Lost Treasure

The sun beat down upon the sand in glorious rays of golden heat, and Cassandra would have enjoyed the spectacular view of the white beach and blue ocean waves if her mouth didn’t feel like sandpaper and her skull wasn’t splitting with an excruciating headache.

Cass sat up slowly and turned her head from side-to-side; the beautiful white beach stretched for a short while in both directions before disappearing as the land swept behind her, leaving Cass at what looked like the tip of an arrow. Cass twisted to look directly behind her and saw several more feet of crisp, immaculate beach before it abruptly turned into a thick jungle of trees and vines. There was nobody else in sight any direction Cass looked, but she knew she desperately needed to get out of the beating sun.

Cass struggled to her feet and wobbled the short distance into the trees and immediately found the temperature increased, if anything, because of the humidity in the dense branches and palm leaves, but the shade was still a welcome reprieve on Cassandra’s burning forehead. She had no idea how long she had lain on the beach before awakening but she was pretty sure she had the beginning stages of heat stroke.

Cass tried to push deeper into the foliage, knowing that her headache was the least of her problems; her tongue was thickly swollen and her throat felt too dry to swallow. If she didn’t find some fresh, clean water, Cass was likely to feel much worse sooner rather than later. The vines and branches caught and twisted in her hair and Cass felt as if she was pushing against a wall of stone rather than a crop of palm trees. She didn’t know if she had the strength to continue fighting the forest and was debating risking the scorching sun to find a different route further along the beach, when the copse before her suddenly gave way and Cass fell forward into a small clearing.

Relief and gratefulness washed over her when she spotted a strong, deep stream cleaving its way through the leafy undergrowth of the clearing; Cass pushed broad leaves and ferns aside so she could take a long, quenching drink. The water was cold and refreshing, and Cass let out a long sigh of pleasure as the swelling in her throat and mouth subsided.

Once she felt full and her thirst satisfied, Cass sat for a long moment trying to remember what had happened. How had she ended up on this island, waking up alone on the beach? Her clothes were dry but sandy, but she didn’t know how long she’d lain in the sun so that might not mean anything. Had she been in a shipwreck and washed up on shore? Cass didn’t remember seeing any debris on the pristine beach, but then how else could she have gotten there?

Cass felt the first tendrils of fear creep down her spine- had she lost her memory? Did she still know who she was? She probed her mind and realized that she remembered where she lived, who her family was, her job and co-workers… in fact, the last thing Cass did remember was sitting in her office, eating a solitary lunch. How had she gotten here? She couldn’t remember being on a boat or anywhere near the ocean, let alone finding herself stranded on a beach.

Cass felt slightly reassured that she hadn’t lost all of her memory but a sparkling new terror washed over her seconds later: she was entirely alone, with no idea where she was, what kind of people or animals might be near her, or what dangers may lie just out of sight. Cass looked at the thick brush around her and wondered uneasily if she had been safer near the beach after all. She shifted to turn around when something half-buried in the dirt caught her eye; it was small, black and square, and after a moment of digging Cass unearthed a slim notebook.

Its cover was crusted in a layer of earth but when Cass flipped it open, the pages inside were flawlessly white and the pen clipped inside had a glossy sheen. Cass turned through the pages but was disappointed to find them all empty; she was hoping for a clue to where she was or how she had gotten there but the notebook had never been used… or so Cass thought until she got to nearly the end, and came across a striking drawing of a map.

The detailed map outlined a triangular-shaped island with what appeared to be two rivers or streams crossing through it, not passing over one another until they met on the island’s southeastern corner. If the mapmaker had drawn his sketch fairly accurately and to proportion, Cass guessed that she was likely on the northern tip of the island where the stream flowed closest to the beach before escaping to the sea.

Cass had even more questions than answers, but the notebook already felt like a friend in foreign territory. The map hadn’t labeled the island or its surrounding waters but Cass did notice a discreet, precise X drawn along the same stream she was sitting beside; it appeared to be a bit further into the jungle, and Cass knew the map might not be entirely accurate and that fighting her way through the tangled forest would be grueling, but her curiosity got the better of her. She didn’t want to be alone and scared, for one thing, and for another the X on the map strongly reminded her of tales of lost and buried treasures- and Cass couldn’t resist investigating further.

