A Hidden Value

I yawned and sat up in bed.

What a great rest. . . Oh, wait, what time is it? I hope I’m not going to be late for work,

I squinted at my clock, remembered that I needed glasses to see, fumbled around for them, and heard something fall onto the floor. 

Great. 

I didn’t want to step on them so I gently put my foot down, tapping around for them. 

That's an old sock. That's a book. That’s-That feels like my glasses. Thank goodness I didn’t smash them. 

I reached down and grabbed them, slid them onto my face, then finally looked to see what time it was; 6:44. 

No, no, no! The coffee shop opens at 7:oo! 

I jumped out of bed, slid out of my PJs, got dressed, and ran downstairs. I grabbed a banana from the kitchen, then stuffed it into my purse which I had left out on the counter the night before. I glanced at the clock on my phone; 6:49 

Jammed my feet into sneakers and threw on a jacket that was too light for the freezing weather we get in Minnesota. 

I stepped outside and locked up only to realize that I had forgotten my purse on the counter. 

*

“You're late, Clari.” Said my boss, Daphne. 

“Only by five minutes. I would have been here on time if I hadn’t hit every red light.” I tied my apron on after taking off my jacket and headed into the kitchen to get cinnamon rolls I’d cooked last night for today's customers. Daphne followed me.

“I’ll need you to man the shop today. My sister needs me to watch her kids while she's visiting an old friend.” I paused halfway through closing the fridge. 

I can’t man the shop. I’ve only been working here for a month. 

“Okay, are you sure you couldn’t have someone else do it?” 

“Yes, I’m sure. Now close the fridge, you're letting all the cold air out.”

*

Daphne left after the breakfast rush. 

Two customers- both men around the age of twenty- remained, sitting at separate tables drinking their coffee, and looking at their phones.

“Can I get you anything, sir? Perhaps a warm cinnamon roll or some more coffee?” I asked the man closest to me. Putting on my sweetest shop-keeper smile. 

“No.” He didn’t even look up from his phone. I walked over to the other man. 

“What about you? Do you need anything?” I tried the smile again, but it didn’t feel as bright. 

“Actually, yes. Me and my friends wanted to. . .” He paused, “surprise someone special with some doughnuts, do you have any?” Odd that he would ask if we had doughnuts when there was a donut shop a few blocks down, but I wasn’t about to lose a customer. 

“Yes, we have doughnuts. Was there any special type you wanted?” 

“I’ll take two chocolate, and one vanilla with rainbow sprinkles.” I scribbled down the order.

“Okay, I can do that. Your order should be ready in five minutes.” As I walked back to the kitchen, the other man got up and left. 

I got a box, then got the donuts. 

I wonder who the special someone is? I hope they enjoy the doughnuts. What was it he wanted on the vanilla one-

Something crashed in the main room. I ran out of the kitchen to see what had happened. 

What on earth happened here?!

The front window was shattered and glass was everywhere. I looked over to the counter. The cash register was gone, along with the tip jar. 

Daphne is going to kill me when she sees this mess. Where did the man who ordered the donuts go?

I went back to the kitchen to grab a broom and find some boards to patch the window. 

I found the broom but no boards. There was, however, plastic wrap. 

People fix car windows with this, maybe it will work for here. 

I entered the main room to see the guy who had ordered the donuts snooping around the counter.

“It was you! Get out of here right now before I call the police!” I walked over to him and tried to hit him with the broom but he grabbed it mid-swing. “Oh, and you don’t get your doughnuts anymore, but I still expect you to pay full price for them.” He smirked and I realized how silly that had sounded, but I didn’t care. He was still holding my broom, so I tried to pull it away but he wouldn’t let go. “Give me my broom! If you're not going to leave, then at least help clean up.”

“No. I’ve got other things to do.” I glared at him. 

“Oh, you do? like what? Are you going to go rob more shops? Because I won’t let you.” He found this amusing.

“I didn’t rob your shop miss-” he leaned in to get a better look at my name tag, “Miss Clarissa Frankie.”

“Oh.” 

Shoot.  

I lowered the broom and he released it. “I am so sorry. I saw you looking around the counter and just assumed- I really am sor-” He cut me off. 

“Like I said, I didn’t rob your shop, he did.” I waited for something to hit me in the head, or for arms to wrap around me, but nothing happened. I looked behind me and there was another man there, but he was just standing there. I gave both of them puzzled looks.

“That was your cue to grab her, Scott!” yelled the doughnut guy. I burst out laughing.

