Chapter 10
I invited the Crain's to move farther up the beach to get away from the dead pirates. While they were doing that, I grabbed up the pirates weapons; three AK is a shotgun, a rusty bolt-action rifle, and a couple pistols. I also relieved them of the contents of their pockets, being an avid "gamer" you always did that whenever you shot anyone. I collected boat keys, some loose change, the joints and coke I left with them; all told, I scarfed up fifty dollars in Jamaican and US money. When I re-joined the Crain's, Emma was sitting with them telling of how we came to this island.
"You two saved our lives," said Mr. Crain, we would be most honored to return you back to your families, originally we sailed from Georgetown in the Cayman's, the pirates tricked us with a ruse, claiming to be fisherman with a dying man on board, when we got near, we were suddenly boarded and overcome." "Are there anymore out there?" I asked. Crain shook his head, "No, thank God! They were hopped up on dope and alcohol, according to the captain; they were really going to have a party." At that point, Mrs. Crain started crying, until Mr. Crain had to comfort her. "Which one is the captain?" I asked. "That guy with the Jimmy Buffet Parrot head, shirt on." He was the one with the keys, the Parrot head shirt now soaked with blood.
"We'll be heading back to Georgetown," said Mr. Crain, but if you like we could take you to Kingston." "If you don't mind," I replied. Then I had a thought, Mr. Crain could I ask a favor of you, it might be kinda dangerous, but I'd really appreciate it." "What is it son," he replied. "Uh well, Emma and I found a cave that had apparently been used to store a bunch of rifles, M1 carbines and .45 caliber Colt auto's in. I think it dates back to the Bay of Pigs days, maybe the CIA hid them there, but maybe someone else did. Anyway, they've been there for a long time. They're no doubt worth a lot of money. I would like to sell them, save for a carbine and a pistol, and split the money with Emma, and use it for college." "How many guns are we talking about," asked Mr. Crain.
"Let's see, there's twelve carbines, and six Colt Auto's plus these AK's but since they're all full auto weapons, I can't legally deal with them, although if I could get this one back I'd hang onto it."
"They're pretty tough on gunrunning in these islands," observed Mr. Crain, "Especially the Bahamas, and the Virgin Islands, but considering what you two did for us, I think I might be able to help. I have a friend, you see…"
We all ended up taking one of the small boats out to the Crain's yacht, which the pirates had started to trash. While Emma helped Mrs. Crain and her daughter, clean things up, Mr. Crain and I went over to the pirates "fishing boat" to look for the belongings and property that the pirates had stolen from the Crain's. We recovered all the money as well as food and clothing they had taken, along with jewelry. I found a pair of tiger stripes like Em had as well as a black tee shirt, and "boonie" hat. When we were finished, Mr. Crain dumped a can of diesel fuel below decks and just before, we boarded the small boat, tossed a torch down there. Halfway back to the yacht we watched as flames started roaring up from below. By the time we were back aboard the yacht, the pirate boat was completely on fire.
Mr. Crain told us it would be a little bit before he could leave, but I told him, "We've got to go get those guns, as well as take care of a few other things, there's a small beach on the east side of the island, well meet you there, as you sail past our cave, which is on a sort of cliff, I'll fire a signal flare into the air, you should see us all right. We will then meet you down at the beach."
Mr. Crain took Emma and I back to the island, where we quickly headed back to our cave. As we passed the lagoon, I stopped. Turning to Em, I said, "How 'bout it prom queen, one more time, we'll make it a "quickie" OK? She smiled as both of us took off our clothes and held hands as we waded out into the blue water. Standing under the waterfall, we held each other close, and kissed. Although we were glad to be leaving the island, both of us were sad at having to leave the lagoon. Many happy moments were spent here, as well as memories made. We were "under the gun," as far as time went, but we made the few minutes we spent locked in a lover's embrace, seem like an hour.
Climbing the path for the last time, I spotted the Crain's yacht coming into view. Once he was a little closer, I fired the flare pistol into the air. I saw them wave through my binoculars. Quickly Em and I grabbed the stuff we had planned to take with us. I left four of the Pirates AK's as well as the pistols and ammunition on a shelf in the cave. We stuffed the blankets and other bedding into the cooler to protect it from mice. Both of us had decided to do this for the "next" castaways who might find themselves on this island. As we stood in our "home," Emma and I stopped to take one last look around. We were happy to be leaving, but at the same time, we felt sad thinking of all the memories created in this cave. Everything had been "tidied" up and the weapons placed where they wouldn't get ruined with rust. "Take a good look around Em," I said, we'll be thinking of this place for the rest of our lives." I made sure the door was closed tightly, as well as the vines we had tied aside were back over the entrance. Both of us then said goodbye to our former "home" and headed for the beach. We carried several weapons over our shoulders, with the rest tightly rolled up in a plastic sheet around a long pole, which made it easier to carry all of them at once.
