Flotsam Page 6

  Then circling “Mr. Burnham’s lunchbox” on the list, she stood up. “Okay. Mr. Burnham’s lunchbox it is. Tomorrow after school, we will start our search.”

  Chapter Nine

  The Lost Lunchbox

  Amy and Brier trudged through the thick woods, located just above Crab Apple’s great Turquoise River, following a well-beaten path up the mountain.

  “You sure you know where you’re going?” Brier asked. “I mean. You seem so sure. But are you really?”

  Amy grabbed a twig, and snapped it in half. “Brier, when I’m looking for lost things, I never really know where I’m going. I just know that I’m going wherever, to find whatever it is that is lost.”

  Brier nodded. “Hmm…okay. I guess. I’m just a little nervous. I’ve never really been in this part of the woods before. Tristan and his gang are always up here, doing something.”

  Amy marched on ahead. “That’s why we need to hurry.”

  A short time later, they paused before a quiet clearing that overlooked the lake. All around, the trees had been heavily scarred with the etchings from pocketknives.

  “Somebody’s been up here, a lot,” Brier murmured, running his finger along the scarred bark.

  “Hey,” Amy called, “come over here. I think we’re getting closer. I can feel it.”

  Brier came up alongside Amy who was following a line of red boulders covered in moss, and water that tumbled over them. The further they followed the slippery boulders, the more mossy and slick they became. Amy stopped beneath a large overhang of rocks that dripped with a thousand droplets of water.

  “It’s beautiful,” Amy said, letting the water fall onto her skin. “I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

  “Yeah,” Brier murmured. “I never even knew this was here.”

  “You never knew a lot of things,” Amy said, sending Brier a subtle smile. She walked next to the rock, and draped some of the long stringy moss through her fingers, like it was an octopus. She was getting warmer. She could feel it.

  “What is it?” Brier asked, noting the strange look on her face.

  “It’s close,” Amy murmured. “Very close.”

  “You think Mr. Burnham lost his lunchbox here?”

  “No. I don’t think he lost it. I think someone stole it.”

  Brier made a face. “Okay. So where do we look?”

  “We look…” Amy said, scanning the area, until her eyes rested in a crease in the boulders, right where a great amount of water poured down from above, in torrents. “Right over there!”

  They scrambled over the slippery rock, and through the flood of water, finding themselves behind the waterfall, in a cave.

  “This is kind of cool,” Brier said, looking around, in awe. “The water sounds cool.”

  “Yeah,” Amy agreed.

  They moved further into the cavern, only to come to a stop before a door.

  “That’s weird, what’s a door doing in here?” Brier said, trying the door. “Darn. It’s locked.”

  Without having to look, Amy’s hand went to the side of the rock wall, and felt around until she found a key, carefully placed in a crack.

  “Wow,” Brier exclaimed. “You’re good Amy. Real good.”

  Amy put the key into the lock, and turned it. The door clicked open.

  Before them was a vast room, lit from above by small holes in the ceiling where the sun shown through. Numberless shelves lined the room, filled with valuable items, expensive looking furniture, TV’s, stereos, and loads of beer bottles.

  “Wowzers. If I didn’t know any better,” Brier said, whistling. “I’d say this is somebody’s Geocash, gone bonkers.”

  Amy laughed. “No it’s more like Ali Baba’s cave. Look over there. Our bikes.”

  “No, way!” Brier cried, running to his bike. “We’ve got them back.” His face suddenly fell, and his excitement diminished. “Dude, Amy. This means that this is Tristan’s hideout. His merry bunch of men are going to kill us if they find us here.”

  Amy nodded. “Yeah. I guess so. We better be going. But let’s take our bikes back.”

  Brier shook his head. “No. If they see us riding our bikes, they’ll know we’ve been here. And if they know we’ve been here, our lives will be over.”

  “So you’re saying you want them to keep our bikes?”

  “No. That’s not what I’m saying at all. I just don’t want to die.”

  “Okay. We leave the bikes. And I take the lunchbox.”

  “Wait, you found the lunchbox?”

  “Yup. It was right over there on that shelf.” She went over and held the lunchbox up. It was a beat up looking piece of metal, with chains wrapped around it, with nearly a dozen padlocks bolting it shut.

