Where Your Treasure Is Your Heart Will Be Also

The house was old and homely, it had not even been a week since the inheritance from the original owner had been settled, and already the sale for the home had been written up and was to be signed that day. But that is how every house sale that her mother undertook went, she never sullied her hands with an estate for long, and this had never bothered Henrietta before.

But this place was different, she had many memories of playing here and being with her grandad and the thought of selling such a place made her want to cry. She put on her wide brimmed hat deflecting the raging sun, and gazed at the old house, her white cotton dress gently blowing in the summer breeze.

“Henrietta”

her mother called from the cool covered porch. Startled from her thoughts Henrietta ran through the carefully planted flower gardens, her hat flying off as she ran up the porch steps to her mother.

“oh, look at your face Etta all beat red like that, you’ll get freckles from being in the sun” just then a horse whinnied loudly from somewhere on the large estate startling her mother. Her blue eyes held an aristocratic sparkle and her honey blond hair had not a strand of gray, making it even harder to pin her true age, she was almost the exact opposite of her daughter though, who had a gentle air opposed to her mothers powerful one and although she did have the same blue eyes instead of flawless blond, she had raven black curls that always made her look slightly flustered.

“your grandfather having these wild animals running about like that, honestly what was he thinking with such an estate” her mother complained.

“mother what’s gonna happen to the animals? you never mentioned anything about them.”

“oh Etta, you won’t believe it, I found a farmer who agreed to take them for free. Now I won’t have to worry about them.”

Henrietta looked at her mother blankly, but her mother was oblivious to her thoughts.

“So listen, the lawyer of the estate and the buyers will be here in a half hour, there are some tidbits in the fridge to nibble on and some lemonade, bring it out when they arrive okay? Oh and Henrietta, go wash your face with some cold water. I don’t want it looking like you were working outside when they come.”

“mother” Henrietta wanted to ask, to beg, her mother not to sell the house. She wanted to live here and finally have a real home, but she knew they needed the money and things were not as good as her mother pretended.

“Etta, we need at least $15,000 dollars to pay off our debt, after that I can keep up, it has been a bad year.” she said all this in a very business-like tone.

“I know im sorry.” Sighed Henrietta.

The inside of grandpa’s house was airy and cool even without air conditioning, a gentle breeze blew through the open windows rustling the lacy curtains, although her grandfather lived in such a grand home, he had no real money. The house and land had all been inherited from his father, Henrietta’s great grandpa, who was a rich merchant. All grandpa wanted was to farm, and he did with great zeal. He had horses, pigs, cows, sheep, and chickens which Henrietta could hear in the distance.

Henrietta wandered into the nineteenth-century house’s old parlor and sat down on the stylish couch. She was about to start reading a book she had brought to curb the boredom, when out of the corner of her eye between two bricks in the fireplace, there was what looked like a piece of tattered ribbon. Upon closer inspection it was a book in between the two bricks of the fireplace and the ribbon marker just happened to be sticking out. After a bit of prying and gentle wiggling the fireplace loosed its grip and lent Henrietta its book.

The book was black and very scarred, the cover was soft with age and smooth like some sort of leather and was covered in crumbled mortar from its hiding spot. And though even more ripped up and scratched from Henrietta’s attempt to get a hold of it, it was beautiful. The kind of thing that looked very used and personal. Time came to a stop as Henrietta marveled at the hidden treasure she had so carefully excavated.

After cleaning off the rock grit and looking around to make sure she was still alone, she sat down on the silk cream carpet and her mind started spinning.

“who’s was it?”

“why would someone hide it?”

“was it her grandfathers?”

“should she read it?”

The answer was quite simple, of course she was going to read it. With unprecedented apprehension she opened the book.

There where quite a few poems on the old, yellowed pages of the book. Each beautiful works of art, every word carefully thought over and crafted before being placed on the pages. They made Henrietta smile and she finished them quite quickly, drinking in the words like someone breathing thin air on a mountain, always needing more despite their quantity as if each one might be their last.

Finally, the poems stopped, Henrietta’s disappointment stared back at her, as blank pages with lines waiting for words. Riffling through the remaining blank pages, the words appeared again and this time it was a letter.

To my darling granddaughter this book I give to you with all my possible love, I have no idea If you shall find my hidden treasure but have perfect hope and faith in the fact that you shall. I wrote those poems over the expanse of my years for the places I love, the hills, woods, hollows, and streams of this land. This place is home to me, and I hope it will be to you one day too.

