CHAPTER 13 - A MONK'S JOURNAL
Jason sprawled across the bed in front of the air conditioner and let the cold air flow up his sleeves. Daniel sat cross-legged on his bed with the dagger balanced on his finger. It wobbled back and forth several times before the motion ceased. Jason swung around and lifted his shirt in the back.
"It seems to have a good balance," Daniel said.
"In all the pirate movies that means it was made by a master craftsman," Jason said.
Daniel gave him an irritated look. "Pirate movies are not the best source of facts."
"Alright then. It doesn't much look like the weapon of a nobleman."
"How can you tell?"
"No jewels, and the handle doesn't seem to be any kind of precious stone or metal. I don't think Balboa had made his fortune yet."
Daniel grasped the handle with his other hand and touched the glittering blade.
Jason's back was finally cold, and he dropped his shirt. "If we show it to Uncle Matt, he can make small replicas and sell them in the gift shop."
"I think you have to have a special license to sell weapons," Daniel said.
"Okay. Letter openers then."
Daniel gave him a yeah-right look. "Stop thinking about money. What we need to think about is where did Balboa come from, and more importantly - where did he go?"
"Do you think he's a ghost?"
"Well, you couldn't see through him. And he didn't talk about being dead. Aren't ghosts supposed to be people who died?"
"He did seem solid. And he was planning for a long and prosperous life. I don't think a ghost plans to get rich and build a house or have a wife."
"Okay," Daniel agreed. "So he wasn't a ghost. How about an actor?"
"That's a pretty deadly weapon for an actor. It's not a stage prop."
The lamplight reflected off the highly polished blade as Daniel sliced through the air with it. "I really like this knife."
"It looks like something Victor Smith would carry," Jason said.
"They did look alike didn't they? He's creepy, but do you think he's dangerous?"
Jason shrugged. "It was weird to see him outside the cave. Almost like he was expecting us."
Daniel lowered the dagger. "How did Balboa pull off that fading out trick?"
"Maybe there's some kind of electronics, or smoke and mirrors or - I don't know - something to create that kind of illusion."
"I think Katie or Dad would notice if someone's been messing around setting up equipment. You know how fussy Katie is. And, remember the power was out."
"That only leaves time travel or aliens," Jason said.
"He seemed pretty human to me. But the power outage fits with the alien theme from movies."
Jason smirked. "Now who's quoting Hollywood? Time travel would explain the cross."
"Are they from the same time period?" He touched the tip of the blade with his thumb.
"I think so," Jason said. "Maybe we should take the knife to Standing Bear and get his opinion on it."
Daniel looked at his hand and saw a trickle of blood. "That thing's sharp," he said. He put his thumb to his mouth as he grabbed a tissue to stop the bleeding.
"Balboa did say we'd taste his steel if we crossed him," Jason said. "Guess he was right."
"We'll take the dagger to Standing Bear tomorrow when we pick up the cross," Daniel said.
The phone rang. When Jason answered, it was his dad.
"Hi son. I wanted to let you know that we signed the lease on the house and started moving in. I can't wait to show you around. Did your mom tell you about the park?"
"She mentioned it."
"It has a six hundred year old oak tree."
"Do they let kids climb on it?"
"I don't think so. But I did meet an old man that's writing a book about the history of the area. I think you'd like him. He can tell you about all the historic places around here."
"But that's all in tour books," Jason said.
"The well known stuff is. But this man's family has lived around here for several generations. He knows a lot of the stories behind the scenes."
"Like what?"
"Like the beach where pirates landed to repair their ship. Or the new archeology dig not too far from here."
"A real dig?" His fingers tightened around the receiver.
"If you get to know him, he may even take you on a visit to the ruins."
"Do they let kids work on the site?"
"If someone sponsors them. You'd be a natural."
"You think so?"
"Why not? And when you're not practicing archeology, we can explore the hiking trails in the park. When Daniel comes to visit you'll know all the best spots."
Daniel was asleep by the time he got off the phone. Jason lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling, turning thoughts over in his head. He tried to picture the old man in the park. Was he as old and strange as Silas? And a real archeological dig. That was something that wouldn't happen back home. His dad didn't say what kind of ruins they were they excavating. Maybe the pirates had buried treasure on the beach while they were repairing their ship.
He opened up the library book. The musty smell drifted up as he thumbed through the pages. There were stories about treasures made and stolen, fortunes found and gambled away, and treasures hoped for but never realized.
One story told about a cache of gold that had been buried in the area. Some people credited the cache to McPherson, but most thought that it was buried by a band of Cherokee escaping through the area after being driven off their land.
Jason turned the page. The next story was about a conquistador who had deserted his unit and set about stealing gold from the Indians. The infamous man was known only as Balboa.
