first. He’d charmed the girls and Mrs. Madison and even remembered all the dates Mr. Henley had rattled off. The data pointed to Rocky being intelligent, diplomatic, and charming.

  But what about his motives for befriending Sam? Was it real or was it just a trick to get Sam’s help?

  Sam rocketed off the wall on his next turn. Enough about people. He wanted facts. Lap after lap Sam combed through the day’s events searching for something solid. All he came up with was the wreck of the Dragonfly. That, and a whole lot more questions.