entry in ivillage.com fiction contest

The box lay just three feet away, buried beneath a foot of sand and a scattering of palm leaves. It had waited all these years, holding its treasure -- and its secret -- from the rest of the world. Two feet from the box, the thudding started. Quiet at first, almost a whisper of sound, then louder, insistent. One foot away, it sounded like a herd of elephants charging through the low-hanging branches to the left. Six inches away, the thudding had become a roar -- a warning that one step closer would reawaken the wrath of Rexnal's Curse.

Frankie didn’t believe in bad luck or the stories the locals told about Rexnal’s Curse. That’s why he picked the cove to run to after the heist went sour on him. The closer he moved toward the maw of the cave and its winding promise of freedom, the more deafening the din became. He had made two mistakes on that bright sunny afternoon. The first was refusing to believe in legends. The second he discovered when he walked inside the cave and a single shot rang out. Now he believed, reliving the day’s events, soaked through with his own blood, he believed.

This one had not gone the way Frankie Marlin had planned. Toby Keeler had been shot, for all Frankie knew he might even be dead by now. He took great pride in the fact that even after ten years back on the streets, he had never even received a parking ticket. Now all that had changed thanks to one off-duty policeman and three bullets.

It was suppose to have been a simple heist. In and out just like clockwork. If the dry run had been the actual robbery, Toby would be alive and they’d be dividing up the spoils. The sun broiled Rexnal’s Island and Frankie squinted as his sweat ran into his dark eyes. He removed his sunglasses and wiped his face with his sleeve. Looking out at the bridge that connected the two land masses that made up this pitiful island, he understood why it remained; " an undiscovered paradise."

Sitting down on the uncomfortable sand, he scooped up a handful of the sparkling substance. Frankie let it slip through his fingers as he looked up at the azure skies. "I’m sorry, Toby my man," Frankie said out loud. There wasn’t much on Rexnal to recommend it to the tourist industry. Two beaches that were a haven for jelly fish and sharks, one bank and a hotel featuring bad jazz in the showroom. Frankie got up stiffly and stretched his legs. From where he stood he had a clear view of the cove. Today the sights were no different than the day he arrived on the ferry from the mainland. He could see the small fishing vessel, the starrier, as she headed out to deeper waters. The sails were unfurled on a handful of pleasure crafts, crowded down with locals and tourists. "No ferry, what a surprise," he said, as he lit his last cigarette.

As Frankie lay dying , Charles Reno was knocking on a door.

Sandra Crawford had made it aboard the early ferry back from the mainland. She seemed surprised to see Charlie standing on the porch when the taxi left her by the curb.

2.

"Charlie, what brings you here this late in the afternoon?" Sandra asked with a sultry laugh. "Is your wife fixing meat loaf again?" She paused on the first step of the porch to watch him. Charles Reno turned away from her, lowering his eyes as he did. "Charlie, this isn’t funny, you’re scaring me." Slowly, he looked up and his eyes met hers. She knew, it was the look that every woman married to a police officer dreads facing. Sandra stepped back, clutching the railing of the porch for support. "How," she stammered, "How did it happen?" He stepped over to her and placed his hand on her shoulder as she cried.

"Johnny was off duty. He had gone to the bank to make a deposit. From what the witnesses said and this is sketchy at this point, there were two shooters. He must have identified himself as a police officer and when he did one of the robbers pulled a handgun out. He got off three rounds hitting one of the suspects and killing him. The second suspect shot him in the back. We have a dragnet covering the entire island, with the ferry shut down, there’s no way for him to escape."

"Charlie, I need to be alone." Her hands shook as she tried to place the key into the lock.

"Here, let me help you with that," he said, as he reached down and took the key from her trembling hands. He opened up the door and walked her inside.

Sandra collapsed on the sofa, calling out her husband’s name between racking wails of despair

and anguish. "I’ll stop by later on," Charles said, as he opened up the door to let himself out. As soon as he had driven away, Sandra got up from the sofa. She walked over to the table where she had dropped her purse. Picking up the large black bag, she sat back down and snapped open the catch. Sandra removed the handgun. One round had recently been fired. Sandra placed the pistol down and walked over to the window. She pulled the curtains open slightly and peered out into the steeping afternoon gloom. Sandra cursed the day she had met Frankie Marlin in the bar. " A simple heist," weren’t those his words? All she had to do was give him Johnny’s schedule for his duty rounds.

Then Frankie would cut her in for a taste. Sandra had only stepped off the ferry when she had a change of heart. She called in sick for the day and caught the early ferry back to the island.

Sandra made it back to town in time to witness her husband’s murder from the sidewalk. She followed Frankie back to the cove and waited. She fired one round, leaving the money behind with Frankie’s body. Now as the day wore on she began to worry. What if she hadn’t killed him? What if Frankie Marlin was still alive? She placed the handgun back inside her bag and walked outside.

With any luck she’d make it to the cove before the police showed up.

She parked her car half a mile away from the cove and walked the deserted stretch of road. Sandra climbed over the guardrail and stumbled down the steep embankment until she reached the beach.

Under the setting of the sun, the crescendo began to swell. Like all those native to the island, she remembered the curse. Sandra recalled her own mother’s warning about a box containing runes that guarded a sacred cave. A thousand drums pounded in the darkness as she grew closer. A full moon appeared overhead.

3.

"No, this can’t be happening, it’s impossible!" Sandra screamed. A trickle of light illuminated the cave entrance. There wasn’t any body lying there. She took out a flashlight and shined it inside the aperture. "I’ve got to know." Sandra Crawford stepped inside the cave. She screamed..