The Treasure Hunt

Dust motes glittered in the shaft of sunlight that streamed through the window into the attic. The little boy clambered up the rickety ladder into the treasure trove of the topmost corner of his grandparents’ house; a regular cave of wonders for a boy of 10. From up here, he could faintly hear his parents' voices drift through the floorboards from downstairs. He had been up here many times, exploring the nooks and crannies during these family visits. While finding old hats, derelict bicycles, and long forgotten toys, he would make-believe that he was an explorer of ancient temples like Indiana Jones. 

But everything changed that fateful day. 

He had been flipping through books he found on an old bookshelf. The shelves were skewed, some missing pegs and haphazardly collapsed onto those below.  Some bowed in the center with the weight of the knowledge they held. He was reading one that creaked and groaned as he opened it, the pages yellowed and stained. It was in a language he couldn’t read but he pretended it was a wizard’s spell book and he could cast fantastic spells that would change the world. He yelled in his high-pitched voice the various incantations learned from the television. 

“Hocus Pocus! Higgilty Piggilty! Lumos! Abracadabra!”

A bird’s shadow obscured the morning sun for a moment, startling him into dropping the book in a puff of dust. He grumbled to himself that wizards were supposed to be brave and knelt down to pick the book back up, when he noticed something peeking out from under the bookcase. His magical spellbook quickly forgotten, he got onto his hands and knees and peered into the small space between the base of the bookcase and the floor. A folded piece of paper sat there, innocent and brimming with possibilities. 

He pulled it carefully out and unfolded it. His eyes grew large as he beheld the treasure he had unexpectedly discovered. A dotted line traced a route on a map and at the end of the line was a large X. He stood and his hands shook slightly with excitement. He could make out landmarks and squiggly lines. A real life pirate treasure map! But where was this? A far off land or an ancient city overrun by monkeys or even a pirate’s hideout? He saw small houses, trees, a large building, and what appeared to be a stream that cut through the center.

He walked to an old moth-eaten wingback chair near the bright window and perched on the edge, unwilling to get too much dust on him and risk the wrath of his mother. He glanced out the window when he heard a dog’s bark. Rex was harassing the chickens as he always did when they visited his grandparents home. He squinted at the lawn outside with the chicken coops, tire swing, wood shed, and greenhouse. A small creek, more of a trickle really, went through the middle of the yard and meandered around before escaping into a neighbor’s land. He cocked his head and his brow furrowed as he saw a connection. He looked from the window to the map in his hand and back again before springing from his chair in excitement when he realized the map was this yard! There was treasure here!

He ran down the stairs almost tripping on the bottom and sprinted down the hall, passing pictures of himself and his father as they grew up. He skidded to a stop and walked carefully past a table arranged with porcelain dolls whose eyes seemed to follow him as he tiptoed by. The hardwood steps were slippery and he had to tread carefully so as to not accidentally slide down them. He dashed by the parlor where his mother and father were having tea and chatting amicably with his grandparents. 

“I’m going on a treasure hunt!” he exclaimed as he blurred by, his map waving in his hand. His grandfather just smiled knowingly and continued sipping his tea in response to his son’s questioning eyebrow. 

The boy ran onto the porch and assessed the situation. Holding the map in his hand, he compared the topography. Before taking a step, he hesitated then turned and marched back into the house and made his way to the kitchen. The best of adventures needed supplies. He grabbed his backpack from near the backdoor. After emptying the reading light, adventure story, comics, and empty candy wrappers, he filled it with a juice box, apple, animal crackers, and a flashlight. He shrugged the backpack on and was about to leave but stopped and retrieved a trowel from the back porch near his grandmother’s muddy galoshes. The best of treasures were always buried. 

He walked to the front of the wraparound porch and compared the yard with his sketched map. The dotted line seemed to start where he was standing, loop around the tire swing tree, hop over the creek over the footbridge his grandmother had painted to look like a rainbow, and dodged between the different outbuildings a few times. He nodded sagely and tucked the map safely into his pocket before striking out. 

Rex bounded up to him and excitedly licked his face and hands before rushing off in search of a dastardly squirrel or suspicious rabbit. The tire swing spun lazily in the breeze as he neared the tree and craned his neck to look up into the boughs of the gentle giant. The wind ruffled his hair as he remembered days when his father would push him so high he thought he could tickle the bottom of clouds. Studying the map closely he paced around the tree, idly pushing the tire to send it swinging wildly. 

He set off again towards the creek, carefully avoiding the tree roots that poked up here and there. The stream burbled as it danced along the riverbed. Dragonflies flitted here and there, resting for moments on the water’s surface before flying off again. Tiny translucent fish darted under rocks and overhanging plants as he crossed the bridge. He jumped from one foot to the other across the planks, carefully not stepping on the cracks. On the other side, he surveyed his surroundings and decided this was a good place to rest, for all the best adventures needed a break in the middle. Finding a good spot in the shade against a willow, he leaned his back against it and sipped his juice and ate his animal crackers and apple while watching the sun dapple across the ground. He dropped a small piece of cracker and watched as ants appeared out of nowhere to swarm onto the crumb. After a few minutes the morsel was no more as the ants moved off in search of another meal. In the distance, Rex chased a cat who ran onto a fence pole hissing back at the dog who barked excitedly, delighted in the game. 

His eyes drooped with the lazy warmth and full belly but he shook his head. He couldn’t doze off when there was treasure to be found! Stowing his empty lunch containers and throwing the apple core into a nearby bush, he brushed himself off and studied the map. It seemed that the path led him to zig between the hen house and the greenhouse then zag between the greenhouse and wood hut. With a resolute nod he walked on. He ran his fingers idly over the chicken wire as he clucked to the chickens who came scuttling out to meet him investigating for any food or scraps. Finding none, they resumed their scratching of the ground. Throwing a small handful of pebbles he had found on the ground he giggled when the chickens chased them only to be disappointed to find inedible rocks. He stood on his tiptoes to peer into the greenhouse looking at the pots of flowers, herbs in nice neat rows, and vegetables waiting to be planted outside. He kicked over some of the logs outside the wood hut and watched the bugs underneath scurry and hide from the sudden onslaught of sunlight. The dotted path seemed to lead to a small derelict doghouse at the back edge of the property. 

His heartbeat quickened as he got closer. Would he find a treasure chest full of gold and jewels? Would he find the lost booty of Blackbeard himself? Maybe it was a box filled to the brim with trinkets and artifacts from a long dead civilization? His thoughts and imagination ran away with him as he neared his destination. Carefully, he searched for any booby traps that would open a pit below him or cause a boulder to chase him away. Disappointedly he found none, and moved aside some overgrown ivy to see inside. There sat a metal lunchbox shiny and obviously out of place in this dirty dark place. He pulled it out and sat on the ground ignoring the wetness that seeped up from the ground as he popped open the latch. 

What he found inside made his mouth form an “O” of surprise and his eyes widened with delight. He snapped the top closed and ran as fast as his legs could take him back into the house to share the unexpected treasure with his family.