Shark Cave

The Shark Cave

Jimmy and I couldn't believe what we were looking at! The cave was huge
and the walls were covered with Indian drawings. We were going to be
famous! Both of us realized that we wouldn't have found this place if
it hadn't been for old man Jackson and his crazy stories. Now that we
have found the Shark Cave, it's time to find the gold! This is one time
I really want old man Jackson's story to be true&;#8230;

Being fourteen is miserable! Being the son of an English teacher makes
being 14 almost unbearable. Please don't think I'm being disrespectful
because I love my mother, but boy do I hate English! I know she wants
me to do the best I can at school but all my other friends get to go
outside right after school and I have to stay home and write at least
two paragraphs before I'm allowed out of the dungeon Mom calls our
"library." She calls this torture "journalizing" and says it will help
shape my mind, soul and body. Right now it's just making my head
hurt.

Jimmy comes home from school with me and has read a few of my journal
entries&;#8230;he calls it my "journal of gloom" because all I ever
write about is how I hate to write! He should be the one writing! The
guy is full of crazy ideas. I have to admit that his imagination has
been the inspiration of many of my paragraphs. I would have missed
countless hours of fishing or baseball if it hadn't been for his wild
ideas about life, school, and girls. Jimmy is my best friend, but I
still can't figure out why he likes to read so much. Just isn't natural
for a 14-year-old. The good thing is that he likes to fish and he even
goes with me Saturday mornings to the library. Mom makes me go there
every Saturday and listen to old man Jackson's stories. They say he's
been living in New Hanover County more than a hundred years. He often
tells us stories about the ocean and the Cape Fear River because he
spent most all of his life as a fisherman. You can tell that when he
was younger he must have been a very tall black man, but now he walks
slow and sort of hunched over with his huge hands dangling at his side.
He told us that he has White, Indian, and African American ancestors
and that is why he knows so many stories. All Jimmy and I know is that
he looks more than a hundred with that bright white hair against his
dark wrinkled skin, oh, and that he sleeps a lot.

It's not cool to tell people at school that you go to Saturday morning
story telling at the library, and even Jimmy and I joke about old man
Jackson but deep down inside if we were honest with one another we find
ourselves on the edge of our seats during his stories especially the
ones about the Indians and the Shark Cave. Supposedly, the Indians that
lived along our coast had annual gatherings in an underground cave
nearby. Old man Jackson said the walls are covered with Indian pictures
of giant sharks and that the cave was also used by pirates to hide
their gold. Jimmy and I loved hearing about the Indians, the Shark Cave
and the pirate gold. If only it were true. There aren't any caves
around here, at least, none that we can find. One Saturday old man
Jackson told the Shark Cave story and I noticed Jimmy was taking notes.
Jimmy said that since we had 20 minutes until my mother was to pick us
up we should check the facts of the story against some of the maps in
the library.

"Mike you're a lug head!" Jimmy laughed, "Why are you looking at the
world map?"

"Just need to get my bearings, Dr. Watson," I said, playfully.

"Oh, and I suppose you're Sherlock Holmes and I'm the dumb
doctor?"
Jimmy teased. We both knew Jimmy was the real brain in our
operation.

"Precisely, my good Doctor&;#8230;precisely." We joked and kidded
around some more while looking for the oldest North Carolina maps.
Jimmy was way back in the corner of the historical section when he
found the map. This one was wrinkled and faded, not like the ones in
the map drawers. Jimmy found this one stuck between two dusty, old
oversized art books. The map looked pretty worthless and maybe a little
older than old man Jackson, if that was possible. We found New Hanover,
Brunswick, and Pender Counties and the Cape Fear River where all of old
man Jackson's stories were supposed to have taken place. The writing
was kind of hard to read, and some of the letters weren't right. They
looked fancy like the words in my grandpa's old Bible. Old man Jackson
had said the cave was hidden under rocks and bushes on an island near a
fork in the river. That's not much to go on but Jimmy and I found a few
spots on the map that were close enough to my rickety old house on
River Street that we could investigate tomorrow right after
Church.

As usual, Jimmy sat with his family at church, and I sat in the back
with Uncle Mark and his wife April. Mom doesn't go to church much since
my dad died, but I kind of like the way I feel when I am in that big
old sanctuary. Sort of safe and good. I don't know why we always sit in
the back of church, I guess my Uncle thinks if he gets too close to the
preacher he will be used as an example or something. Uncle Mark doesn't
much like Church anyway and it's about all my Aunt can do to get him to
go each Sunday. Uncle Mark must have been partly right about the
preacher talking about him because every time the preacher mentioned
any kind of sin Aunt April would give him a good elbow to the ribs. No
wonder he didn't like going to church!