  “Gosh,” Brier breathed, “Mr. Heckler wasn’t kidding when he said Mr. Burnham really liked his lunchbox. I wonder what’s inside.”

  Amy tipped the lunchbox on its side, and listened for a sound. But there was only a slight rustling, as if whatever was inside it was cushioned by lots of paper. “I have no idea what’s inside it. It’s amazing that Tristan hasn’t already opened it up.”

  “Looks like he tried,” Brier said, pointing to the many dents in the side of the lunchbox where someone had tried to hammer it open. “I guess he got tired and went home. Lucky for us. Bet there’s something really cool inside---like diamonds, or gold, maybe even drugs.”

  Amy laughed. “It is only a lunchbox, Brier. Maybe there’s only moldy food in it. Maybe some rotten potato salad or a top of a wedding cake. You know, people can be very sentimental about food.”

  Brier raised his eyebrows. “Sentimental enough to carry potato salad around in a lunchbox for ten or twenty years?”

  Amy shrugged. “Who knows, maybe it was a really good potato salad.”

  “Honestly, Amy. I’m worried about you. No potato salad has ever been that good.”

  Amy laughed, and turned to go. “Brier, come on we probably better get out of here.”

  “Just one minute,” Brier said, filing through the spoils of the cave. “I need to find my camera.”

  “Your camera’s on that shelf by that silver pot. Let’s get out of here.”

  “Thanks, Amy,” Brier said, snatching his camera, and snapping a few shots of the cave as he followed Amy out the door. “When I get this film developed, Tristan and his gang are going to be sorry they ever stole our bikes.”

  “Yeah, for reals,” Amy said, making sure to lock the door behind them, and to place the key exactly where she had found it. They both stepped quickly beneath the curtain of water falling over the opening of the cave, and made their way back to the clearing.

  “I’ll bet we never see our bikes again,” Brier mused, kicking up dirt as they went.

  “I wouldn’t say that,” Amy said. “Besides, we know where they are now…” her voice drifted off, and her face fell.

  “Drat. I totally forgot to look for my wallet while I was there. I had something really important in it.”

  She looked back toward the cave. “Maybe, I could just go there quickly, and look for it. But then again, I might not find it, anyway.”

  Brier looked at her, confused. “But don’t you know exactly where it is?”

  “No, Brier. I already told you that I can’t find stuff that is my own, very easily. It’s a curse I have, I guess.”

  “That must be very frustrating.”

  “It is,” Amy agreed, starting back toward the cave. She stopped, turned around and gazed at the trees behind them, in apprehension. She thought she saw movement in the trees.

  “Brier,” she whispered, motioning him to come closer. “I think someone’s watching us.”

  Brier’s eyes grew wide, and he let out a low groan. “It’s Tristan, and his merry men. I’m sure of it. Amy, we’ve got to get out of here. Forget your wallet. Let’s go.”

  As if to further emphasize his words, the woods suddenly filled with whooping and hollering. The trees seemed to shake, and then all went
eerily quiet.

  “Dude,” Brier said, in a panic, running ahead, “they’re out there, hundreds of them. They’re going to kill us. I know they will.”

  “Wait for me,” Amy called, following Brier. An arrow whizzed past her head, and pierced a tree beside her. She darted to the right, hearing howls, and weird noises everywhere as if the whole forest was possessed by demons.

  Another arrow zipped past her left side. Another punctured the arm of her hoody, just below her armpit, missing her arm by a fraction of an inch

  “Freak!” she screamed, wrenching the arrow from her hoody and breaking the tip off. She stuffed the sharp end into her pocket, and ran to the edge of the cliff, bumping into Brier causing them both to tumble head over heals down the incline, into the Turquoise River.

  Amy came up out of the water sputtering, and coughing. She couldn’t see Brier anywhere. “Brier!” she called. “BRIER!”

  Just then, Brier bobbed up out of the water coughing and spitting. “Dang, Tristan,” Brier cried, lifting the camera he had placed round his neck. “My camera’s ruined. I’m going to bust Tristan for this. He has taken this Robin Hood thing way too far this time. Stealing is one thing. But shooting arrows at us is going beyond the line of sanity.”

