Blame it on the Weatherman

I suppose I could credit my good fortune that day to the weatherman, Lying Larry. He said to expect sunshine all morning. I don’t know why I decided to believe him this day. Maybe it was because of the months of isolation, or maybe it was just due to Gracie’s incessant whining to go outside. In any case, I snapped on Gracie’s leash and stepped outside into the crisp, cool air. Immediately I saw that trusting the weatherman was indeed a mistake but by then it was too late! Gracie was pulling with all her might and off we went to take a long awaited walk.

I was planning on walking Gracie to Willow Creek Park but instead she turned North towards the outskirts of town. I decided to let her have her way. Maybe once we were away from the neighborhoods, I could let her run loose. It was as we turned the corner of Tinker Street, onto the dirt road, that I first felt it. A cold, wet drip down the middle of my forehead. Then a few more, then suddenly the downpour let loose! It was as if the cloud above me had been storing up its moisture all winter, just waiting for the moment I dared to step outside of my quarantine! Ugh! I had no one but myself to blame but because Lying Larry had managed to pull one over on me, I muttered under my breath, a few choice words directed at him.

Even Gracie began to dart around, trying to find an escape from our unexpected shower. “Come on girl!” I called as I snapped her leash back on and pulled her towards the shelter of an impressively large, Oak Tree. Normally I would never have gone near this tree as it sat smack dab in the middle of the most desolate yard, in front of the most creepiest and oldest, abandoned mansion in town. Yes, I know, “most creepiest” isn’t proper but then neither is anything else about this place. For as long as I can remember, urban legends have been told to children regarding this seemingly haunted mansion, warning them away from the unknown dangers and mysteries hidden away inside.

At least the tree was massive enough to protect us from the onslaught of rain drops, although, apparently the rain had turned to hail stones! I realized this when Gracie yipped in surprise after sticking her head out from under our makeshift umbrella. I pulled her in closer and snugged myself up against the dry bark of the tree. I closed my eyes for a moment, remembering the warmth of the fireplace in my living room where just a short time ago I had sat, comfortably sipping my morning coffee. Gracie whined and shifted her weight onto my feet. As I opened my eyes, something black caught my attention. At first I thought it was just a rotted part of the tree, where the lower branch connected to the trunk. I considered ignoring it, as it was dirty and partially covered in dead, fallen leaves. I glanced back up at the black, mysterious, something peeking out from the V in the tree. Maybe it was due to the fact that I was hiding underneath a tree, but I was suddenly overtaken by a childlike curiosity. Slowly, so as not to disturb any sleeping spiders or creepy crawlies, I reached for the edge that was sticking out. I worked to dislodge it and to my surprise, I realized it was a book, an old, tattered, little, black notebook. There was no writing on the cover so I opened it up to the first page. It was blank as well. I thumbed through the pages quickly but it appeared as though every page was blank. Every page but one that is!

I caught sight of it for just a second but in that moment I felt a chill run through my body. I shook it off and chalked it up to the cool wind that had picked up at the same instant I had seen the one and only page that was not blank. I flipped back through the pages until I found it again. A wind gust blew around the base of the tree and almost blew the little notebook out of my hands. Gracie, who was now lying at my feet, lifted her head and raised her ears as if straining to hear something in the distance. After a moment she lay back down with a huff and promptly fell asleep. I gripped the book tighter and began to read. The writing was crooked and shaky as though the author had been very old or feeble. I can’t explain why but my hands shook a little and I had a funny tickle in the pit of my stomach as I began to read what it said.

“To the bearer of this book- If you are the first to be reading my notes, then you are to be commended and counted worthy of my fortune. For I am old and nearing the end of my days, but I have been alone my entire life. I have no one with which to leave a legacy ; no one to will my treasure to. “

At the word treasure I stopped reading and glanced around suspiciously, as if someone might be lurking in the shadows, waiting to grab the book and claim the mysterious fortune. “Treasure?’, I said out loud, then warily I glanced around one more time making sure there was no one to hear me. “What are you afraid of?” I asked myself more quietly than before, “Pirates?” I forced out a little laugh, but I couldn’t shake the strange feeling creeping over me. I turned back to the book, realizing that the author of it must have been the original owner of the mansion. His house had sat empty since his death, close to 100 years ago. No one had ever come forward to claim the house and the city had just left it to ruin. Neither neighborhood kids nor teen vandals had ever dared to disturb the eerie emptiness of the property. I read on,

“Given my sad state of affairs, I have decided to hide my fortune and leave only this book as a key to finding it. A sort of treasure map if you will.”

