Tips and Treasure

Tips and Treasure

"... I would pay off my student loans and," looking grimly into her coffee mug, "stop drinking this cheap coffee." Ms. Laire, the 9th grade English teacher, had shown the class a news article of someone who had recently won $20,000, and had explained what she would do had she won.

I know what I’d do with $20k, Jeremy thought as he walked along the road to the downtown area. It was a plan he’d had in the back of his mind for months. Since his brother Todd moved out of the ancient home. His family had lived there for decades after Jeremy’s grandfather, the majestic salesman Balan Harmon, bought it for cash. Todd got out of their personal Island of Solitude, where their only company had been each other and their dark-dwelling parents whose craving for fairy dust outweighed their affection toward their children. Until Todd moved out, Jeremy had felt that no one could leave, and no one ever came near to pull him away.

After arriving downtown, he quickly strode to his favorite restaurant: Jerry’s Diner.

He put his hand into his pocket and felt the money inside. He had put the money he’d earned over the past week from doing chores into his pocket before going to school this morning.

Jeremy pulled the large gold bars on the glass door. He then walked up to the wooden podium, where a waitress was stacking menus.

The waitress looked up at him. “How many?” she asked.

“Just me,” he said.

She rolled her eyes as she plucked a menu from the top of the stack. She led the boy to the closest square table and gently sat the menu and silverware on the table.

She smiled and asked, “I’m Sarah, and I’ll be serving you today. What can I getcha?”

“I’ll have a milkshake,” the boy said, “and a side of fries.”

“Oh-kayyy,” the waitress said slowly, her hand quickly making notes on her top-bound notebook. She tapped the pad with her pen to announce the arrival of a period. She smiled, then turned back to the boy, who had turned to face the window.

“What kind of milkshake?” she asked.

The boy was silent.

“Excuse me?”

Jeremy turned away from the window, his eyes wide. “Uh, sorry, what?” he sputtered.

“What flavor milkshake?”

“Chocolate, please.” He began opening his backpack and taking out some notebooks. He had enough schoolwork to keep him out of the house for hours.

“Alrighty. I’ll get this to the kitchen and be right back with the shake.” She picked up the menu and walked away.

Some students walked into the diner, talking and giggling amongst themselves. Sarah the waitress led them to several booths on the other side of the restaurant.

Jeremy was silently thankful Sarah had led them away from him. They were still so loud he couldn’t think. Eventually, he sat back in his chair and dropped the pencil on the table. It rolled to the other side of the table and fell off.

Before he could get the pencil, Sarah came over with a milkshake and a basket of fries. “Here you go, love,” she said.

Jeremy ate silently. When half of the basket was gone, he moved his chair back and slid under the table. He started reaching for his pencil when he noticed another object on the floor not far from it. A small black notebook. He picked it up and returned to his seat.

Jeremy turned it over in the light. The cover was worn, and he noticed some corners of pages had been dog-eared.

If it was so important, the owner might have left their name inside the front cover, Jeremy thought. He opened the cover. As he suspected, inside the cover was the name Jasmine Coast. A note beneath the name said, “If you find this notebook, please call 873-9287.”

He was about to shut the book when he saw the words on the next page:

“Jasmine’s Book of Tips

Tip #1: Tip the waitress/waiter. They depend on tips to account for lower salaries. If they did their job well and left you satisfied, show your support by leaving a tip. The method I use is finding the tax on the bill, moving the decimal point to the left, multiplying by 2, and rounding up.”

So that’s what it is, Jeremy thought. He had noticed that some people left cash on the table, but many people didn’t. He was one of those people. His parents never left cash on the table, so why should he?

He took the money out of his pocket and examined it. He had brought enough for one shake and a basket of fries, but not much more.

Jeremy flipped through the rest of the book’s contents. The book contained a variety of fascinating tips and stories about how to take care of things.

The contents on the last page were neither a tip nor a story. It was a poem. It read:

“Schoolboy Cody and his pale girl Fenny took a break from their studious plight.

Their eyes too bloodshot to read the words, their arms too weak to write,

Their heads deflated footballs that were leaking clouds of white.

But their tiny feet could keep the beat so they ran into the night.

“King Pine’s golden castle would be open all the night.

His vitamins and herbs would surely make their heads feel right.

They knocked three times upon the door and paid the King his dues,

He disappeared, brought back some clear fine crystal dancing shoes.

“Cody and Fenny danced around under the clear night sky.

Molly, her red dress flowing about, knocked upon the door thrice.

The King gave her and the pair lovely things and bid them ‘come inside’.

He then led them to the starlit ballroom with a floor of ice.

“Molly snatched the King’s fur coat. Fenny took his shiny crown.