Mom finished up her shift at Shoney's about the time we got home from
church on Sunday's. Teacher's pay as a single parent was not enough to
support both of us and pay for her graduate studies. Waitressing wasn't
exactly her dream job, but the tips were good and the boss was good
about her schedule. She always worried about not having enough money
for my college and having to be away from me too much. She said that I
needed to get good grades so I could get a scholarship because she
wasn't going to be able to save enough to pay for my college. To be
honest the only reason I make good grades is to make my mother happy. I
love her more than anything and want her to be proud of me and if
getting good grades is the answer then so be it, no matter how bad I
hate math. I just wish my dad were alive to see all the A's and B's I'm
making now. I only see him now in my dreams. I can still smell the Old
Spice cologne he wore to cover up the cigarette and oil smell.
Everybody that ever knew my father said he was the best mechanic in all
of Wilmington. He loved three things in life, God, his family and
NASCAR. One night he stopped to help a lady fix a flat tire out on Hwy.
17 and a semi-truck ran right over my dad and the car when the driver
fell asleep. Luckily the lady was waiting in my dad's truck where it
was warm so she survived. I miss my Dad the most of anything. Second
most, I miss my mom laughing. She never laughs anymore.

The preacher finally finished his sermon 10 minutes after twelve. Trust
me folks that ain't bad for Pastor Baldwin. Some of the men who smoke
cigarettes outside in the parking lot before church call him "Windy"
Baldwin cause of how much he talks. There are some Sundays he goes on
and on about how we could all die sudden like before we repent of our
sins. Then, sort of to convince us, he reminds us about his great grand
Uncle of long ago who was a train conductor. Evidently, the poor fella
was working on a train caboose or something and it got detached from
his train somehow and then along came another train that crashed into
him. Some of the older boys at church said his head was cut off from
his body and if you go out on the tracks late at night you will see the
ghost of the train conductor with his lamp swinging back and forth
across the tracks while he searches for his head. Of course, Jimmy and
I didn't believe them because we have spent many a night out in that
exact area along the tracks and haven't seen a thing. I don't like the
story anyway because it makes me think of Dad.

After church we rushed home and begged our folks to let us make
sandwiches instead of waiting for the pot roast so we could go
exploring. For some strange reason they agreed without an argument.
Jimmy's family was normal except that Jimmy's Dad always told Jimmy
that he should try harder at school. Come to think of it, I guess that
is pretty normal too. Jimmy had extra pressure though. His parents
would say that Jimmy had a tradition to uphold. He came from a long
line of professional businessman dating back to the early days of the
blockade-runners and that he should "get serious" about his studies.
Jimmy just wanted to be a writer and travel the world looking for the
Great Untold Story. His Dad told him he should spend more time helping
at one of the family stores instead of fishing and writing fanciful
stories.

There would be no work today though, not on Sunday, and Jimmy and I
just knew something good was about to happen. Who ever heard of a
parent letting their kids skip Sunday dinner and run off exploring?
Anyway, we weren't sticking around to let them change their minds. We
grabbed our lunches and took off on our bikes to find the Shark Cave.
We made our way down to the river and crossed the bridge and gave the
battleship North Carolina a smart hand salute and started south to the
biggest fork in the Cape Fear River. After the road ran out on Eagle
Island we had to ditch our bikes and walk. It was hard going and when
we came across some shade and some rocks we decided to take a break and
have lunch. We sat in the cool of the shade and ate our ham and cheese
sandwiches and drank from our canteens and studied the map harder than
we had studied anything at our middle school. We looked closely at the
markings on the ragged edge of the paper. We weren't sure what they
were so we held them up to the sun to get a clearer look. We both
gasped at the same time. Behind the map or in it or whatever there was
another map. It was like some of the neat paper money my grandpa
brought me one time from England. A kind of invisible picture.

Jimmy and I both squinted against the sun and struggled to make out
what was on the secret map. As we looked closely we realized it was a
map of Eagle Island and the map had a big X marked at the southern tip
of the island. We couldn't believe it! Old man Jackson was right! There
was treasure on this island! The infamous Blackbeard must have hid some
treasure on our island. And why not? It was a perfect hiding spot. We
didn't waste anymore time, we ran toward the South with the adrenaline
of lottery winners basking in their new found fortune, it was as sure
as the map tucked up in Jimmy's shirt.

