The Lost Fortuna

It was one of those hazy and humid afternoons in late summer. People had been browsing the shop as an escape from the heat. The ‘Lost Pages’ was a used and new bookshop just off the corner of Main Street in the seaside town of Willow’s Bay. Tourists lingered in the streets, sandy and sunburnt in the afternoons. Families with sticky handed children tinkled into the shop. Rebecca Clark looked up from behind the counter to give a smile which waned slightly as one rambunctious child knocked into a whole display.

“Sorry,” the mother winced before wrangling the child. Rebecca forced a smile and went to reset up the display.

“We do have a children’s section,” Rebecca pointed to the back corner, “Let me know if you need anything,” she glanced at the books in disarray at her feet. The bell tinkered again behind her as another customer came through the old weathered door.

When she finally rearranged the display to her liking, she strolled around checking shelves and managing to give a recommendation to an older couple interested in books about sailing.

“We actually have a nautical section over here. Very popular with tourists and locals alike,” she explained. The woman with her cropped silvery hair gave her a thankful smile as she recommend a few other favorites before stepping back to let them browse. It was then she noted a man staring at her. He was tall and tanned with a thick beard but couldn’t be much older than her-late thirties perhaps. She gave a cheery smile, “Can I help you?”

“Just browsing,” he replied swiftly. He turned his attention to a few books that outlined the mystery of Willow Bay. Rebecca hesitated as she watched him peruse for a moment.

“Those are very popular with visitors,” Rebecca added, tucking a dark curl behind her ear when he stared up at her. His stare unnerved her, she realized. His eyes were a bright green. She blinked and looked away, glancing at the nautical section. She had a few local books about a missing ship that was good lore for tourists. “People like to imagine the story of the Fortuna. A ship at the bottom of sea with buried treasure to be discovered. There were rumors that it crashed here in Willow’s Bay back at the turn of the century. Everyone loves the mystery.”

He gave a grunt and Rebecca took that as a sign to return to the front where a few customers lingered. “I’ll be at the front if you need anything or have any questions.” She could feel his eyes on her as she walked away, but when she turned to glance at him he was intently studying a map in one of the antique nautical books.

Business was steady at this time of year for the bookshop. Locals and tourists alike filtered through the shop during this season which was a good thing, but there were some days where she missed the slow days where she could put her feet up and read a book in her own shop in peace. She longed for the autumn days where she could take a long lunch, stroll by the beach even as the sea breeze turned cooler and biting. That doesn’t pay the bills now does it, Becca? She thought to herself. The young family had come to check out with a stack of children’s books and the latest crime thriller thrown in for good measure. “Enjoy!” she called out cheerily as the family left. She noticed the strange man had hurried out after them and made a note to go reorganize the nonfiction area he was looking at once she finished tidying up the children’s section.

Between helping a few giggling teenagers and a serious looking college student who explained he only read nonfiction, historical texts, she finally made her way to tidy up shelves.

It was then that she noticed something strange. She had a glass display where a few prominent antique books sat. One about Fortuna, another with the history of Willow’s Bay, and one with nautical maps–an ode to the history of the town and its shipping ties. They were neat books that people always enjoyed pursuing, but she noticed the latter, Maps of the Eastern Seaboard with its old fashioned illustrations and shipping routes, was missing. She peeked under other books on the table, looking to see if it had been misplaced or put astray somehow.

Finally, after rearranging and searching the whole area, she sighed discontentedly. She had a nagging feeling about the man that had been here this morning. He had been edgy. She should have watched him more closely. Rarely did one experience book thieves these days, so she hadn’t given it too much thought. It had been one she had seen at an auction last year and thought it would make a great display piece. She supposed she would have sold it if anyone had asked, but she liked it for the display mostly for such an old book. It gave character to a slightly used bookshop.

Disappointed, she thought she ought to take her late lunch break before hurrying back. She quickly put her sign up on the door (‘Out for lunch!’) and made her way to the cafe down the street.

Rebecca was a creature of habit. Every Thursday, she ordered the daily special from the Main Street Cafe, half a turkey sandwich with a tomato basil soup, to go. Wendy, the proprietor, smiled at her as she entered the cafe. She was taking a few orders in front of her, allowing her eyes to wander the quaint cafe. A few patrons chatted still lingering despite lunch being long over. Booths lined the walls under the large windows. The checkered floors and windows gave it an open airy feel although it wasn’t big by any means.

That is when she noticed him. The man from her shop. He was bent over a book–her book–studying it intently. “Rebecca?” She tore her eyes away to find Wendy trying to get her attention.

“Sorry,” she said quickly.

Wendy just smiled easily, “You’re usual?”

“Yeah,” Rebecca nodded, distractedly, her eyes trailing back to the man. He hadn’t looked up or noticed that she was in the cafe. “That’d be great. Hey, will you give me just a sec?” she asked without waiting for a response.

