8
Jul
After her breakfast Jeannie felt invigorated. She went back out on the deck to watch the sea. She seemed to have gotten her sea legs quickly. The rolling didn’t bother her at all.
“You seem to be better.” It was the crewman she passed on the way to breakfast.
“Yes, thanks. The galley chef is excellent.” She smiled.
“Let me guess, Biscuits and Gravy?” He ventured.
She let out a laugh. “How did you know?”
He looked at her seriously. “It’s my job to know.”
Then he winked.
“Silly.” Jeannie was surprised to finder herself flirting.
“Yeah, I know. I am silly. What’s your name?”
“My name? I thought you knew everything?” She played.
“Ha ha. Only important things like breakfast.” He teased.
“Oh I see. I am not important.” She pouted.
“Oh stop. Seriously. You are. . .?”
“Jeannie. And you are. . .?”
“Tom. Call me Tom.” He smiled.
-MRC
24
Jun
The trip to Reunion Island was mostly uneventful. Jeannie took some time to get familiar with her surroundings. She found she was actually hungry. She stopped a crewman.
“Excuse me? Is the galley open?”
“For you, it is always open Miss.” He continued on his way.
“For me?” She wondered aloud. “Why would it be open specifically for me?”
She worked her way down a deck and she could smell something wonder full wafting through the cramped hallway. She followed it and when she got to the galley she could see the cook working away over a hot stove.
“What’ll it be, Miss?” He seemed to be waiting for her.
“You aren’t open just for me are you?”
He laughed heartily. “Whatever gave you THAT impression?”
She blushed. “Sorry. Something a crewman said. Never mind. Do you make biscuits and gravy?”
He stopped what he was doing and motioned her closer.
“Honey, I make the BEST biscuits and gravy this side of the equator. Have a seat. It’ll be up in a jiffy.”
-MRC
10
Jun
Agnes was pacing by the phone when it finally rang.
“TOM!? What took you so long? I was worried.”
She listened intently.
“Good. Keep it that way. She can’t know who you are or we are screwed. Just keep your nose clean, son. Get them there in one piece and keep me apprised.”
She listened again.
“No. Absolutely NOT. Under no circumstances can you reveal who you are or why you are there. Not when we are this close. So close.” She closed her eyes as if dreaming.
“His treasure is nearly in our grasp. We must remain patient.”
-MRC
3
Jun
Jeannie didn’t know a person could be so sick. She spent the first two days on board the Little Lady feeding fish over the side. She wasn’t the only one surprised at how quickly she gathered her sea legs.
“We might make a sailor out of you yet.” The first mate gave her a smiling appraisal.
Jeannie smiled back. “What on earth would I want to be a sailor for?” They both laughed a little.
He continued on and Jeannie went below to find lunch. The crew on the Little Lady had been wonderful. They even had a real M.D. on board. “Didn’t all vessels have doctors on board?” Jeannie had asked once they left port.
“Some crew members have emergency medical training, but having an actual M.D. is a real luxury.” Geoff was impressed.
“So how did we get so lucky?”
“That question is still on my mind, Jeannie. This isn’t normal by any means. Someone seems to want to make sure we are successful at any cost.” He paused. “I just wonder who?”
Jeannie wondered aloud, “Shouldn’t the question be why?”
-MRC
27
May
As the sun sets on the small island, a young man buries his mother on a small plot of land. Reunion Island no longer means anything to him. His whole family line would end with him. The land no longer provided him with anything and the island economy was falling very fast. He would have to leave the only home he ever knew to find his destiny elsewhere.
The small bundle of belongings included very few items; some clothes, a bible, a root from his dying vineyard, and something of his mothers. She had worn the locket her whole life and took very good care of it. She left explicit instructions NOT to be buried with it. She wanted her family to keep it. He had no idea why. It was old and, as far as he knew, worthless.
-MRC
20
May
The flight to Madagascar had been uneventful. But everyone was tired. It was the third leg of a series of flights. But after seeing the shiny new vessel, the small band of treasure hunters felt a second wind of energy.
The Novatech Mariner was a surprise to everyone. The 125 foot exploration vessel looked brand new.
“Just who financed this gig?” Wondered Geoff out loud. He had expected a similar sized ship but not this well appointed.
“I think it even has a chef.” Someone on the production crew muttered.
“Well, this is just too hard to believe. I want to double check.” Ross, the director, walked towards the pilot house.
Jeannie was unaware that this was completely out of the norm. She didn’t care at that moment anyway. She was scared to death. She had never been on a boat in her life. Just looking at the large craft sitting so pretty in its assigned slip at the Port of Toamasina made her queasy.
-MRC
13
May
The next couple of weeks were a blur for Jeannie. PBS arranged for several sponsors for the expedition, so the production was a little more extravagant than she was expecting. Public Broadcasting doesn’t make big, splashy, network style television programs as a normal thing. But, with enough endowments from private sources, a production could be first class.
Her Uncle’s wish had grown to more than even he probably imagined it.
Not only would the production crew assemble in Madagascar, there would be a boat and a crew for that as well. The idea was to recreate the routes taken by the old Pirate LeVasseur and see, historically, how life was influenced by the people of the islands in those parts. They would also be chronicling contemporary life as well.
But without the Buzzard’s poem, they would never be able to break his code and, therefore, would probably not find any treasure.
-MRC
6
May
Geoff had done his homework. He learned all there was to learn about the pirate known as Olivier Levasseur, which wasn’t much. The Buzzard had slipped into legend. Geoff’s curiosity was piqued and he wanted to know more. So did Jeannie.
So did PBS.
Geoff brought Jeannie the news.
“They do? What does that mean? Are we going somewhere?” Jeannie was overwhelmed.
“Funding has been allocated in order to complete the story. It isn’t a Hollywood budget or anything, but a small production crew, you, and myself, are all going to Africa.”
Geoff smiled a huge smile.
“We’re going on a treasure hunt!”
-MRC
29
Apr
The old man squinted at the small object in his hand.
“Yes, yesssss.” His eyes twinkled with greed.
“This is the one. I am certain.”
She returned the locket to her satchel and paid the man a shilling.
“Thank you for your time. Have a dram on me.”
Smiling, she walked back out onto the tiny side street. The islands were cool that time of year. Her visit, brief as it was, was fruitful. Her mother’s gift had confused her. She had claimed for years something about a Pirate treasure. But a small locket did NOT equate to a treasure.
But, inside the locket was the real intrigue. A puzzle. All she would need was a key to decipher it. She needed to make a couple more stops in the islands. However, travel in the Seychelles in 1830 wasn’t easy for a woman.
She would need a disguise.
-MRC
22
Apr
The program went to commercial.
Agnes seemed to stop shaking.
“She doesn’t have the poem. SHE DOESN’T HAVE THE POEM!!” She was squeezing her son’s hand.
“Mother, please, my hand?”
“Do you know what this means?” She was beaming. “DO YOU!?”
“What? I don’t understand.” He looked confused.
“This woman, who claims to have Olivier’s Alphabet doesn’t have the cryptogram poem to compare her key with.” She looked at Tom.
“So? Who is Olivier?”
“Christ Tom! Pay attention!!” She went to the kitchen and opened a drawer. Inside was a small lock box. She opened it with a small key and withdrew an envelope.
“Here Tom.” She thrust the envelope to him.
“Now be careful with it. It is quite old.”
Inside the envelope was a small yellowed piece of thin paper. On it was a series of lines with scribbles and dots.
“What is it?”
“THAT, is the poem.”
-MRC