It seems like only yesterday when my pops approached me, his eyes wide, a grin stretching from ear to ear. “We’re going on a trip,” he said, his voice trembling with excitement. “A cabin deep in the woods.” The words buzzed in my ears, sending a rush of exhilaration through my chest. My heart raced at the thought of an adventure, something we hadn’t had in so long. This would be our first vacation since Mom passed.
But, as things usually do, it came with a catch. My cousin Jamal, whom I never got along with, had to join us. We were as different as chalk and cheese, and every family gathering seemed to end in arguments between us. Pops insisted that the time had come to bury the hatchet. It sounded crazy, especially considering we were only eleven, but Pops, being the smart man he was, left me no choice. If we were going, so was Jamal.
Oh man, that car ride to the cabin! The silence between me and Jamal was ruthless. The further we drove, the more it became a game of will. Which of us would break first? Turns out neither of us did, causing us to ride for over two hours without uttering a single word. The only sounds in that car were Pops and Uncle Roy chatting about boxing for the entire drive! Who talks about boxing that much? I remember staring out the window, my thoughts a whirlwind of anger and sadness. Why did Jamal have to be here with us? This trip would have been better with just Pops and me, and of course, Mom, if she were still here.
When we finally arrived at that rustic log cabin, the sight of a shimmering lake and thick woods gave me hope. They were the perfect place to escape. I could explore for days, distancing myself from Jamal as much as possible.
I soon learned, however, that Pops and Uncle Roy were forever the optimists. They were determined to make the trip memorable, planning activities to force both of us to spend time together. During those first two days, we fished, hiked, and even had a canoe adventure. The four of us jammed our bodies into the canoe, ending with all of us getting soaked to the bone. I still claim my innocence in the tipping! However, at the end of each day, it felt like we kept trying to mix oil and water. Nothing seemed to stop our arguing, no matter what Pop and Uncle Roy planned for us…until that third morning.
The sun was shining, and I stood alone on the shore, tossing rocks at the lake, when I heard Pops and Uncle Roy shouting for help. For some odd reason, they were in the attic. I sighed, went inside, and lumbered up the narrow staircase. I still can see that old small attic, littered with long-forgotten junk, boxes piled high to the ceiling, and Jamal standing in the center, frowning at my arrival.
They had the two of us shift around boxes, stacking them here and there until we reached a huge, dusty wooden chest in the back of the attic. With his face displaying unmistakable curiosity, Pops stepped forward and meticulously examined the old piece of furniture, capturing the attention of both myself and Jamal. Pops then told us to each grab a hold of a side and lift open the lid together. With a heave and a loud creak, it opened. Inside rested a large carved wooden box. Man, adventure surged through me. What did we just discover? Uncle Roy looked at my pops and then at us and shrugged while saying, “Might as well open it boys, let’s see what’s in there.”
We flipped open the latch to find several pirate costumes and an old, worn map. Our eyes met, and a spark of curiosity lit up between us for the first time. We both were excited about something together for once.
We both yelled at Pops and Uncle Roy, “Look what we found!”
I remember all the unspoken tension disappearing that day up in the attic. Pops and Uncle Roy watched us with hesitant glances. They seemed wary about us getting along all of a sudden.
Haha, we sported those pirate costumes, and man, we looked good. They were complete with eye patches and toy swords. Heck, we even each had a hook for our hand! We were the coolest eleven-year-old pirates on earth that day. We pleaded with Pops and Uncle Roy to let us follow the map. After some deliberation, they agreed. Both me and Jamal bolted out the door before they could change their minds.
The map led us through woods so thick we thought we would never make it back. The babbling brooks, massive moss-covered rocks, and gigantic trees were everywhere. We laughed and joked; we were having fun together for the first time. It was as if that treasure hunt began to create a bridge between two souls who had stood on opposite banks of a river for far too long.
When we reached the destination marked on the map, the moon cast a bright glow, illuminating our surroundings. There, under the moon’s glow, Jamal and I swore we would help each other find our way back, and neither would leave the other behind. That was the first promise we ever made to each other.
Thanks to the moonlight, and just like the map displayed, we found an enormous, old, fallen oak tree. Its branches stretched across the ground like ancient fingers. Following the instructions, we dug into the earth right next to the large hole in the middle of the tree. I remember being so thankful when our hands finally hit something hard and cold. Haha, the shouts. Oh, man, our shouts were pure joy when we yanked that metal box out of the dirt. We both stood there, speechless, our jaws dropping in awe.
That’s when we made our second promise to each other. Keep whatever we found in the box a secret. “Don’t tell anyone,” we both whispered together. Only Jamal, myself, and the moon would know what we discovered. We tossed our hooks, dropped our swords, and agreed to open the box together at the same time. The lid groaned open, revealing a trove of trinkets and coins. It was as if we had struck gold! We hooted and hollered and jumped around like we just won the lottery.
That’s when Pops and Uncle Roy emerged from the shadows, their smiles warm and genuine. The realization struck both of us at the same time. This was all a setup. The treasure, the map, the pirate costumes–all a ruse to bring Jamal and me together, like shared experiences had brought together our dads when they were young. Pops clasped me on the shoulder, his eyes gleaming with pride. “You two did it. You found the treasure. Together.”
Uncle Roy nodded, his gaze fixed on Jamal and me. “Just like we did back in the day. Sometimes, you need a little adventure to forge bonds that can last a lifetime.”
We looked at each other, knowing something had changed. There became a silent understanding between us. The walls that had separated us crumbled like ruins, leaving behind the foundation of a friendship.
That night, as we sat around the crackling fire, our nostrils filled with the scent of burning wood and toasted marshmallows, I realized how wrong I had been about Jamal. Beneath the surface of our differences, we discovered a shared love for adventure, laughter, and the simple joy of being kids. The resentment I had melted away, replaced by the warmth of newfound friendship. Pops and Uncle Roy set up the tents, and we slept that night deep out in the woods. It still is one of the best nights I’ve ever had.
The rest of the week unfolded like a storybook. Fishing by the lake, hiking through meadows, and canoeing in the sun. With each passing day, we grew closer, our friendship blossoming. We were becoming not only cousins but best friends.
I was so sad when the vacation ended, and we had to pack our bags to go home. You know, it took me a few years to realize the actual treasure was not that box buried in the woods. The real treasure was the formed bonds and learning to see beyond each other’s differences. Thanks to Pops and Uncle Roy, that trip made us lifelong best friends.
What started as a vacation I didn’t even want to go on ended with me being the best man at your wedding, your first daughter’s godfather, and countless memories I will cherish for the rest of my life.
Folding up the piece of paper, I place it in my suit pocket. I cough to clear my throat and regain control of my emotions.
“This brings us to our third and final promise- the eulogy reading. Today is the day I need to say my final goodbye to you. I am not sure how I will get through life without you, Jamal. I can’t remember when we let more than a day pass without speaking. Rest easy, my friend.”
I take a moment to wipe the tears from my eyes, my wrinkled hands trembling as I touch Jamal’s casket, a bittersweet reminder of our unbreakable bond, knowing with all my soul that Jamal would have done the same for me, just as we promised.
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2 comments
I loved how the story seemed like it was truly told through an eleven-year-old boy's perspective, before the tone became more mature when discussing Jamal's death.
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Thank you! That was my goal!
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