  “Yeah,” Amy agreed. “He could have killed us, and nobody would have known.”

  “Amy, look!” Brier pointed to the lunchbox, a few feet away from them. It was floating just beneath the surface, and starting to sink. “Grab it quick, before it goes down.”

  Amy swam out to it and snatched it up just in time. “At least we still have this.”

  “Yeah,” Brier said. “I just hope that whatever’s in it isn’t ruined.”

  Amy and Brier both swam to the shore and sat on the edge to dry off, gazing at the ledge where they had rolled off into the river, wondering what Tristan was planning next.

  “At least I can cross two things off my list, now,” Amy said, absently taking the drenched list from her pocket, and spreading it on the grass to dry.

  “Two things?” Brier wondered.

  “Well, we got the lunchbox, and I kept the tip of the arrowhead they shot at me.” She held up the sharp tip of the arrow that had nearly embedded itself into her arm.

  Brier took the arrow, and held it up to the light. “Wow, it does look authentic. Wonder if that’s what Tristan and his gang do up there all day---make arrowheads? Too bad they have to shoot them at people.”

  “Yeah. Too bad.”

  Amy placed the lunchbox on the grass and gazed at it. “Bet whatever’s in it is wet. Maybe we should open it up and see what’s inside.”

  Brier looked eagerly at the lunchbox. “That’s a great idea. But how do you suggest we open it?”

  Amy smiled, and pointed to the back of the lunchbox where the screws from the rusty hinges poked out considerably. “I think our little plunge made them come loose.” She twisted the loose screws in one hinge, until one by one, they came out. She did the same thing with the other hinge, until it also fell off. Then she slipped the loose chains that were wrapped around the lunchbox off to one side, and paused, feeling a little guilty.

  “What are you waiting for? Open it!” Brier commanded, gazing at the box with great expectation.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t.”

  “Now you say that, after you’ve gone through all the work to get it open. Look, if we don’t open it, whatever’s inside may get ruined.”

  “Yeah, you’re right,” she said, cracking the lunchbox open just a fraction.

  “I can’t see anything,” Brier complained. “Open it wider.”

  Amy opened it completely. All the water that it had collected started to drain out. The bulk of what the lunchbox contained was mostly papers, written in German, along with foreign newspaper clippings, and black and white photos. There were a few old bullet shells, and a note that read, “Always remember.”

  “What a bunch of junk!” Brier exploded. “Nothing but a bunch of sentimental rubbish. Can’t believe we risked our necks for this…this…stupid trash.”

  Amy held up one of the black and white photos, trying to dry it off. It was a picture of a German officer, standing behind what looked like a barricade. “If this Mr. Burnham carried this stuff around with him for thirty years, there must be a good reason for it.”

  “Yeah,” Brier said, standing up, “because the guy is crazy. I should have known. My dad say’s he invents all sorts of weird things and hardly ever goes out of his workshop to see people. The man is bonkers, nuts. Crazy. And I’m crazy for getting roped into this. I’m sure Tristan saw us coming out of his hideout. Now we’re going to be on his most-wanted list. I won’t be able to sleep at night. Amy, our days our numbered and I don’t want to spend them here. I’m going home.”

  “Okay, sour puss,” Amy said, standing up. “Let’s go. I guess I’ll take this stuff back to Mr. Burnham, later.”

  Chapter Ten

  Rocks Bite

  Amy looked at her list and with a black pen, crossed out the words: #2. Find our neighbor, Mr. Burnham’s lost lunchbox. He saw me last week, and asked me if I had seen it. According to rumor, he has been carrying that old lunchbox around for years, and would greatly appreciate you finding it for him.

  #3. Find an arrowhead.

  She had taken the liberty of stringing up a line in her room to dry Mr. Burnham’s papers and pictures. When she felt like it, she guessed she would take the lunchbox back to him. When she did, she wanted to know the story behind the pictures. Most of the papers were written in German, and didn’t mean anything to her. She thought of asking Mr. Heckler what they said, but she thought that he might get angry with her for delving into Mr. Burnham’s personal things, so she wouldn’t tell him.