A treasure map! Maybe he was a pirate after all! Somehow a pirate didn’t seem as scary as whatever else I had ever imagined roaming the abandoned halls and staircases.

“To the bearer of this notebook you now have a choice to make. Choice #1-Put the book back where you found it and leave safely; trying never to think about this leather bound mystery again. Choice#2- if you are of the brave sort, built of tougher material than the average man, you will follow my map and become my one and only heir. I will sign this statement so that it will stand as my legal will.”

Well I wasn’t sure if I was brave or tough but my curiosity and love of a good mystery would never let me walk away now! And of course there was the treasure! That was all that was written with the exception of the scrawled signature of the mysterious Author. Underneath his signature he had printed his name “Phinius Maxwell Boggins” . The only other writing was a map of what I could only guess was the cellar of the mansion. I say cellar because dungeon sounds too ominous and I was working on my courage.

“Well Gracie,” I said with more courage than I actually felt,” let’s go on a treasure hunt!” I tugged on Gracie’s leash and she sat up and yawned. The sky was even darker now and the hail had, at some point turned to snow! I made my way up the front steps onto the creaking porch. Gracie stopped at the door and sniffed. She promptly sat down and refused to go in. “Traitor!” I cried. “Fine, have it your way. You can wait for me here but don’t expect me to spend the treasure on any treats for you!”

The door squeaked open and I reluctantly stepped inside. I immediately regretted not making Gracie come with me, but she was already curled back up and snoring on the porch. I took a deep breath for courage. That doesn’t work by the way. As further proof that I should never have left the relative safety of my home, I realized I had forgotten my life line, I mean my cell phone. I really could have used the flashlight on my phone right about now! As I stood wondering how I would ever be able to find my way around, the storm let up and the sun came out from behind the clouds! Only in Idaho, I thought to myself as I shook my head. I pulled open the dusty window coverings to let as much light in as possible.

There across the room stood the cellar door pictured on the map. I cautiously made my way across the room and pulled it open. A cool, musty breeze floated up from inside. Beside the door there was a table with a candle and some matches. I quickly lit the candle then stuffed the extra matches in my pocket, just in case.

Each step creaked under my weight, adding to the creepiness. When I reached the bottom of the staircase, I held the candle to the map in the notebook and then looked around the room. Amazingly it looked exactly as it did on the map. I followed the directions, back and forth until I made it to the cupboard at the end of the room. ‘This can’t be the end,” I thought, “there’s nothing here!” The shelves were empty except for dust and spiderwebs. I checked the map in the notebook again to be sure but it appeared to show the treasure was in a box on one of these shelves. I pulled up a stool and stood on it to try to reach the very top shelf. That’s when I saw it, a dust covered, ornate, wooden box. I dusted it off with my sleeve then I slowly opened it. Inside was money! Lots of money! I had found the treasure for sure! I let out a little squeal of joy then quickly covered my mouth. It wouldn’t do to have someone discover me down here holding a mysterious black book and a box of treasure! Even saying it now sounds pretty unbelievable!

I gently placed the book inside of the box, on top of the money. I carefully climbed off of the stool and made my way back up the stairs. Before I reached the top I heard a noise that stopped me in my tracks. I could hardly breathe I was so scared. Of course it could have been because my nose was full of dust from when I covered my mouth. I stood still waiting to hear it again before moving forward. Suddenly the cellar door burst open and Gracie appeared panting and smiling like a goofball, completely pleased with herself for finding me!

When my heart started beating again, I grabbed Gracie by the leash and we both ran out of the house, down the steps, and across the lawn. I only stopped a moment to glance back at the tree that had sheltered us for a moment and had hidden the little black notebook and all its secrets for so many years. Thank you I whispered in the direction of the house. Thank you Phinius for a great adventure!

It took a second trip to the mansion to convince the lawyers that the money, all $20,000 of it, was indeed rightfully mine, as the sole heir of Phinius Maxwell Boggins. And to think I owe it all to Lying Larry the weatherman!