Jason sat up. "Balboa!" he exclaimed.
Daniel groaned and rolled over onto his back. In his hurry to get out of bed, Jason's foot got tangled in the sheet. Flailing his arms to catch his balance, the book flew out of his hand. It sailed across the room and landed on Daniel's stomach. Daniel jerked upright as Jason hit the floor. They both yelled together.
Breathing hard, Daniel's eyes were wild as he looked around the room. He focused on Jason who was stretched out on the floor, one foot still twisted in the sheet. "What are you doing?"
"I was reading."
"On the floor?"
"I was coming to show you something in the book."
Daniel spotted the crumpled book on the end of his bed. "Is that what hit me? Why'd you throw it at me?"
The phone rang. Jason sat up and tried to unwrap his foot which was still on the bed. As the phone continued to ring he looked over his shoulder. "Could you get that?"
Daniel said, "Oh, sure." He picked up the phone and listened.
"Uh, yeah. Everything's fine?Jason fell out of bed. Yep...We'll keep it down...We're going to sleep now?.Goodnight." He hung up the phone. "You want to explain what's going on?"
Jason limped over rubbing his knee. He took the book and straightened out the pages. "Listen to this."
In a monk's diary from the early 1600's are entries about an infamous character known only as Balboa.
Daniel sucked in his breath. "Balboa?" Jason's smile was smug. He read on.
June 10, 1603: The Indians told me today about a man they call Balboa who they say has been stealing gold from them and hiding it in the hills.
July 12, 1603: The heat was oppressive today. I retreated to the coolness of the cave in order to do my morning meditations. My thoughts were disturbed by the intrusion of a renegade conquistador. He was already drunk, or perhaps still drunk from the night before.
He blustered about waving his arms and bragging about the prowess of Balboa. I assume he meant himself. Around his neck was a heavy gold chain, and his hand bore a ring with a stone as black as his heart. Doubtless plunder from misfortunate natives. It was clear he was not a nobleman with wealth of his own.
I did not confront the villain, for a large sword hung at his side. I feared t
hat at any moment he would draw the weapon and end my labors on this earth. He soon wearied of my company and staggered out into the heat of the day. My heart was lightened to see him go.
August 2, 1603 - Daylight is fading and tonight my stomach is empty. My supper was stolen from me even as I sat down to the rare treat of freshly baked fish.
I had scarcely taken one bite when that ruffian Balboa burst through my door. With a boisterous laugh, he thanked me for his dinner and snatched my plate. Between mouthfuls he demanded bread and wine. When I declared I had none, he reached for his sword, but his scabbard was empty.
With a string of curses he swore revenge against the young beggars that had stolen his weapon. I noticed that his gold ring was also missing. His eyes gleamed with a wicked light as he declared that soon he would have enough gold to purchase the finest sword forged in the New World.
Throwing my plate on the floor, he wiped his mouth with his sleeve. With a warning that I should restock my larder, he stomped out into the night.
"You don't think he's talking about us do you?" Jason said.
"We didn't take his sword. He still had it when he wavered out on us."
Jason sighed with relief. "That's right. Wasn't us. Probably knew lots of beggars."
"What's the next entry?" Daniel said.
August 27, 1603: Balboa has once again entered my life to my great dismay. I do not know how many of the natives he has plundered, but at his side hung a new formidable weapon. He drew it with a great flourish and at sword point he took Plato, my burrow. I last saw them heading into the wilderness where I am told the Indians are not friendly.
I am now forced to carry my own firewood and water. My knees are weak, and my back is sore from the labor. Plato was a faithful beast and a comfort in my solitude. I fear for his fate at the hands of that madman.
September 15, 1603: Plato has returned! He was hungry and tired but nothing that rest and good feed will not cure. Balboa's sword was strapped to the bundle of provisions on his back. There was also one sack that was empty except for some small traces of gold dust in the bottom. Though I am thankful for the provisions, I am troubled to think that Balboa has met an untimely but just end.
The drone of the air conditioner was the only sound.
When Daniel spoke his voice came out cracked and dry. "Guess you're right about time travel. They're both there. Balboa and the monk. That would explain the girl by the pool too."
"But why in Haunted Cave?" Jason asked. "I mean, why not in the woods or in the mine?"
"Maybe they are in the woods. And in the mine. And maybe even here in our room," Daniel said.
Jason felt a chill up his back. He resisted the urge to look under the bed. Then he shook his head. "There would be more stories about sightings if they showed up everywhere. It has to be something about the cave. From what Standing Bear said, I think he knows about them. Maybe he's even seen some himself."
"We better get some sleep," Daniel said. "If Dad hears us still up he'll be annoyed."
Jason climbed back into bed. As he drifted off to sleep his dreams were crowded with conquistadors, monks, and an Indian girl.