Cass brushed the dirt from the slim black notebook and tucked it into the waist of her pants before setting off into the underbrush. It was slightly easier following along the stream as it wound through the jungle floor, but the palms and ferns and leaves were still so thick and heavy it was difficult to find her footing and Cass nearly fell into the stream itself more than once. When she had journeyed deep enough into the jungle that the singing birds had drowned out the crashing ocean waves, Cass pulled the notebook out to study the map again; the creek appeared to take a turn southward and the tiny X sat just beside the bend.

She continued forward, sweltering in the heat of the jungle and batting vines and insects aside. The stream took a clear turn to the left and Cass stopped beside the water’s edge; this should be about the spot where the X had been marked. There wasn’t a soul in sight and Cass swallowed her disappointment. She wasn’t sure what she had hoped to find- but someone else had been here, had drawn this map, and had marked this spot.

Perhaps the mapmaker had left more information or clues behind; Cass studied the dirt beneath the heavy leaves and ferns but nothing seemed disturbed or out of place… except for a large, smooth rock sitting in the mud near the gurgling brook. There were no other rocks or stones nearby, and when Cass crept closer she spotted a faint, smudged X drawn on the bottom edge of the rock. She wanted the X to have been drawn in mud, but the reddish tint suggested it was blood.

Cass’ breath caught in her throat- she had actually found an X from a lost map on an island. She turned the stone over and used her hands to dig the soft earth underneath; after about four or five inches Cass’ fingers scraped something hard, and with another minute of eager shoveling Cass unearthed a small, metal box. Her heart beat in excitement as she scraped her filthy fingernails across the top and pried the box open. Inside were several bundles of cash, each wrapped with a thick rubber band.

Cass was completely flabbergasted. She hadn’t actually expected to find a buried treasure! She wiped as much mud from her hands onto her pants as she could and counted the bundles of cash. Twenty-thousand dollars. Cass had never seen, touched or held that much money in her life. She was stunned; she had found an actual lost treasure on an island… but she didn’t know where she was, how she had gotten there, or how to get home again.

Cass decided that for the time being, she ought to leave the money exactly where she found it. If she came across anyone else on the island she didn’t want an enemy just because she had a large wad of cash. And if there wasn’t anyone else… well, she couldn’t eat paper anyway. Cass tucked the money back into the box and stowed the box back in the ground, covering it with earth and then finally the large stone.

The notebook remained tucked in her pants while Cass tried to decide what to do next. She had water, and what she needed now was shelter and an escape plan. She knew her best bet would be to make some sort of sign or signal on the beach, and hope that passing ships or planes would spot it.

Cass spent the next few days crafting SOS messages in the sand and building a makeshift fort in the relative shelter of the jungle trees; she began chronicling her solitude and struggles in the previously empty pages of the notebook. Cass still hadn’t come across a single soul, and her lack of food was quickly becoming a dire situation. She had to escape the beach earlier everyday to rest exhaustedly in the shade of the trees, and she had yet to find a way to fish in the relentless ocean waves or come across a small animal she could catch and eat.

On her sixth day after wakening, Cass had a stroke of good fortune- she had wandered further down the beach than ever before, determined to find something before she ended up starving to death, and had come across a copse of coconut trees. It took an incredible amount of effort to knock down a few of the coconuts, and Cass almost gave up trying to split just one on a sharp rock, but finally she broke open the tough husk and was able to devour the sweet meat and juices within.

On the ninth day, Cass had another wonderful find. The second rivulet that joined her stream on the south end of the island was stronger and wider, and when she followed it deeper into the jungle she discovered pools full of fish, frogs and insects. Scooping fish out of the water with broad leaves turned out to be much easier than breaking into coconuts, but Cass couldn’t bring herself to eat them raw. The notebook described three days of failed efforts before Cass was finally able to light a fire with dry sticks and have cooked fish – her first real meal in nearly two weeks.

*

Missing person’s files had gone cold on the case of Cassandra Rhimes, who had disappeared six years earlier after a tragic deep-sea fishing accident threw her overboard. When a party came across her broadcasts for help on the deserted island they also, unfortunately, found the poor woman’s final remains.

Her family was grief-stricken to eventually hear of her demise, but also relieved to finally have the mystery of Cassandra’s disappearance solved. It had been torture to wonder for years where Cass was and whether she was even alive. Her parents received the only two objects that had been found with their daughter: a weathered and worn notebook full of nicks and scratches as if someone had ran a stick or fingernail across the pages, over and over again; and a beaten, crumpled metal box that held a few small rocks and shells. They held a memorial for their lost and perished daughter, laying Cassandra’s remains to rest with her last, cherished treasures.