I don't know what we expected. Maybe a big marker on the ground or some
distinguishing feature, but after arriving at the end of the island we
realized that the treasure wasn't going to be easy to find. Surely
Blackbeard and his men wouldn't just bury it right in the sand? Jimmy
and I consulted the map within a map but didn't find any more clues.
Tired and losing momentum, we looked around for some sign, some clue. I
kicked a broken tree limb out of my way and my heart skipped when I
caught the dull glow of metal. I reached down and picked up several
copper squares a couple inches across with holes in each corner. Most
were almost completely green, but one glowed a bit like it had been
recently polished. It wasn't exactly what I had been hoping for. I
stared out from my perch at the amazing Cape Fear. The sun sparkled off
the afternoon currents like pieces of pirate gold.

"Mike, come check this out!" The noise broke the silence and brought me
back to our task. The enthusiasm in Jimmy's voice gave rise to false
hope. It wasn't the treasure, but it was pretty cool. At first I didn't
know what it was, a shiny black pointed rock jutting out of Jimmy's
hands. When he opened up his fingers I knew the shape at once.
Triangular, black, ridges down one side, a thick rough padding on top.
It was a shark's tooth. The biggest sharks tooth I had ever seen! The
massive fossil fully covered one of Jimmy's hands. I tried to imagine
the enormous beast that lost this tooth. We both had tons of shark
teeth at home, but this was an amazing find. None of the guys at school
had anything near this cool. After we had inspected it and made certain
there were no more like it, I took the tooth and placed it carefully in
Jimmy's backpack that we had brought along to carry the gold. I decided
not to show Jimmy the handful of strange copper squares; they couldn't
compare to his discovery. But I figured I'd better keep them because
they might be clues. The sun was reminding us to head toward home. It
was a long walk back to the bikes and a long ride back over the bridge,
but somewhere between the old broken rowboat and the stop sign on my
corner, we came up with a plan.

Our folks never suspected the following morning that Jimmy and I were
going to play hooky from school. We waited until they went off to work
to double back from the bus stop area to get our bikes and head back
out to claim our treasure. We decided to stop by the Cape Fear Museum
before we headed out to the island to see if we could find out more
about Eagle's Island and the big shark's tooth we had found. We decided
on a "cover story" as to why we weren't in school. Mike came up with
the "independent field research" project. I died laughing as Mike put
on his glasses and took out his notepad and the shark's tooth from his
backpack and put on his best "scientific" face. The man at the desk
looked very suspicious about our story, but he was more interested in
the shark's tooth than our possible truancy and sent us to talk to Mr.
Padgett in their research department. Mr. Padgett was even more excited
than the guy at the front desk. He opened up a huge old book and showed
us that the shark's tooth was from an extinct shark. He said that
Mike's tooth was not terribly valuable but was a very good fossil. When
he asked us where we had found it, Mike told him that we found it at
the beach. That was not too big of a lie but not really the truth
either. Mr. Padgett wanted to know if he could borrow the tooth to show
one of the professors over at the University. We told him that we would
bring it back again after we gave our report at school. He raised an
eyebrow and then winked and smiled like he could remember being 14 once
too. Before we left I decided to show him my copper squares. As soon as
I pulled them out of my pocket he asked where I had found them. It was
then that I knew they were important. I told him I had found them at
the beach too. He wanted to know exactly where because he said the
Indians in North Eastern North Carolina long ago used these as money.
He thought maybe there would be more Indian artifacts where this Indian
money was found. He went to go get a map of the coastline so we could
show him and Jimmy and I slipped out the back door. It was already
closing behind us when we heard the alarm sound. We jumped on our bikes
and flew down Market Street. My heart was beating hard in my chest by
the time we reached the water.

We made much better time because we knew the trails of Eagle Island
from yesterday's exploration mission. When we got to the area we were
at the day before we realized it had changed some. The beach area was
bigger and came to a sharper point. The tide was low and the air was
filled with a musty fish smell. Because of the low tide we had more
area to cover. We noticed something else too. There were large bubbles
coming up from just at the edge of the water. We decided to
investigate. We waded out to where the bubbles were coming and found a
steep drop off. The bubbles were coming from a deep hole in the river.
Both of us tried to touch the bottom but it was way too deep. We swam
and waded back to the shore. Disappointment doesn't describe the
feeling we were experiencing we realized that the treasure was
underneath the river and we had no way to get to it.

