Buried Treasure

As the water got shallower, I got heavier. It was the one aspect of swimming I had always hated, and it always made me wish I could stay in the water, where grace came easily. Unfortunately, I had yet to grow a tail or gills, and so I had no choice but to fight against gravity and make it to shore.

A few steps brought me from the shifting, enveloping suction of the seabed to the firm, solid safety of the shoreline. I dragged myself up the beach, readjusting to a weight I normally did not notice. When I hit dry sand, I collapsed clumsily to my knees and rolled to face the sea again. My legs stretched out towards the ocean, and the slow water of the waves lapped gently at my feet, teasing me eagerly as it tried to take me back.

             I sat for a moment with my eyes closed, letting my breathing return to a steady pace, letting my mind calm, letting my body feel the coolness of the water again. Sand, hot from the sun, warmed my back, and a soft, warm breeze played against my exposed skin. Together, they grounded me and helped to control the emotions swirling within.

             When I had control again, I pulled the netted bag from my shoulder and brought it forward to sit on my lap. It had once been bright green nylon, but years of use, tears and repairs had added a rainbow of colours. A rectangular metal box lay within its confines, the dull metal gleaming through the netting as it caught the afternoon sun. For a moment, I rested my hands on top, feeling the chill that came from the metal slowly dissipate as it stole the heat from my hands. When curiosity overtook me, I pulled it from the bag and held it up.

             What had once been a green metal lunch box was now mostly dull grey. The seawater had eroded most of the paint, and brown rust marred large sections of the surface not hidden by barnacles. Turning it, I found the small padlock rusted shut. My hand moved to rest on my chest, just below my throat. Beneath the smooth material of my swimsuit, I felt the hard outline of the key. It was useless now, not that I had really expected anything less. I may have underestimated the toll of time and tide as a child, but as an adult I understood it all too well.

             I sat for a long time, watching the tide turn, and remembering another day in another time. Little had changed in the years since then. The beach looked much the same, although I suspected the dunes had shifted. The weather was much the same too – it had been August that day, rather than June, but the sun had shone just as brightly on the two children who had waded into the shallows of low tide.

We had carried the box between us, that day, because that was how one carried treasure. She had told me that the only treasure worth burying was in a chest too heavy for one person to carry alone, and so, with the lunch box loaded with our treasures, we had carried it between us. The Shipwreck – a rocky outcropping with a central stone that closely mirrored a ship’s mast - had been the obvious choice of destination. We had waded out to it and buried the box under a rock that had taken us both to shift. She promised that we would return one day when we were all grown up and reclaim our buried treasures.

I sighed, watching the shades of the two children travel across the water as they repeated their journey of years ago, until the sun dipped low and sent ripples of light skimming across the horizon.

Hours later and I stood, the box in my hands and a lantern at my feet. Beyond the light of the flame, darkness hid the world. It was late, and the lantern did not give enough light to fight the shadows that threatened to intrude into my bubble, but this was what she would have wanted.

It had been a year since my last visit, though there had been plenty in the eight years since I had first stood here, clothed in the black she had hated, and said goodbye for the last time.

 The lantern’s flame flickered in the night breeze, sending light dancing across the headstone before me.

             I smiled. “I’m sorry I’m late, although I doubt you mind too much. Do you still have preferred visiting hours?” I laughed, remembering how much she had hated being woken. “I’ve brought you a gift.” I held the box up, letting the metal catch the light, and then knelt to place it gently on the grass at the base of the headstone. “You always said that all the best pirates dug up their treasures at night.”

             I sat down in the grass and reached out for the box. I had applied a metal cutter and crowbar to it earlier that evening; it flipped open easily, revealing its contents.

“Do you remember the day we buried this?” I lifted the first of the treasures – a chocolate bar long past its expiration date. “You said the mermaids would be pleased to find this, and that they would be sure to protect our box in return for the chocolate. Well, I guess we hid it too well. They never found our chest.” I set them aside, smiling at the memory of how much convincing I had required to give up my chocolate.

I reached into the box again, gently picking up each item and placing them in a line beneath the headstone. Most of our treasure had been collected that day – perfectly formed shells and rocks smoothed by the sea, and the crystal gems of sea glass that we had been so sure were diamonds.

A polaroid photo came next, the ink smeared with time and exposure. We had taken it that day. With one arm stretched out and the other around my shoulders, she had taken the picture. We were smiling, grins plastered across faces a little too pink from the sun, and with matching hair that was spikey from the dried salty seawater. Even then, though she was three years older, we had been the same height. I had never noticed back then. She had always been so big, so mature.

Finally, I pulled out the last item. This one was pristine, unmarked by time, and mirrored the stars above in its monochrome static. Smiling at it, I turned it to face the headstone, showing it to her. “I added this one this evening. I thought it was about time I introduced you.”

The ultrasound scan fluttered slightly in the breeze as I placed it with the other treasures. “When she’s old enough, I’ll bring her to meet you. And I promise the little one will be as much a pirate queen as her aunt.”

Blinking back threatening tears, I looked up, focusing on the lights that shimmered so far above. Orion’s belt was, as always, the first constellation I found.

“Yes,” I whispered, “I’ll teach her the constellations so she can navigate by the stars. I’ll teach her, just as you taught me.”