Read Love's Paradise Online

Authors: Celeste O. Norfleet

Love's Paradise (15 page)

Chapter 17

T
heir second night together was beyond amazing. Sheri still couldn't believe she'd fainted. As usual she woke up just before her alarm went off. She reached over and turned it off then gazed down at the man in her bed. She smiled. He was still asleep and he was gorgeous. After they'd made love the last time, she could see he was exhausted. She was on top. When they finally achieved sexual rapture, she collapsed on his chest and they both fell asleep. Now, there was no way she was going to wake him up. She showered, dressed, left a note for him to join her later, made a pot of coffee and went to work.

Saturdays at the museum were usually busy.
Sheri arrived early, knowing it was going to be crazy. Jordan called twice, but she missed both calls and didn't have time to call him back. By late morning, the activities of the day had been a complete blur. The museum was crowded from morning to early afternoon. There were four busloads of visitors, a Girl Scout troop and a senior-citizens group. Add to that, three docents called in sick. Sheri was happy to pitch in and help give tours, but this certainly wasn't what she'd planned to do all morning.

She welcomed the Girl Scout troop at the front entrance and escorted them to the main exhibit area. She introduced herself and asked if anyone had been to the museum before or had questions before the tour started. With no replies she began the tour in the main exhibit hall. She showed them pictures of the
Mabella Louisa
and gave them a general idea of events at the time the ship was seagoing.

The Girl Scouts were interested for the most part. But as the tour wound down, she noticed the group had become extremely quiet and reserved. She opened one of the glass cases and demonstrated the workings of some of the artifacts. She allowed a couple of the girls to come up and touch the items.

“What is it?”

“It's a cannonball,” Sheri said.

“Aren't they supposed to be bigger?”

“Actually this one is a lot heavier than it ap
pears. This kind was specifically designed to attack smaller ships at close range. Would anyone like to hold it?” Every one of the scouts raised their hands. Some even jumped eagerly. Sheri smiled and waded through the throng of now eager listeners. A short while later she put the ball back in its case. The girls were astonished to feel how heavy a cannonball was. After that the questions flowed like water.

Several girls wanted to know if she got to play with any of the items in the display cases and others wanted to know how long it took to collect everything.

“That's a good question,” she responded. She explained that as a historian she was mainly responsible for authenticating the museum's collections and keeping them in as good a condition as possible. She talked about all the records she kept and relayed several stories from journals and diaries she'd read. They loved the stories about everyday life on Crescent Island, and how as a new settlement the inhabitants lived and defended their land.

“The museum's collections are comprised of borrowed and donated items, as well as gifts from patrons. We have over five thousand artistic, cultural and historical items found both here on Crescent Island and also on mainland Virginia. Our goal is to promote educational awareness through these collections and many others.”

“How do you borrow the items? Is it like a library and anybody can borrow them?”

“That's a good question. No. Not everyone can borrow items in the museum's collections because they're very special to our history. It's a very long and complicated process to borrow something from us. This is a small museum and if we lent out everything we'd have nothing to show you when you visit. So we are very particular about what artifacts we lend.”

“So do you own everything here?”

“Actually some of the exhibits do belong to the museum. What you saw in the main exhibit hall, the
Mabella Louisa,
is an example of a permanent exhibit that belongs to this museum. In reality it is on permanent loan. The pieces of the ship were found and donated by a very brilliant and generous man. His name was Nicholas Rantone. He was my great-grandfather.”

“How did he find the items?”

Sheri turned and looked up toward the back of the exhibit, as did everyone else in the small group. Jordan stood leaning against a wall looking at her. “Good afternoon,” she said. “Welcome. I'm glad you came.”

There was a hush as the girls began to giggle and look from Jordan to Sheri excitedly. “To answer your question, Nicholas Rantone's family came to this island shortly after it was settled in 1868. His
family bought land and, as a teenager, he started collecting the things he found on the beach and at the inlet. That collection grew to become very large—too large to just keep in an old shed.

“He went to his good friend, Jonah Gates, a member of one of the founding families. They went to the city leaders and proposed building a structure to house the collection. The city officials agreed. Nicholas built it here on this site that became the museum. He brought everything he'd collected over the years and displayed the items for everyone to see. Jonah contributed his family heirlooms as well. Those original pieces were the beginning of this island's museum and the basis for its history.”

She saw Jordan nodding his head. She hoped that he was finally beginning to understand the importance of collecting and keeping Crescent Island's history.

“Do you get stuff from other museums?”

“Yes, sometimes we request parts of exhibits from other museums. It's an exchange. We borrow and we lend. That way everyone gets to see and experience the treasures of the past.”

“What kind of treasures?”

She smiled happily. “There are all kinds of treasure, some more valuable in people's eyes than gold and silver. Yes, we do have coins and jewels, but
more importantly we have history. Are there any more questions?” she asked, looking around.

“Yes, I have another question. Do you enjoy being an historian?”

“Yes, I do, very much. Okay, perhaps we'd better continue with our tour.” Sheri spent the next forty-five minutes walking the museum and telling the Girl Scouts about the various exhibits and displays. She glanced up from time to time to see Jordan watching her attentively. When the tour ended and the group arrived back at the main floor she thanked them and invited them to come again soon. They cheered and applauded.

As soon as they left she looked around for Jordan. She found him in the main exhibit hall reading the ship's manifesto from the
Mabella Louisa
exhibit. She walked over to him. “Welcome again. Thank you for coming.” she whispered.

He turned to her. “I'm enjoying the exhibit. Your talk was very enlightening. Nicholas was your great-grandfather?” She nodded. “So history does run in your family. Nicholas was the original builder and founder and your grandmother is a folklorist and clairvoyant.”

“Yes. I am very connected to this place. Most of the items are found in various sites around the island. They're still being found.”

