Treasure Hunt

“Mom, I want to do something!”

Liz wiped the tears from her face and minimized the spreadsheet on her screen.

“What do you want to do?”

Thirteen-year-old Andy shrugged. “I don’t know. I want to go out.”

Liz bit her tongue. “And do what?”

“Go see a movie, or go bowling, or… I don’t know. Something.”

Liz knew her budget would never support a movie or bowling. She hoped she could find some way to pay rent and buy food.

In these trying times, she turned to Google. Things to do with a thirteen-year-old.

She skimmed through the ideas without price tags.

Turn a hike into an adventure with geocaching! You never know what you will find at the end of the trail.

“Hmm.”

“What?” Andy asked.

“What about geocaching?”

Andy cast a dubious glance at her, head tilted, and nose wrinkled. “I don’t know.”

“We should try it. All we need is a GPS…” Liz held up her cell. “And apparently we’re supposed to bring a small item to trade. Like a toy or small gadget.”

“But I hate hiking.”

It was true. Andy loved nothing more than to sit on the couch playing Minecraft and subjecting Liz to a play-by-play. When even that proved boring, Liz knew she needed to get her son out of the house.

“Let’s try it. If you hate it, I promise you’ll never have to go again. Why don’t you go find something to trade?”

“What do I get?”

“Whatever’s in the box when we get there.”

Andy contemplated the idea for a moment, then raced upstairs. Liz could hear him rummaging through his toy bin while she googled, “free geocaching sites.” Moments later, free trial initiated, she had a destination in mind that promised an “engaging nature hike with a beautiful destination.” All she had to do was plug the coordinates into Google Maps.

As she did so, a red plastic dinosaur magically appeared under her nose. She smiled. “Really?”

“What’s wrong with Elmo?”

Liz bit her tongue and smiled. “That’s a great choice. We should grab some water bottles and granola bars and get going.”

“Where are we going, exactly?”

“That’s a surprise,” Liz said, though she already knew their destination was somewhere inside the state park, a mere half hour drive from their home. Inside her fifteen-year-old sedan, she calculated the gas in the tank. There might be enough for this little adventure and commuting. There would just have to be.

As they left the city behind and the scenery changed to lush spring greenery, Liz’s tension eased. Even Andy became more animated, dropping the Minecraft talk every now and again to point out an item of interest along the way.

“Look, Mom, there’s a dairy farm with ice cream! Can we stop on the way home?”

“We’ll see,” Liz murmured, knowing they would not.

“That just means no,” Andy complained.

Liz only smiled in return.

The car bumped along to the entrance to the park where a small lot appeared. Liz slid the gearshift into park and gathered her light jacket and the backpack of snacks.

“Got your dinosaur?” she asked.

Andy held it in the sunlight and grinned. “Yup.”

“Let’s go.”

The coordinates given for this “beautiful destination” led them along the main pathway for ten minutes. Andy soon found a walking stick, as he always did when Liz forced him into nature. Rather than use it to walk, he twirled it like a baton one moment and pretended it was a katana the next.

“Please don’t hit me with that,” Liz said, hand protectively over her face.

“I won’t,” Andy promised.

There were mosquitoes and other insects, but what Liz noticed most was the quiet. The path was smooth beneath her feet and shadowed by the canopy of trees above. A rabbit dashed across in front of them, and Andy laughed with delight.

Liz led Andy down a path to their left, smaller, but no less worn. Within a few moments, she heard trickling water, and they soon came to a stream with a small footbridge across it. Andy balanced on the side as he walked, and Liz fought the urge to scold him. Andy had impeccable balance.

The path continued along the side of the stream and the sound of water grew louder.

“I wonder if we’re looking for a waterfall,” she murmured as they followed the arrow on her cell.

“That would be cool!” said Andy.

Sure enough, the next corner followed the stream as it paused beneath a small waterfall. The sun peered through and diamonds of light sparked off the droplets. Eyes lifted, Liz saw the gleam of the water falling over the cliff above. A monarch fluttered across her vision and disappeared.

“It’s beautiful,” Liz breathed.

“I guess,” Andy said, already searching for stones to skip off the water.

“But where is the cache?” she wondered.

“You mean treasure,” said Andy.

Liz read the directions and description of the cache one more time. “If you dare to venture where others do not, you will be rewarded.”