Mr. Crain was waiting for us, and helped to stow all our stuff in the boat. As we headed out to the yacht, both Emma and I kept our eyes fixed on the island. Mr. Crain and I stripped down all the guns for easier "hiding" on the boat, in places behind the paneling, and under the floor. He had offered to buy a carbine as well as a pistol to keep on the yacht and said he would cut me a check for $3500.00 dollars when we reached Georgetown. While we sat and talked Emma spent time with Stacy, who was still shaken up by what had almost happened to them.
That night as Emma and I lay in bed, (the Crain's said nothing about it) I said to her, "Well prom queen, vacations over, back to the "grind" looking sad, she only nodded. "Mom's going to be all over me asking about what we did all this time, my sister as well." "That's another thing," I said. "I don't know what your thoughts are about it, but I like my privacy, and except for the obvious fact that we love each other, I figure what happened on that island stays on that island. I'm sure we're going to be bombarded by reporters and other professional "snoops" wanting to know what went on for three months, but I have no intention of saying anything." "Not even to your dad?" she asked. I shrugged, "If he asks I suppose, I asked Mr. Crain not to mention anything other than the part about us shooting the pirates, can't avoid that I suppose. But, I told him some other stuff we did, but asked him to keep that part quiet
"Are you going to say anything to your friends?" she asked. I guffawed, "Fuck no, like I told you, what we did on that island was private, strictly between you and I, now I can't tell you what to say to your friends, but I'm not saying a word." We then put our arms around each other and hugged each other, Emma then whispered, "Wouldn't you call this a special occasion?" I looked into her eyes, "Yeah, probably the best, why?" She held up a single foil packet, and giggled, "Remember what I said about saving the last one?" "You're incredible prom queen," I whispered, as I turned off the wall lamp.
We arrived in Kingston the next day, calls home brought immediate response. Apparently, my dad and Emma's mom had spent considerable time down here looking for us, but eventually the search was called off. We were declared, "lost at sea as were the others, the aircraft having never been found save for a little wreckage. Dad had even spent his own money on hiring a private helicopter to search, but he had work obligations to deal with so last month both had given up and returned home.
Our parents purchased airline tickets home, but while we were waiting for the flight to leave, I talked with the Crain's who thanked up once again for saving their lives. Mr. Crain assured me that he's take care of our "treasure." I'll see that you receive the carbine the AK and the .45 by Fed-Ex, as for the rest, I'll see that you two get a nice check. I gave him my e-mail address as well as street address, and shook his hand one last time.
In a lot of ways, I felt like a soldier returning home from a war. There was the feeling of having done something grand, and life changing, the crowd waiting for us when we arrived back in Detroit, the TV cameras, the hugs from my dad, I didn't get much time with Emma after that, as she was soon swept up with her family and friends. It looked like we would have to make up the three months of school we missed, plus a lot of other bullshit that goes along with suddenly showing up after being declared "dead." Emma's mom threw a homecoming party, and although I went to it, I barely got a moment with her. I ended up talking with her sister more than Emma, her mom acted a bit cool towards me, and as predicted, my friends wanted to know all the "lurid" details of life on a deserted island with a girl like Emma. When I wouldn't tell them anything, they soon grew bored and left me alone. Dad didn't really ask me anything about what we did on the island, so I had no cause to tell him. Emma later told me her mom just kept giving her this pitiful looks but asked her nothing as well, probably afraid to.
A week later, for the next three days I got a large package from Fed-Ex, first the carbine, then the .45 and finally the AK, which I immediately hid in the garage. I also got an e-mail from Mr. Crain telling me his collector friend went wild with excitement when he saw what I had found. I received a letter a few days later from a Mr. Alexander telling me about the weapons I had found. There were eight Winchester's among the "collection, "including mine, apparently highly sought after. Some of the others were made by Rock-Ola, the jukebox manufacturer all the weapons were late WW2 manufacture, with matching serial numbered parts. He went into a lot more detail about my "find" and promised a nice check out of it. Just when I started to wonder I I was being "ripped off," A registered letter arrived containing a certified check for $13,600.00 I almost fell on the floor. When dad came home that evening, I showed him the check and said, "Dad, we need to talk."
I told him only what he needed to know, obviously I had to mention the pirates, Mr. Crain had told the press about our having rescued them, but I got the impression people thought we merely chased them away. I didn't go into all the gory details, but I always thought dad suspected more, but just didn't want to go down that road. A couple days later at school, I caught Emma at lunch surrounded by her bitchy friends who gave me the stink eye for daring to approach them, and handed Emma a check for her share of the gun sales. When she saw how much it was, she tried to stop me, but by then I was down the hall. After that, I got a couple calls from her but didn't answer, after awhile the calls and tweets stopped.