“This is like in all the comedy shows where someone is supposed to get the cue but doesn't!” They both gave me annoyed looks and I quickly stopped. “Okay, so if your little robbery is over, then I will happily take back the cash register and clean up once you leave, or if you want, you could help me clean up. Was it really necessary to go through the window? The door was unlocked.” I walked over to the window and started sweeping, keeping both of them where I could see them. 

They walked over to the corner farthest from me and started whispering. 

It started snowing outside and I decided that I should patch the window first. 

I grabbed the plastic wrap from the table where I had set it and then went outside. 

I couldn’t get the plastic wrap to stick, so I went back inside to find some duct-tape. 

As I walked past the men in the corner, I caught the words. “Get her in the kitchen.” 

This is the most excitement I’ve ever had at a job before.  

Once in the kitchen, I bolted for the one doorway I knew didn’t lead to a closet. There was a staircase and I guessed it went up to the apartment that someone used to live in before they had closed them off. 

I shut the door leading to the stairs as quietly as possible before rushing up them. 

When I reached the top, I paused. There was an old sofa and a few empty soda cans littered the floor. There was a kitchenette on the other side of the room. 

I heard the men downstairs opening and closing doors. It wouldn’t be long before they found this one. 

The apartment had two other doors in it. The first was a bedroom, with an old bed and a bookcase that had few old novels on it. 

Wow. Why has no one ever been up here before? It’s like I went back in time!

Footsteps. 

I closed the door and opened the other one. It led to another room with more doors. I entered and locked the door behind me, though I wasn’t sure how good the lock was since it was decades old. 

Three other doors this time. 

The first one led to another bedroom.

The next was a closet. Neither of which were very helpful.

But the next one was labeled “Basement”. 

This building doesn’t have a basement. 

I ripped off the label, stuffing it into my back pocket, then flung the door open just as I heard: “Open this door! Were not going to hurt you.” 

Yeah right, like I would open the door for you.

I locked the so-called basement door just as I heard them break through the first one.

I hope they don’t destroy the rooms too much.

I rushed down two flights of stairs until there were no more stairs to be rushed down and I’d reached the bottom floor. 

Whoa. . . 

There was old furniture and books and. . . Old everything. Fabric. Cigars. Laundry. And even some old flour. 

More footsteps.

I need to hide. Fast. It needs to be good, somewhere they'll never look.

I scanned the room. There were bookshelves and sofas that I could crouch behind but that'd be the first place they would check.

The footsteps were getting closer, but they were also slowing down. They probably thought they had me trapped, or they were just tired from running up and down the stairs. I had three minutes at best. 

One bookshelf was up against the wall.

I wonder. . . 

I made my way over to the shelf.

In most mystery books and movies, there’s always a secret passageway. I’ve wanted to find a secret passageway ever since I read my first Nancy Drew book as a kid. 

I reached the shelf and started feeling along its side, just as Nancy did in book two. 

One part of the wood felt different, more smoothed down as though people had pushed that one spot a lot. 

I pushed it. 

Please work, please work.

The bookshelf opened like a door into the wall. 

Oh. My. Gosh. It really worked! 

More footsteps brought me out of my astonished haze. 

I stepped into the passageway, grabbing a book from the bookshelf with no idea how I was going to find the light to read it.

I pushed the “door” closed just as the footsteps stopped. 

“Where did she go?” Asked Doughnut Guy. 

I really should come up with a better name for him and his accomplice. I think I’ll rename Doughnut Guy, Rainbow Sprinkles. And the other guy is just going to stay Scott. 

“This means we have to search the place, doesn't it?” Asked Scott

“Yeah, it does.” He sounded annoyed. Good. Maybe they won’t spend much time down here.

“Why do we care about her anyway? We got the money, can’t we just go?” 

“We could, but she saw our faces and we need to find the book that has that code. It should have a brown cover with a sunflower on it, And maybe some gold lettering on the side.” 

The code to what? Where is the book that they need? What. . . Wait, the book that they need. 

I squirted at the book in my hands, adjusting my glasses.

Brown cover, sunflower.

I turned the book on its side.

Gold lettering.

“What's so important that we need this code again?” After this, I’ll need to thank Scott for getting me all the answers. They came closer to the shelf. 

“you don’t remember? I’ve told you, like, a thousand times!”

“Well, yes, I remember, but I’m having a guilty conscience about breaking into “Coffee And Things”. It’s the best coffee shop in town. What if they don’t open again?” Rainbow Sprinkles sighed.

Haha! I love calling him that! 

“My great-grandfather used to live here and own a bakery. But when world war two came, he went off to join the army. Then a few years ago, right before he passed away, he told me that he'd hidden something from the war here and that the code to get it was in that book. I’m hoping that it's something valuable.”