After about an hour of arguing we decided not to go get an adult
partner that could scuba dive. Who did we know? Who could we trust? We
decided to go home and sleep on it. Jimmy said he wanted to take the
lead on the ride home so headed off down the western side of the island
and not the usual way we had been getting to the southern part of the
island. Once again, up from ahead I heard the familiar scream of
excitement from my exploring buddy.

"Mike, check this out!' It was a big group of rocks on a small hill
covered with brush. Jimmy and I were on another small hill about 100
feet away. Jimmy was pointing at the rocks on the top of the hill and
saying, "X marks the spot! X marks the spot!" I thought he had
completely lost it&;#8230;until I saw the formation the big rocks
made on the top of our neighboring hilltop. He was right! They were in
the shape of an X. We raced to the other hill and started frantically
digging around the rocks on the top of the hill. Before long we were
exhausted and decided to take a break and calm down. We went to the
side of the hill where there were some flat rocks and shade trees for
us to rest under. We laid on the rocks until our breathing slowed and
then both of us heard it almost at the same time. It was the sound of
running water. It wasn't coming from the Cape Fear but from underneath
the ground. There was water underneath this hill and most likely there
was a cave too! Remembering old man Jackson's stories about pirates, we
attacked the soft dirt on the side of the hill that would be most
concealed from an observer. It wasn't long before Jimmy and I heard a
thud echo back from our small shovels. It was the sound of wood! A
treasure chest maybe? Dirt and grasses rained down on both of us as we
dug like mad men.

Amazing! Little by little the wood spot grew and grew. Too large for a
treasure chest, the wooden planks gradually formed the shape of a
rounded wide wooden door that was bolted onto the bedrock of the hill.
Carved into thick old beams was the infamous trademark of Blackbeard,
the skull and cross bones. Black burns outlined the figure and the
letters beneath it. "Death lies within." Jimmy and I knew immediately
that this was standard pirate tactics, but our stomachs fluttered with
quick flashes of fear mixed with excitement.

It took a long time to pry the door open but we finally managed to get
one of our shovels underneath and pry it open slowly. A dank mildew
smell wafted out of the darkness. Deep in the cavern blackness our eyes
could see movement. As they gradually adjusted we could see the
afternoon sun reflecting off of an underground stream. An old stone
pathway lay next to the stream. Jimmy and I were pretty quiet as we
took out our flashlights to explore the mysterious cave. Even though we
didn't have a lot to say, I am pretty sure we were both thinking about
the same thing. There just had to be treasure here and we were about to
be rich and famous. With all the bravery we could muster we climbed
into the Pirate Cave.

Jimmy let me go first. As I lowered myself into the pit, my hands slid
down the rock wall. My flashlight caught an image as I struggled for a
foothold. It was then that I noticed all the Indian drawings on the
cave walls. Shiny black triangle rocks lined nearly every inch that was
free of drawings. The rocks were slick and utterly smooth. I ran my
fingers across them. Bumps on the edges felt almost chiseled. I help up
the flashlight. Jimmy's light crossed mine and we both gasped. The
rocks weren't rocks at all. This cave was covered in huge black shark's
teeth. The cave wasn't enormous but measured about 200 feet by 100 feet
with the North end being considerably larger.

We walked along the side of the cave and noticed small dug out areas in
the walls. One must have been a fireplace of sorts and another smaller
one was filled with the large shark teeth and what appeared to be
copper squares. As we got closer to the front of the cave we noticed
one thing appeared to be out of place. There was a table and chairs
arranged at the highest part of the cave. A huge knife stuck ominously
out of the table. As we got closer we could see words carved into the
table, "Me lady of Bath I love, Pirating is my joy but gold has stolen
my heart."
Jimmy and I knew then that this cave was the Indian Cave and also a
secret lair of Blackbeard. In all likelihood we were going to find some
treasure! We looked around the cave for the treasure and came upon
another smaller opening leading to another part of the cave. Jimmy went
first because only one person could go through at a time. Once again, I
heard the familiar excited cry of my friend.

"It's the treasure, it's the treasure!" I heard him scream.

As I burst into the adjoining cave I realized it was indeed a treasure.
There were four chests of gold and silver coins, gold goblets, what
appeared to be silver plates and cups and lots of odd things like
swords and other weapons. The small room was stuffed full of treasure.
We were absolutely ecstatic. We grabbed up swords and played pirates as
the gold coins jingled beneath our feet.

All the while we sang out, "Thank you Blackbeard, and thank you old man
Jackson!"