“Hot damn,” Tyler said. “You’re right.”
“What are you waiting for? Let’s go look again.”
“What are we talking about here?” I said.
“You remember the boat wreck, of course…”
“How could I forget?”
“Remember how those guys came back the next day, looking for that box?”
“Yeah. Are you telling me-”
“Let’s go,” Liz said. “Before we lose the light.”
Tyler pulled up the anchor and started the boat. In another few seconds we were headed out to the old bridge pilings.
“We came out here a couple of times,” Liz told me. “But you know what the weather’s been like. No sun, plus the water’s been so choppy. We couldn’t see a thing down there.”
“Do you remember where the wreck was?” I said. I looked out at the pilings. Two parallel rows, at least twelve on each side. They all looked exactly the same to me.
“They left their mark,” Liz said. “You’ll see.”
It didn’t take long to get out there. Tyler came in close as slowly as he could. Then he cut the engine and grabbed a long metal hook. He reached over the side and dug it into the soft wood of the nearest piling, bringing the boat to a dead stop.
“What do you carry that thing for?” I said.
“I use it when I’m doing my Coast Guard rounds,” he said. “In case I have to latch on to a boat, or try to pull somebody out of the water.”
“The boat hit that one right there,” Liz said, pointing to the piling on the opposite row. “You can just see the mark on the side there.”
“I see it.” It looked like somebody had tried to cut into the piling with a dull ax.
“If that box sank,” Tyler said, “it’s gotta be right around here somewhere.”
“It was yellow,” Liz said. “Isn’t that what they said?”
“I thought it was orange.”
“Either way, we should be able to see it.”
We spent the next few minutes leaning over the gunwale. If someone had been watching us, they’d have to wonder just what the hell we were doing out there.
“I’m not seeing it,” Liz said. “How deep is it here?”
“Depth finder says eight feet,” Tyler said.
“That might be too deep. Even with this light, I don’t think we’ll be able to see down that far.”
“You may be right. Let me just pull us over here a little bit…”
He worked the hook into the wooden piling again, moving us into the center of the double rows.
I looked into the water, but the sunlight seemed to reach about four or five feet into the water, no more.
“I can’t see anything,” Tyler said.
“There,” Liz said. “Right there.”
“Where? I can’t see.”
“Let me have that,” she said. She took the hook from Tyler and extended it down into the water. The hook disappeared into the depths.
“You’ve got better eyes than I do. Can you feel anything down there?”
She didn’t answer. She was concentrating hard on what she was doing, feeling along the bottom of the lake with the metal hook.
“I don’t want to stir things up too much,” she said. “We’ll never find it again…”
“Do you have it?”
“No. Wait…No…Yes!”
“There’s gotta be a handle or something, right?”
“I hope so,” she said. She kept working the pole, then she tried pulling. “I think I might have it hooked now. But I can’t lift it.”
“Here, let me try,” he said. He took the pole from her.
“Careful. Don’t lose it.”
“I’ll try not to.” He pulled up on the pole. It seemed to come up about two inches. “Okay, this is heavy. This is officially very heavy.”
“Can I help you?” I asked. I moved next to him and put my hands on the pole.
“I think we have to keep it at this angle. Otherwise it might come off the hook.”
“Got it,” I said. I started to put some muscle into it. “I’ll try to work with you here.”
“Okay, let’s give it some power now. Nice and smooth.”
We both pulled together. I could feel my back starting to complain. My arms were already burning.
“Just keep going,” he said. “It might get easier once we get it off the bottom.”
It didn’t get easier. We had to lug the pole up out of the water, inch by inch. When we had made enough progress, whoever had the top hand was able to switch it to the bottom.
“I’m seeing it now,” Liz said. “I was right. It’s yellow.”
The yellow got brighter and brighter as the box came closer to the surface. My arms felt like they were shot now, but we were so close. The box was almost up to the surface. We both gave the pole another strong tug, a little too much this time. I could see the hook jerking at the handle. Then slipping.
“We’re losing it!” Tyler said.
I reached down and grabbed for it, felt my fingers wrapping under the handle. But the box was beginning to sink again. I held on tight, leaning over so far now that it would surely pull me right into the water. Or else pull my arm right out of the socket.
“Get the pole down here again,” I said. “See if you can get the handle. I can’t hold this much longer.”
“I don’t want to catch your fingers,” he said, working the pole back into position.
“Don’t worry. Just give it a try.”
I felt the pole brush against my little finger.
“Are you clear?” he said.
“Go for it.”
He pulled hard. I could feel the box coming up again. I gave it one more good yank. Now the box was half out of the water. Tyler tried to help me get it over the gunwale, but there was no way that was going to happen. We didn’t have the leverage.
“Liz,” he said. “Start the boat and take us to shore. If we can just get to shallow water…”
She was on it. I could hear the propeller churning against the water. Soon, we were moving. Tyler and I each had a hand on the handle. It was all we could do to keep the box against the side of the boat.
A long minute later, Liz had pulled the boat parallel to the shoreline. She cut the engine and let the boat drift even closer, until the hull made contact with the bottom.
“Okay,” Tyler said. “We can let go.”
We both did at the same time. The box went straight down, sending a plume of water right into our faces. We both had to sit there rubbing our right arms for a while before we could speak.
“What the hell is so heavy in that thing?” he finally said.
“Good question,” I said.
“Let’s get it to shore.”
He jumped over the gunwale and landed in water up to his knees. He pushed the boat toward the dock, so Liz could tie it up. I got out and came around to where Tyler was standing. I waded out into the water and helped him drag the box onto the shore.
It was a large scuba box, mostly yellow with a black watertight seal running all around the top. I bent down and saw the damage to one side of it. There was a large dent in the plastic, and the seal had obviously been compromised.
Tyler lifted the padlock on the front latch. “Whatever’s in here is so heavy,” he said. “It’s a wonder this thing ever floated.”