This is so neat! I’m in the middle of a mystery that started during world war two!

*

They searched for another hour, not finding me or the book. 

 It’s getting colder. I wonder what time it is?

“Let’s leave, Mark. There’s supposed to be a blizzard today and I don’t want to get stuck in here.” 

There was a blizzard coming? I didn’t see it in the weather- Oh, wait, I never checked the weather. 

“Yeah, okay. We can come back some other time. It’s not like the book is going anywhere.” They headed up the stairs. I listened to them until I couldn’t hear them anymore. Then slid to the floor.

Thank goodness they left. Now I can finally get out of this room and start cleaning- wait, in the books, sometimes they would stay in hiding just in case the bad guys were trying to trick them into coming out. 

I yawned.

I’ll just stay here and get some rest. . .

*

I woke up three hours later, still holding the book. 

I was not supposed to sleep that long! Well, at least Scott and Mark have probably left by now. How do I open this thing?

I pulled on the bookcase and it opened. 

I’m glad it didn’t get stuck.

Then I headed upstairs. 

Maybe I’ll just go home and forget about this- Oh no, the blizzard! 

I ran up the stairs, to the second apartment, back into the first one, then down the stairs and entered the kitchen. . . To see that the main room was full of snow. 

I am so fired.

Well, I had been napping and hiding, we had got four feet of snow and it was still snowing. 

I went back into the kitchen and slipped on my jacket. 

At least I can look through the book.

In the light, the book was exquisite. The pages were old and had that old book smell. 

I flipped through the pages until I found a slip of paper. 

~99471~ The treasure you seek comes from within a book, just as all great things do.

I thought over the clue in my head while making some hot cocoa. I figured that Daphne wouldn’t mind, under the circumstances. 

I realized that I’d left my cell-phone in the car. We used our cells to receive calls for the shop.     

At least I still have electricity- 

The lights went out.

Never mind.

I looked around for a flashlight and found one in an old drawer. 

I finished my cocoa then decided to go back up-then-down the stairs and look at the passageway in the light. 

*

There was an old table with some chairs around it that looked as if they might collapse at any moment. 

I could have sat in one of those instead of on the hard ground. Although they might have fallen apart before I had a chance to get comfortable.

There was another, smaller, bookshelf in the back of the room next to a door. 

I went and looked at the bookshelf. 

It had a few books and papers that looked minutes away from turning to dust. I couldn’t make out what was on the papers, either because I couldn’t read the handwriting or because the ink had faded. 

I turned towards the door. 

I wonder if it’s really a good idea to open it. I could just wait for someone to come down here with me to have a look. . . But, I don’t have anything better to do. . .

I opened the door. 

In the movies, a big cloud of dust would have puffed out at me when I opened the door. When I opened the door, however, instead of dust, a big invisible cloud of musty air hit me. 

I guess no ones been down here for a while.

In here there was a small safe along with more paper and books piled everywhere. 

Did they really not have computers then? 

I went over to the safe, glancing at book covers and file names as I made my way over. 

Oh cool, an old version of Peter Pan and Moby Dick. I guess it got boring down here, or maybe there used to be kids down here and those were their books. 

When I reached the safe I took the slip of paper out of my jacket pocket and read the code aloud. “Nine, nine, four, seven, one.” 

Something clicked. 

Should I open it? Or just leave it alone?

I kind of thought, hoped, that it would just swing open on its own like in the movies but, of course, that’s not what happened. 

I pulled it open. . . 

To find another piece of paper. 

And to think I was so worried about opening it. 

I took the paper out and put it under my flashlight to read it. 

~Bedroom~ You made it here but it’s time to go back to the start, to a place where you read and write.

The place I started was the apartment.

I ran back up the stairs until I was standing in the bedroom. I glanced out the window. 

Nice, it’s still snowing. It’s gonna take forever to dig-out of here. 

I sighed, then turned to face the rest of the bedroom. 

A bookcase. 

A bed with a bedside table. 

And an old chair. . .

~A place where you read and write.~

That might be what I'm looking for.

I walked over to the chair and removed the cushion.

There's nothing here-

A wooden box fell out of the bottom of the cushion.

I stand corrected.  

I sat on the bed, box in hand. 

The lid creaked as I opened it and inside were two leather bound books.

These are beautiful. 

I opened one. Inside was a name and a note.

Colson Bailey. ~November 14th, 1944~ 

This journal has been with me from the beginning of the war, I hope that the person who finds it will understand what a sacrifice that these men have made and will cherish this dearly. The journals detail my point of view from the war. They are now yours. All I ask is that you take good care of them.

                                                                                       ~lieutenant Baily~