She stalked up to his booth and it wasn’t until she was standing right in front of him that he finally tore his eyes away and glanced up.

“Oh,” he said simply. He didn’t seem worried that she’d found him or the least bit guilty, “May I help you?” he asked at last.

“I’m sorry?” Rebcca was flabbergasted. Did he not have any decency? He couldn’t even bother with a half hearted apology when she had caught him red handed?

“No need,” he waved her comment away. “If you were waiting to sit, I was just leaving.” He had snatched the book up and placed it in his satchel.

Rebecca found her voice, “No–excuse me, but that book belongs to me,” she looked pointedly at the satchel.

He gave her a breezy smile and squeezed past her. His arms brushed up against her causing her to shiver slightly at the touch. “Ah yes, thank you for letting me borrow it,” he said over his shoulder, making his way to the door of the cafe.

“What? No–I–I didn’t,” she sputtered, “I’m not a library!” she called after him.

He didn’t turn around but gave a wave as he exited the cafe.

Rebecca stared at the door uncertain what to do. She could feel her heart thumping in her chest. She heard Wendy ask if everything was alright and if she knew that man. Rebecca muttered something about being back soon and ran outside. The man was already taking long strides away from the cafe and crossing the street.

“Wait–sir! Excuse me!” She shouted after him. She jogged to catch up and he gave her an amused look but he didn’t stop. “You took that from my bookstore.” Stole. She thought. Thief.

“Borrowed,” he corrected cheerily, “I will return it, not to worry.”

“As I said before, I’m not a library. You have to pay for these things. You can’t just take them!” she found herself wheezing the last part as she found herself nearly jogging to keep up.

He took a sharp turn. Heading for the marina, she realized.

“You can not bring that in open water!” she exclaimed, “That’s an antique!”

He gave her a quizzical look, “It’s a map of the coastline and ocean. I highly doubt the cartographer intended for this to be left on a dusty shelf.”

“My shelves are not dusty!” Rebecca said shrilly.

“My apologies,” he tipped his head but did not stop his stride.

They had reached the large pier where tourists milled and a few fishermen were posted near the benches. Gulls flew overhead, squawking, and Rebecca turned pink in embarrassment as she stood at the edge of the pier while this man took off with her book.

“I demand you stop right here!” she stopped, hoping he would too. He paused, staring at her with a strange expression.

“What’s your name?”

“I’m sorry?”

“You are the owner of the bookshop, yes?”

“Yes. Rebecca. The Lost Pages is my shop, correct.”

“Okay, well, Rebecca. I’m Luke. Feel free to join me.” He turned and took off again, trailing down one of the docks.

“What? No! I should call the police!” She hurried after him, noticing some stares as she did so but she ignored them, “This is ridiculous! You cannot take things that are not yours!”

She found herself staring at a sailing boat that he climbed aboard. It had the words Aurum written in script on the side. It was modest but clean and the man looked perfectly at ease as Luke began checking ropes and inspecting some things on the boat.

“Are you coming?” he called. When she didn’t answer, he came towards the dock and looked at her for a long moment, “Rebecca, this book holds the truth of the lost ship–the Fortuna. I’m closer than I’ve ever been. When I find the treasure, I promise you…” Luke squinted at her for a long moment, assessing, “Five percent for the loan of the book.”

“You’re joking,” she stared at him.

“I know, it sounds ridiculous after all this time…but I’ve been searching for some clues and realized that the maps most people have been working off of…were too modern…too accurate. This is the key,” he said, pulling the book out.

“This sounds like a tourist trap,” Rebecca sighed, crossing her arms, “Besides,” she added, “I don’t even know you–”

“Rebecca,” he interrupted. “Are you going to continue to only live your life out in books? Or would you like an adventure? A real one–one where you can feel it. Fill your lungs up with sea air and come sail with me. I’ll bring you back this evening,” At this he held out his hand. It was large and weathered but strangely, inviting. Rebecca hesitated. She knew this was crazy. But the waves splashed gently against the dock. The seagulls overhead cawed, egging her on. The sun beat down on her in the cloudless sky.

“I don’t have the right clothes.” She was wearing white slacks with a sleeveless black top. Even now she felt the sweat beading along her temple.

He tilted his head, ignoring this and said, “Rebecca.” His voice was scratchy, and his green eyes bored into her. She swallowed then carefully reached her hand out. He grasped it, his eyes crinkling and pulled her aboard.

Rebecca thought she must be crazy. She thought there likely was no treasure. Her shop was still closed. Wendy probably had her sandwich waiting for her at the cafe counter. But when the sea breeze blew her hair back, she tilted her face towards the sun for a moment and closed her eyes, taking in the feel of the sea.