When I was a child, the house we lived in had a rundown sawmill a bit back on the property next to us. Rusted saw blades large enough to cut any tree trunk were housed in these eerie buildings. Late night games of ghost in the graveyard held an extra element of fear in my yard.

It was said that the Jersey Devil was often seen in those woods. Along with that beast, Bluenose the Pirate was also said to haunt those woods in my backyard. He wore thick welder’s glove and was called Bluenose due to being stranded in the Pine Barrens in the frost of winter when his ship had run ashore, ultimately freezing to death somewhere near my backyard.

His treasure must be back there somewhere, and someday I want to unearth it. If only I had been a pirate, born in a different age, destined to plunder and navigate the seas.

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