He looked up and around the building. “I walked
around the building before I joined your tour group. It's very old and very decrepit,” he said softly.

“Maybe a little,” she confessed.

“No, maybe a lot,” he said firmly. “The lighting system downstairs flickers and the heating and air-conditioning systems are completely shot. The foundation is crumbling and I don't even want to discuss the fire code violations.”

“Sometimes it seems the building is falling down on our heads, literally. But it's all we have to keep the history of this island alive.”

“You need more.”

“Maybe one day,” she said wistfully. Sheri watched Jordan as he strolled around the exhibit hall. “Find this interesting?” she said hopefully.

He nodded. “What exactly is an S-U-R?”

“An S-U-R is a ship of unknown registry. In the case of the
Mabella Louisa
it was a merchant ship lost in the late eighteen hundreds. It was sold after the Civil War to abolitionists and given to freedmen hoping to go back to their families in Africa. Unfortunately the ship was old and worthless. The people who sold it knew it would barely leave the harbor. But it did. The freedmen sailed down the bay and that's where the vessel began to take on water. Fearing for their lives they headed to the closest landmass, Crescent Island. This is where they landed.”

“The ship sank off the coast?”

“Later, yes,” said Sheri.

“And what about the
Crescent?
” Jordan asked. “The
Crescent
was the sister ship. It left later. Historians believe it made it to Africa.”

“You don't believe that, do you?” Jordan said.

“No. I believe it sank off Crescent Point. The search for ships that were part of the American Colonization Society's repatriation movement—where freed slaves returned to Africa and formed the country of Liberia—is practically nonexistent since most shipwreck dive searches are looking for lost treasure. There wasn't a lot of treasure on a ship carrying freed slaves.”

“Why is the
Crescent
so important?”

“It's history. It's our history—every man, woman and child on this island and in this country.” She looked over as the group of seniors arrived. “I have another tour to give.”

“Mind if I tag along?”

“Yes.”

He smiled. She knew he was going to accompany the group anyway. She began the tour the same way, with the same exhibit, but everything else was different. She engaged the elderly museum goers more and they loved it. When the tour ended forty minutes later, she walked them to the museum entrance and returned to see Jordan still standing behind her.

“Thank you for the tour. It was enlightening.”

“Are you going to hang around town this weekend?” she asked.

“Yes, I'm gonna stop by Tony Gates's antique shop.”

She smiled. “Okay, see you later. Tell Tony I said hi.”

“Tony and Raymond are friends of yours?” he asked.

“They're like my big brothers. We all grew up and hung out together. My brothers Daniel and Mark are their best friends. I was the pesky little sister that constantly tattled on them.”

He nodded. “See you later.”

Sheri walked him to the museum exit and went back to her office. She still had a full day ahead of her.

 

Jordan grabbed a small box from his trunk and walked down the street toward the center of town. He crossed when he saw the antique shop up ahead. Gates Antiques Limited was actually two redbrick buildings side by side. One was a gallery for local artists and artisans, and the other was an antique shop. Both were a lot bigger and busier than he'd expected. He opened the door and walked in. A large man with thick muscles, a beer belly and a receding hairline looked up and greeted him. He sat behind the front counter with his eyes glued to a computer monitor. The other people in the shop
were already being helped, so he walked over to the hefty man.

“Welcome to Crescent Island. Jerry Duncan, store manager. How can I help you today?” he said.

“Is Tony Gates around?”

“Hold on, let me check.” He picked up the phone and asked the person on the other end about Tony's whereabouts. He nodded and hung up. “Tony will be right down. Have a look around while you're waiting.”

“Thanks.” Jordan did just that. He was astounded by the collection of gems, precious stones, coins and well-preserved nineteenth-century-era artifacts. Each item seemed to have a unique story and historical value attached to it. Some items were so rare they weren't for sale. One in particular caught his eye. It was a simple gold band with a cluster of red stones on top sitting in a small wooden box. Jordan leaned down to read the small card. The box was called Sheba.

Tony walked up and stood beside Jordan. “Stunning, isn't it?” he said, looking at the precious gem in the display case. He smiled knowingly.

Jordan turned and extended his hand. The two men shook and greeted each other. Tony welcomed Jordan to his shop. Jordan turned back to the beautiful treasure. “This is gorgeous.”

Tony nodded. “Yes, it is.”

“Where did you find it?”

“I was in North Africa on a buying trip and I visited an old Moorish monastery on the border of Morocco and Algeria. The land was sold to a developer. It was about to be demolished and everything had to be sold. I met with the caretaker of the monastery. We talked and I saw the things he had for sale. I purchased everything, including the iron gates to the monastery. But this I found just sitting on a shelf. I opened it and discovered an old ring encrusted with dirt. I could barely make out the design, but I knew it was the real thing. The caretaker told me that the ring was given to the Queen of Sheba by King Solomon in biblical times.”

“Wait, you mean
the
Queen of Sheba and
the
King Solomon?”

Tony nodded. “I know, I thought the same thing. The man had to be crazy or something. Still, I bought it anyway and had it authenticated by a friend at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. The results were astonishing. They identified the type of metal and the wooden box it came in and my jaw dropped.”

Jordan looked back at the case. “What is it?”

“They checked, double-checked and then triple-checked. The wood is called almug. It's been extinct now for over two thousand years and was primarily indigenous to Middle Eastern countries. The almug tree is mentioned in the Old Testament and is believed to have been used in building Solo
mon's Temple. The Metropolitan Museum made an offer for it.”

“You didn't sell it or donate it?”

“It's no longer mine. I gave it to my wife on our wedding day. Her sister, Kennedy, and Sheri handle loaning it out for her. This is an exact replica. The real Sheba ring and box is on loan to the Met.”

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