This provoked tears to well up in Henrietta’s big blue eyes for this would never be her home, especially if her mother sold it. And there was no way her mother would not sell it. Unless of course a pile of money fell from the sky to pay off her debt.

Henrietta felt drained and slightly dizzy from all the crying, so she decided to go see if she looked as bad as she felt. Looking into the gilded bathroom mirror revealed what she suspected, and so she did the only sensible thing. She washed her face with cool water, at least her mother would be happy. She listlessly made her way back to the parlor and sat back down on the ground. Looking at the clock it was only ten minutes before the buyers and lawyer arrived, but just enough time to finish what she had started.

Well, my dear, I shall get to what it is I wanted to tell you, it is something new, a story and a gift, just for you.

It was a Sunday afternoon during a heatwave I had decided to go to my friend Hans’ house to see how he was fairing with the weather. Now Hans was German but spoke very good English he was a good friend and had the nicest chickens I had ever seen; he would talk endlessly about the breeding of those handsome hens (a German bird I think, and truly I wish I had paid better attention) but they where nice sleek plump hens with gorgeous feathers.

Anyhow when I got to his house a strange man in a suit was wandering around. When I got out of my truck, he asked my name, once I told him he told me that Hans had died three nights prior. I was surprised as last I had seen him, he seemed to be in perfect health. The man proceeded to tell me that Hans had left me his precious hens and that he wanted me to take them as soon as possible so that he might take his leave.

So, I took the birds and put them in a separate coop from my other hens to let them settle in. Everything had been going well except for that they refused to lay eggs. I tried all the tricks in the book but still nothing. I pondered the dilemma I surely could not sell Hans’ precious hens even if they were getting free room and board. They had laid eggs for Hans, so I gave them some more time.

Everyday I checked the coop and everyday left empty handed. Then one day while I was planting some flowers, I remembered Hans telling me that his chickens liked flowers and that they laid him eggs worth gold when he gave it to them. So that afternoon I took some flowers and gave them to the chickens, surprisingly they devoured them in a single peck!

After giving the new hens a speech on where to lay their eggs, I went back to work confident that the next morning there would be eggs waiting for me. And sure enough the next morning there were six eggs to be exact. So, whistling a victory tune I went back to the house eggs in tow.

Upon entering the kitchen, I grabbed a frying pan and went to go crack one of the eggs, everything was normal except where the rich creamy yolk should have been there was a shiny sphere of gold, I could not believe my eyes, I spent 20 minutes standing there, my mind completely blank. I eventually decided to see if it was real gold, surly a chicken could not lay gold eggs.

So, I quickly went and got my hat and drove to our local pawn shop to see the value of…. chicken gold?

When I arrived a jolly fat man at the counter asked what he could do for me, I placed the little gold sphere on the counter. The jolly man looked at the gold carefully and after testing it he told me it was worth about $500 dollars. I thanked him and drove home fairly bursting out of my skin. When I got home, I quickly grabbed your grandmother’s trunk the one she had loved so much, the gray wood was still as elegantly carved as ever and the cushioned blue silk on the inside still looked new. I grabbed my little treasure and carefully placed it in the box. Then went to the kitchen and cracked the last five eggs, five more gold spheres ensued. After cleaning and polishing them I put them in Grandams trunk.

For the next 7 days I filled my trunk with treasure until I had collected $20,00 dollars in gold yolks. My dear Henrietta, I give it all to you, the trunk, the gold, the chickens. I have hidden the box ………under the…………..you must find it.

Enjoy your gift and spend it wisely.

Love Grandad

Henrietta closed the book softly she could hear voices outside.

One small voice inside of her said that what she was thinking was a bad idea. Go serve some lemonade it pleaded. She pushed the voice aside, and quickly got up and made her way to the porch ignoring the pompous lawyer, the buyers and her mother’s aghast expression at her appearance (you see Henrietta had fireplace soot smudged on her white cotton dress). Henrietta plucked the signing papers off the table, ran down the steps ignoring her mother and the lawyers shouts to stop, she ran past the gardens, past the barns and sheds and straight to the glorious chicken coop, she flung open the doors on there creaky hinges dust swirling in the air.

And here my dear readers, I must close my little black book, to keep you in suspense and upon my dull hook.