Treasure of the Sidons

Three generations of Sidons would’ve given any amount of money to be where Ramsey Sidon was now. There was nothing particularly spectacular about where the latest of the Sidon line was standing – a large trading ship such as was common in his era surrounded by nothing but blue for miles in any direction – but it was the destination of this journey that had attracted a century of the Sidon family.

“How much farther, Mr. Solomon?”

“Ye can’t e’er tell with that confounded map of yours,” returned the all-to-familiar, short-tempered voice of the sea captain. “What’s marked as five leagues takes a day, what should be a day’s trip is accomplished in a third the time. And I just say, you had better be sure the coordinates are true or we’ll be at our deaths in no time.”

“You just be sure you follow them aright, Midas,” replied Ramsey calmly. Captain Midas Solomon refrained from complaint there; after all Mr. Sidon was paying him well. That was why no other Sidon had yet been able to stand in Ramsey’s place.

The Sidons had had a history of squandering money since Ramsey’s great-great-grandfather. That Sidon, Saiper Sidon, had been extremely resourceful and possessed a sizeable estate just north of London. It was his son that caused the trouble; James Sidon fell significantly short of his father’s financial prowess, spending money like it grew on trees. Saiper knew this and understood that if his son inherited his fortune, it would be lost forever. Instead, Saiper liquidated almost everything he had into gold and bought a tiny island of the coast off Central America. The remainder of his fortune was shipped to the uninhabited island and left there. Eventually, Saiper Sidon did die, and his son was shocked to discover he inherited nothing more than a map and an island he had no way of getting to. Neither he nor any of his children would be able to acquire the treasure until they proved thrifty enough to fund an expedition for it. None had even come close until Ramsey Sidon.

Ramsey seemed to have been born apart from his family tree. From childhood, he had always dreamed of retrieving the lost family fortune. As an adult he studied and mimicked the actions of London’s most successful businessmen. For all his efforts, however, some people might have considered Ramsey the least likely Sidon to “strike it rich” for all the risks he took: gambling with unlikely investments, buying and selling like mad, not to mention more than one instance that might have impounded him had the slightest thing gone wrong. And yet, through it all, miserly and adventurous all at once, Ramsey Sidon was able to gain a more-than-reasonable account for himself. But Ramsey Sidon had a greater wealth in mind: the wealth of his great-great-grandfather. For that goal, he gathered a crew, borrowed a ship, and left for Central American waters with his only family heirloom – a worn and yellowed map.

Ramsey reached deep into his pocket to touch that precious map. It had the same substantial, papery feel as a roll of well-worn bills. A gruff voice took him from considering this irony any further.

“Mr. Sidon, there’s a storm brewin’.” Ramsey turned coldly to face the captain.

“And what would you like me to do about it?” he hissed.

“Well, Sidon, I was merely thinkin’ ye’d be int’rested to know there’s a secure isle of a mile south that we could anchor at to wait it out, if you please, sir,” he said sardonically.

Ramsey came right back. “Well I don’t please, sir. We’re less than ten leagues from my isle, Solomon. And besides, you act as though we’ve not yet been through a storm on this expedition.”

“Mad man! Just look to the east!” the captain cried. He’d been hanging on the end of his rope with this fellow long enough. For all that, however, Ramsey did look, and if for only a moment, he felt like shuddering. There was a strange purple mass in the distance, swirling and turbulent, but just barely visible over the horizon. That was the fact that soothed Ramsey and once he drew his eyes away, he spoke to the captain once more.

“That’s what you’re worried of? We could beat that to the island and on to strange Panama if we wanted, Captain. Continue! I want this journey finished by sundown! If you make a single stop, you’ll never sail this planet again. Now batten the mast and hoist the levees or whatever it is you do to get us moving faster!” After this rant, Ramsey turned abruptly back to the forward rail and looked eagerly westward. This prevented him from seeing the enraged expression on Midas Solomon’s face, or the forward step he took with every intention of shoving his employer overboard. Lucky for Ramsey, however, Midas realized he had to keep his head about him if he or his crew wished to survive this cursed treasure hunt. Orders were given (quite clearly) to batten the hatches and hoist the sails, but be prepared to take them down when storm hit. With every man in position and Ramsey Sidon tucked safely away in his cabin to play with his piece of paper, the crew prepared for war.

