The Legend of Harley Rose: Part 3

In the distance on the ocean, Stanley could see through his telescope an island with two biomes, lush rainforest and barren sands. The Widow Maker was sailing towards it, rocking in the waves at high speeds.

Stanley drew back his telescope and shouted down from the crow’s nest. “Cap’n!”

Montana leaned sideways from the massive wheel at the helm. “What it is, Stanley!”

“We’re approaching Snake Island, cap’n!”

Knox and Lincoln stood portside and looked down the bow of the ship. They saw the island growing nearer. “Bring her speed down, gents!” Montana ordered the crew. Boxer pulled on a rope with his large arms and let down a sail. “Boxer! Knox! Go in my quarters and fetch my chest!” Boxer and Knox sprinted away. “Stanley! Bring two torches to me!” Stanley climbed down the crow’s nest and hobble away.

Montana jumped down to the deck and approached Lincoln, slapping his shoulder. “Lincoln, I need you to come with me on the island.”

“Aye! But… why me?” Lincoln asked humbly.

“I’ll need help carrying that chest, gent, and I’ll need someone I can trust to bury it with me.”

“Someone you can trust?” Lincoln looked perplexed. “Captain, I mean no offense by this, but we’ve only just met.”

“That’s why you’re the man for the job,” Montana grinned. “I never trust someone that knows me, there’s always something they want in return and I’m not very savvy on giving things back. I need someone I can trust, though. After Samson thought up his little idea to come and steal the chest, I’d like to keep the location between you and me to ensure the Ghost Lady of the Sea accepts her invitation to dine with me in my quarters.”

Stanley hobbled up to Montana and handed him two torches. “Thank you, kindly,” Montana accepted the torches from Stanley.

Lincoln looked at them curiously. “Captain, it’s daytime.”

“Yes it is,” Montana agreed.

“Well, it’s too bright to be needing a torch.”

“These aren’t for light.” He extended a torch out for Lincoln. “There’s a reason it’s called Snake Island, gent.” Lincoln took the torch.

An anchor splashed in the ocean, sinking under the sea. The Widow Maker slowed to halt off the coast of Snake Island. Stanley and Boxer let down a small boat tethered to the starboard; Captain Montana and Lincoln sat in the boat with the treasure chest between them. The boat lowered into the water, making a splash on impact. Montana and Lincoln took and oar in the each hand and rowed towards shore.

Captain Montana and Lincoln held up two rods that hooked through either side of the treasure chest with each of the burning torches mounted inside a ring at the end of the rod. Attached to the side of the chest were two hooks, where a shovel rested upon. Montana led the way as Lincoln peered over top the chest to follow him. They walked up a sandy bank and into the jungle. The jungle was lush and humid, with tropical flora brushing against their bodies with every step.

Lincoln was already starting to sweat. “Captain.”

Montana titled his neck back to hear him. “Hmm?”

“Captain, how far are we going?”

“Until there’s a good spot to bury it.”

“And where… where is that, captain?” Lincoln was beginning to pant.

“Some place we can remember, gent. A couple of tall trees or a big rock, something recognizable – and not something that can go away like pretty colored leaf.”

“But… cap… captain…”

“Hmm?”

“Why don’t we just bury it in the sand back on shore?”

“That’s too easy, gent!”

Lincoln’s face dropped in exhaustion. “Too easy?”

“It’ll be too easy to find! You don’t just bury treasure to keep it out of the sun, gent. You bury it to hide it. And it’s got to be hidden in a place where—”

“Captain… captain, why…” Lincoln interrupted, panting heavily. “But why do we need to hide it if we’re just… just burying it to… to summon… to summon Harley Rose… captain?”

There was a brief pause. Montana looked back and flashed a smile. “I still want my treasure back when this is all done. Can’t have some scallywag come across it!”

“Captain, we’re on Snake Island! I don’t think some random bystander will—” just then a viper dropped down from the tree and snapped its jaw at Lincoln, hanging from a branch up above. Montana and Lincoln dropped the chest, Lincoln fell back in fright. The viper held its mouth open; venom dripped from the fangs as it hissed. It lurked closer to Lincoln, arching its neck. Montana grabbed his torch and whacked the viper with the flame. The viper writhed in pain and coiled back up the tree.

Lincoln stared at the mass of leaves above, wondering where the viper had disappeared to. Montana came towards Lincoln. “You alright?”

“Yeah. Just a shock, that’s all.”

Montana extended his hand out to Lincoln. “You might want to get up.”

Lincoln looked to his left and saw three snakes slithering beside him. Lincoln grabbed Montana’s arm quickly and yanked himself off the ground. Lincoln then saw on the ground were dozens snakes slithering everywhere. “How long have we been walking over them?” Lincoln shouted.

“About the whole time,” Montana figured.

“The whole time?” Lincoln’s eyes widened.

“I don’t know what you expected, gent, from a place called Snake Island.” He smiled at Lincoln. “Onward!”

Montana and Lincoln trekked through the jungle, swiping their torches at trees and vines to fend off curious and angry snakes. They passed through a large elephant leaf and found a pair of twin ebony rocks. Montana smiled wide. “Perfect.”

They walked towards the twin rocks and dropped the chest nearby. Montana unhooked the shovel and removed a torch. He held them up in each hand and faced Lincoln. “Your choice, gent.” Lincoln looked at both options. He took the torch.