Cody tossed the lot into a hole he had made in the ground.

As King Pine reached to save his things his golden ring fell off.

When his business turned to pleasure he had let his business starve.”

Jeremy shuddered. And here’s another one, he thought. He wondered if he’d seen this woman before, someone who had stopped by to see his parents.

He stood up and walked to the front of the diner, where the restrooms and payphone were located. He had enough change for one call.

Ring. Ring.

“Hello?” A woman had answered.

“H-hi,” sputtered Jeremy. “I’m looking for a Jasmine Coast.”

“What for?”

“I found this black notebook, and I’m looking to return it.”

When the young woman arrived at the diner, looking around at the customers for someone with her notebook, Jeremy held it up. The woman looked no more than 16. Her face lit up as she held the book.

“Is your name Jasmine Coast?” Jeremy asked

“Nope,” said the woman. “That’s my grandmother’s name. She gave me the book. I was so afraid I had lost it.”

“I was reading it for the past hour,” Jeremy said, “and I learned so much. It was also funny. The flaming turkey story is my favorite.”

The woman smiled. “That is a great story. My grandmother would tell me that one when I made a mistake. She’d say that making mistakes shows that you’re trying, but you should learn from them so you don’t make the same mistake twice. That’s one tip I’m still working on mastering.”

“She seems wise.” Then Jeremy recalled the poem. “Did your grandmother do drugs?”

Cali’s eyes immediately widened. Her hand clenched in a fist. “What do you mean?”

“The poem on the last page. It has a lot of drug references. Believe me, I know.”

Cali narrowed her eyes as she opened the book. She read the poem silently.

“That actually makes sense,” she muttered. Then she looked up from the page. “My grandmother said she wrote that poem about King Pine, a drug lord who was in power when she was a kid. His actual name was Balan Harmon.”

This was Jeremy’s turn to be startled. “That’s my grandfather’s name,” he said. He shrugged. “That’s all I really know about him, actually. Besides that he had bought for cash the house I currently live in.”

“You know what story is about, right? Well, here’s the short version: King Pine was the top name when it came to buying drugs. One night, he started using some of his products, and he went crazy. His girlfriend, a customer, took all of his money and product to rid herself of his cruel rule. Supposedly, he gave her his jewel-encrusted ring to win her back. At least that’s he had been wailing about the night he died, from heartbreak and an overdose.”

Cali and Jeremy decided to meet up the next day to search for the ring. Jeremy paid his bill, but couldn’t produce a tip. The waitress rolled her eyes again.

The next morning, Cali rode over on her bike, a shovel strapped across her back.

Jeremy brought her around the house to the back patio. Large wooden beams formed a loose barrier around a square of ceramic tiles. Shiny flakes embedded in the tiles sparkled in the sunlight. Jeremy recalled how the light of the moon would make the tiles shine white and glitter, as if made of ice. In the center of the roofless room, embedded among the tiles, was a silver circle. Cari squatted to get a closer look. It had a red “M” emblazoned on top.

Jeremy joined her. “That’s an ashtray,” he said as he lifted the circle by its edges. Smoke poured out. “Guess my parents were up late last night”.

“The red ‘M,’” muttered Cali. “Molly was wearing a red dress. Maybe that was his girlfriend, and she took the ring.”

“If so, it could be anywhere.” Then Jeremy had an idea. “What if this was Molly, and when he reached for his things in a hole,” he pointed to the ground, “this is where he lost the ring?”

Cali took the shovel off her back and drove it under the rim of the tray. “If the treasure is down there, nothing’s getting in my way.” It creaked loudly as Cali tilted the shovel and knocked it out of place. It rolled away, spewing smoke and cigarettes.

The pair gazed into the hole that was left. In the dirt, sparkling like a rainbow, was the ring.

Cali clutched the ring and held it to her chest. Her hands trembled. Her smile beamed, and tears swelled in her eyes. Her voice was shaky as she said, “You were right, grandma. I owe all of this to you.”

Jeremy and Cali sold the ring for $40,000.

The sky was cloudless and the wind was warm as they walked . Jeremy looked over at Cali, his friend.

“I’m gonna ask you the same question my English teacher asked me a few weeks ago,” Jeremy announced. “‘You just obtained $20k. What do you do?’”

Cali adjusted the dark sunglasses over her eyes. “After the sunglasses I just bought, I need a new notebook. Grandma’s is full, and there’s more stuff to write down. You?”

Jeremy put his sunglasses on. “Besides the sunglasses, of course, I’m gonna start by mastering tip #1.” He paused. “Wanna figure out a plan over lunch?”

“Plans are better when brains are filled with brain food. Jerry’s?”

“Jerry’s. I hope Sarah’s working today.”