  She wondered what she should find next on Mr. Heckler’s Lost-Things List. Then as if to answer her question, her little kid neighbor, Nate, appeared at the door.

  “I need you to take me to church, Amy,” he said, in his little kid voice. “I asked my dad to take me, but he told me to ask my mom. My mom told me to ask Mr. Heckler, and Mr. Heckler told me to ask you.” Nate smiled, and looked at Amy with big eyes. He wore a white shirt, dirty tennis shoes, and a tie that was much too big for him. His eyes looked big and pleading. He pooched out his lower lip, as if he were about to cry. “Please, take me. Amy. I really, really want to go to church. But my family is full of sinners, and they don’t like church because it makes them feel bad inside when they listen to the preacher because they know they are mighty wicked.”

  Amy smiled. “What if I’m a mighty wicked sinner too? I’ve never been to church before. Can I still go?”

  Nate nodded. “All sinners go. That’s how they un-sin themselves, I think. But you have to want to be un-sinned, or the Lord won’t have you, and the devil will live in your heart, and you won’t want to go to church, like my mom and dad.”

  “Oh,” Amy said, holding in a giggle. “So you think your mom and dad don’t want to be un-sinned?”

  Nate shook his head. “Nope. They like to sin. They swears all the time. I hear them. Whenever mom burns dinner she says, the D and H word. And my dad says the Sh-poop word.”

  Amy smile grew wider. “That’s just terrible, Nate.”

  “Yeah,” Nate agreed. “It is. Especially if they get to come to heaven with me, without having to come to church. It might be kind of embarrassing, if they swear around God. Bet he doesn’t like hearing about hell, and poop, in heaven.”

  “Oh,” Amy murmured. “I wouldn’t be too worried. I’ll bet with a church-going kid like you, your parents will soon shape up.”

  Nate paused, and got a dreadfully serious look on his face. “I hope so. I really hope so. So, are you going to walk me to church?”

  “Sure, I’ll take you.”

  “But are you going to go inside?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You should. But you need to wear a dress though.”

  “Fine, turn around, and I’ll slip a skirt on.”<
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  Amy quickly pulled on a skirt, and put on the fanciest looking shoes she had. “Okay,” she said, when she had finished. “I’m ready.”

  Nate folded his arms, looking at her as if he was a grown up. “Okay. Good. Let’s go.”

  Amy grabbed Nate’s hand, and they started toward the church house.

  “This way,” Nate said, pulling her along in the opposite direction.

  “No,” Amy said, pulling him back. “It’s this way.”

  Nate stuck out his lip and frowned. “How do you know? You haven’t even been.”

  “I told you I know how to find things.”

  “Only lost things. A church house isn’t lost.”

  “Well it is if, you don’t know where it is.”

  “But I do.”

  “Then why were you taking me in the opposite direction?”

  Nate fell silent, and murmured something moody under his breath.

  Amy let out a tired sigh, and glanced behind her just to make sure Flotsam wasn’t following. Lately he’d taken to following her almost everywhere. But to her relief, he was nowhere in sight. She was glad that she had fed Flotsam earlier that morning. By all calculations, she supposed that he would be sleeping in the backyard, perfectly unaware of her leaving.

  Amy smiled. It was a beautiful day. Plus, she was going to find the church, so she could cross off another item on her find-it list. Funny. This would be her first time inside a church.

  Nate let out an angry grunt, kicking a rock. “Stupid rock. It bit my toe!”

  “Rocks don’t bite,” Amy said. “Besides, they don’t have mouths.”

  Nate’s eyes got big. “But this one did. It had big ugly teeth, and it made my big toe bleed.”

  “Wow,” Amy said, trying to sound amazed. “I guess we better watch out for biting rocks. They sound dangerous.”

  “Yeah. I think I need a band-aid.”

  “I don’t have a band-aid.”

  He started to cry. “But it hurts real bad. I might bleed to death.”

  Amy’s peaceful walk to church was suddenly at a end, and by the time Amy and Nate walked up to the church house doors, Amy felt as about as spiritual as a cactus patch.

  Brier met them at the door and held it open. “Morning,” Brier said, smiling at Nate’s church attire. “I didn’t know you were coming, Amy.”