Montana walked between the twin rocks and cut through the dirt with the spade, throwing up the first mound of earth and piling it behind himself. Lincoln surveyed the ground and trees for snakes, gently waving the torch back and forth.

Lincoln glanced back at Montana, who had made quick progress already, “Captain.”

Montana threw a clump of dirt behind him, “What is it?”

Lincoln spotted a snake slithering by. He brandished the torch to it, making the snake hiss and slither away. “After we bury this treasure, and Harley Rose finds you, how do you plan on catching her?”

“Ruby,” Montana shouted back.

“What?”

“A ruby shackle. I’ve heard from a few people, through misfortunate experiences of their own, that one can catch a ghost with ruby. The gent said ghosts can’t pass through ruby.” Montana was knee deep in the hole he had dug.

“And you have ruby shackles, then?”

“Not shackles. A ruby shackle.”

“Why do you only have one ruby shackle?”

“Because they’re expensive.”

Lincoln waved at the ground, sending another snake away with his torch. “So, then, captain,” he inquired, “What happens after you catch the Ghost Lady?”

“We burn her!” Montana cheered.

“Burn her? How do you burn a ghost, captain?”

“Legends say that if a flame glows blue it will catch the ghost on fire, and blue flame will send the ghost back to its resting place. Which, in this case, would be her grotto.”

“You know a lot about ghost catching, captain.”

“Actually, I know nothing.” Montana sprung up from the hole and walked to chest and stood beside Lincoln. “It’s everyone else who knows everything. I simply ask everything, and in the end I’ve learned everything.”

Lincoln looked at Montana accusingly. “So you’ve never actually caught a ghost, then?”

“Never,” he smiled wide.

“So you don’t even know if any of this works, do you?”

“Not at all.”

Lincoln lowered the torch in disappointment. “So what happens if none of this works?”

“Ah, but it will.” Montana said confidently. Lincoln raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “Like I said, gent,” Montana reminded him, “if one story’s true, they’re all true.” Montana squatted down and grabbed the rods on either end of the chest. Lincoln stared at him. Montana nodded at the chest. “Come on, gent!” Lincoln shook his head and grabbed the rods.

They lowered chest where the rods suspended it above the hole. Montana came around to Lincoln’s side and grabbed a single rod with both hands. Lincoln grabbed the other and they pulled hard, sliding the rods out of the chest and dropping the chest into the hole. Montana grabbed the shovel and buried the chest.

Back aboard the Widow Maker, Boxer and Stanley were pushing a large, metal brazier towards the end of the bow. Lincoln stood beside Knox and watched the men, pushing his mouth to the side in thought. Captain Montana exited his quarters and was carrying the crate Stanley brought aboard. He dropped it beside the brazier and unsheathed his rapier attached to his hip. He slid the blade inside the crate and cracked it open; he and Boxer lifted it off. Montana looked down and saw a ruby shackled resting on top of a mound of crystalized copper. He gently picked up the shackle and examined it with wonder. Boxer and Stanley lifted the crate and dumped the crystalized copper in the brazier, filling it up.

Lincoln looked at the floor then up at Knox. “Knox,” he whispered.

“Aye?” Knox grumbled back.

“I’m starting to wonder if Samson was right. Perhaps the captain is crazy and none of this is real.”

“What makes you believe that, mate?”

“Well,” Lincoln kept his voice low. “I asked the captain about all of that there,” he pointed at the brazier and the shackle, “and he said he didn’t know if any of it was going to work.”

“No?”

“He says he’s never caught a ghost before. In fact, I don’t even believe he’s a seen a ghost. He's got all these rumors about this and that, trying to set a ghost on fire... Knox, I think he might be making it all up. In fact, Knox, where did you hear about Harley Rose?”

Knox turned his head, realizing the truth. “From an old drinking buddy that sailed with Montana Ross for a month. Says he's been trying to assemble a crew for some time now, but no one believed him.” Knox looked back at the scene and realized how giddy the captain seemed about the ruby shackle. “Aye. He does seem a bit off, doesn’t he?”

“Remember Samson’s idea? Taking a small ship and digging up his treasure on our own? I can take us, mate. I know where it is.”

“Aye, matey, you do know where he buried his treasure,” Knox grumbled excitedly.

Montana approached Knox and Lincoln with a wide, pearly white smile. He held up the shackle like a prize. “Look at it, gents. The key to every treasure chest that’s ever been lost.” Knox and Lincoln pretended to be impressed. “Once I have my date with Harley, we’ll set sail for the island of Caraloque, with the Ghost Lady as our guide.”

“Captain, I have a question,” Lincoln asked intrusively. “When would you expect to encounter this ghost?”

“I believe she’ll come tonight,” he said proudly.

“Tonight?”

“Tonight, gents. We’ll dock outside of town and I’ll find a tavern filled with a hundred women. That’s where she’ll find me.” A smile curled under his twisted mustache.

“Is this part of the legend, Captain Montana? Meeting her in a tavern?”

“No, this is just my own idea,” he admitted. “But she’ll find me! And I’ll be waiting.” He walked away, still admiring the ruby shackle, as he entered back into his quarters.

Lincoln leaned over to Knox, “And if she doesn’t come tonight, we’ll leave.”

“Aye,” Knox agreed, “we’ll leave with all his treasure.”