“Help me look,” she instructed her son, and they climbed off the trail to the pool fed by the fall. Andy was certain the treasure was under the water and ventured further and further in. Liz stayed dry and searched around and beneath the rocks that surrounded the pool.

A deep splash brought her attention back to Andy. She saw his shocked expression as he fell backward beneath the waterfall and scrambled down to help him up. Instead, she heard his shout. “Mom, it’s back here!”

She breathed a sigh of relief; Andy was fine. “What is?” she asked.

“Come here!” he shouted again.

Liz had no desire to hike back to the car with wet clothes and boots, but she stepped into the pool anyway. Andy seemed to be behind the water somehow. Perhaps there was a cave? She reached a hand through the falling water and jumped when she was pulled through.

It was Andy, wet and smiling, who released her when she had found her feet.

They stood in a small alcove, barely large enough for them both to stand. Andy pointed excitedly to an old bank box resting on the damp earth. It was rusting at the corners.

“Did you open it?” she asked.

Andy shook his head. “No, I was waiting for you.”

Liz smiled and ran a hand through her wet and tangled hair. “Well, go ahead.”

Andy knelt and released the latch. “Ready, Mom?”

“Ready.”

The first thing Liz saw was a small black notebook resting on a canvas bag. In white letters on the front of the notebook was written, “Please read and sign.” Tied to a red string glued to the spine was a pen.

“Here, Mom, you do that,” Andy said as he handed the notebook to her and dug in a pocket for Elmo.

“What else is in there?” Liz asked absently as she opened the notebook.

Directions, it read. Take all the treasure you find but leave something behind. Others have signed their name, please do the same.

Following the simple directions was a list of names. Liz briefly scanned them but saw no one she recognized. Each name was preceded by a date. The box had been hiding for ten years. She lifted the pen and began to enter the date.

“Mom…”

Andy’s tone alerted Liz that something wasn’t right. Either Andy had seen a large hairy spider, or he was…

Staring at the largest pile of money Liz had ever seen.

The canvas bag inside the box was full of neatly stacked twenty-dollar bills bound by blue rubber bands.

“Oh my god.” Liz instinctively covered her mouth.

“Is it ours, Mom?” Andy asked, and Liz recognized the anxiety in his voice.

“I don’t know,” she said.

“What did the book say?”

“Oh, it’s just a list of names, and…” she glanced down at the book she still held in one trembling hand. “Take what you find and leave something behind.”

Andy laughed. “We get all this money and someone else gets Elmo.”

Liz paused. “I guess so. But… Andy.”

“What?”

“We don’t need all this.”

Didn’t they? She asked herself. It seemed far too lucky to happen to run into a bundle of money the day her finances brought her to tears. The day she discovered they would be homeless soon barring a miracle.

Was this her miracle?

She bent beside her son and flipped through a stack of twenties, counting. Fifty twenties, one thousand dollars. And there were twenty stacks. Twenty months of rent.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she slung the backpack from her shoulder. “Here, put it in the backpack.” While Andy obeyed, grinning wide, Liz finished signing the little black book.

Elmo looked lonely in the empty spot left by the money. Liz liked to imagine a toddler finding him and showing the same delight Andy had the day he’d rescued Elmo from the dentist’s office. She slammed the bank box closed and lifted the backpack. It was much heavier now.

They held hands as they ducked through the water and made their way back to the path. Water dripped from their clothes and hair, but they were both smiling.

As they drove home, Liz was besieged with doubt.

What if someone else needed it more? What if it’s drug money? What if it’s counterfeit?

The dairy Andy spotted earlier that day caught her eye. She pulled a fast U-turn in the middle of the road.

“Mom!” Andy’s hand shot out for the oh-shit handle.

“I thought you wanted ice cream?” she asked.

Andy grinned.

As she watched the cashier swipe her twenty with a pen, Liz’s heart skipped a beat. The cashier only handed Liz her change followed by two milkshakes and offered a half-smile.

“Have a good day!”

Liz nearly giggled hysterically as she called back, “You too!”

“What are we going to do with it all, Mom?” Andy asked as they pulled back onto the road.

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll find some way to spend it,” Liz replied as her mind calculated rent, groceries, and secondhand clothes for Andy.

Andy rolled down his window and let his hand float on the summer breeze.

Liz smiled and did the same.