***

War came. Even in his wildest envisioning, Ramsey had not pictured this; every sail was stowed to cut the wind resistance. The ship could not make any progress, just hurl and heave where the waves willed it. Water crashed in from every side.

“I warned ye, Sidon!” cried Midas, struggling helplessly at the wheel. “We can’t beat ‘er out, and your island is nowhere in sight!”

CRACK!

Ramsey had just opened his mouth to defend his pride and purpose when the lightning struck; even if he’d had the breath to say anything, it would not have been heard over the thunder, a deafening sound like nothing the sailors had ever heard before. When they all came to their senses, all that the men noticed was the orange light glimmering above.

“Fire!” came the cry. It lit the main mast and spread so quickly it seemed the very rain was fueling it. It was here that Ramsey Sidon sprung into action.

“No!” he cried. “We’re too close! I won’t be taken down here!” without a word more and before anyone could stop him, he began climbing the rigging, a cumbersome pail of water in one hand. Where the rigging ended, near the flames, he threw his burden on the scorching flame. He was crazy, for sure! But the, he was the one with an idea, wasn’t he? The crew joined in to help until they had a fair line of men on the rigging exchanging full pails in true brigade fashion. Struggling at the wheel, Captain Solomon looked on in wonder. The crazy man just may win this battle; maybe today, they would find the treasure.

No sooner had he completely this thought than that possibility was denied in whole. Another cracking sound resounded, at the base of the mast this time. Men began scampering off the rigging like roaches in the sunlight once they realized what was happening. The main mast creaked slowly and toppled in the wind. Wood splintered, flames leapt, and then the voice of the captain rang out.

“It’s lost, men! Abandon ship!” cried Midas, fleeing from the wheel himself. The crew followed him to the life boats as they prepared to take orders.

“No! NO!” came Sidon’s voice. “Not so close! You can’t! You’re MY crew!” No one listened, though one did hear.

“Sidon, get on!” Midas cried, beckoning the crazy-looking man standing alone on the deck.

“Never!” Sidon retreated up the stairs of the ship’s deck, and stood by the wheel struggling to get a grip on it.

“Sidon, ye’ll perish!”

Ramsey just laughed. That was when Midas truly realized what he was dealing with. At his signal, the life boats were released into the water with a jolt, leaving Ramsey Sidon and the ship far behind.

***

The ship was sinking fast an hour later, but Ramsey Sidon was too intoxicated by his own delusions of splendor to notice. He laughed hysterically at the first glimpse of land; his hysteria turned to rapture as it came closer. Soon it seemed all Ramsey could see was trees and sand. The ship lurched forward with a jerk; Ramsey, who had long since left the steering wheel, was thrown over the railing and into the storm. Then, there was darkness.

***

The soft sound of the waves coupled by their salty smell was the first thing Ramsey Sidon became aware of the next morning. He slowly rose to his feet, feeling groggy, yet thinking clearly for what seemed like the first time ever. The sky overhead was clear as daylight and sapphire in tone, but even its glory paled in comparison with the island itself. Ramsey stared in awe – fruit trees, palms, and ferns. It was a true living habitat, even with an icy cool spring; a man could survive here for decades. And littered all around – among the plants in stacks and piles like something out of a storybook illustration – there was gold.

Ramsey Sidon was the first of the Sidon line to acquire the gold of Saiper Sidon. With this thought came dances, yelps of joy, and victory cries from Ramsey. Of course, he would eventually turn around and see also the barren blue sea, and a ship run aground and ruined. And somewhere, floating in the wreckage, he would find a worn, yellow piece of parchment –the only parchment with any coordinates for Sidon’s Isle – ruined and useless.