Ziggy grinned as he brought in an old bicycle with two flat tires. “The kickstand still works, mon.”
This was their seating arrangement, or they could push everything aside and sit on the blanket that Ziggy’s mom had left on the back steps. She never asked questions and never asked to see what they were doing, but she always seemed to know exactly what they needed.
Hanging from the ceiling by a string around its neck—they couldn’t figure out any other way to do it—was Rashawn’s dinosaur.
Jerome stared at the dinosaur. “Really mellow.”
“Awesome,” said Rashawn. “You oughta be an architect, Rico. It turned out just like you said it would. How’d you know that?”
“I don’t know.” Rico shrugged his shoulders. “I just feel it and most of the time it works.”
“We gotta have our first meeting and make up rules,” said Ziggy. “Okay, the first meeting of the Black Dinosaurs is officially called to order. Rule one: Everyone who comes into the clubhouse must first touch Rashawn’s dinosaur—for good luck.”
“Good idea,” agreed Jerome, “but he needs a name.”
“His name,” Rashawn proclaimed, rising from his seat in the three-legged chair, “is Blackasaurus!”
“Blackasaurus it shall be!” Ziggy proclaimed, with a bow to Rashawn. “Now for the secret password.”
“It should change every day,” suggested Jerome.
“No, just every week,” said Rico, “’cause we won’t meet every single day.”
“Okay, mon,” agreed Ziggy. “What’s the password for this week?”
“How about ‘Tuskegee’?” said Rashawn.
“That’s a good one,” agreed Rico. “Don’t forget it now. No one will be admitted into the clubhouse without the password.”
“Accepted,” said Ziggy. He was really enjoying his role as monitor of the meeting.
“Should we have officers like a president and a treasurer?” asked Jerome.
“No, let’s just take turns. Whoever is sitting on the bike is president for that meeting,” suggested Rico.
“Sounds good to me!” said Ziggy, who was sitting on the bike. “Now, what about a secret handshake?”
“That’s stupid,” said Jerome. “We don’t need that.”
“Okay,” said Ziggy. “We do need treasures, though. At the next meeting, we will each bring one official treasure to be donated to the Black Dinosaurs.”
Jerome looked at his watch and said, “We better hurry up and adjourn this meeting. I gotta babysit.”
“Agreed,” said Ziggy. “We’ll meet again tomorrow at noon with the treasures, mon!”
IT WAS JUST BEFORE NOON THE NEXT DAY, AND Jerome was the first to arrive at the clubhouse. He didn’t want anyone to see the treasure that he had hidden under his shirt, and he wanted to spray for bugs before the others got there. Satisfied that all the bugs were outside the clubhouse, instead of inside with him, Jerome touched the dinosaur for luck, then sat down on the bicycle. “I think I’ll be president for today,” he said to himself.
A knock sounded at the door. “What’s the password?” shouted Jerome.
“Tuskegee!” cried Rashawn. Jerome opened the door and Rashawn entered, carrying a large brown paper bag. Rashawn touched the dinosaur and said, “What’s up, Blackasaurus? What’s up, Jerome? Where’s everybody else?”
Just then Rico knocked and yelled, “Tuskegee!” When Rashawn opened the door, Rico gave Blackasaurus a good swat and sat down on the lawn chair. “Ziggy’s not here yet?” he asked.
“No, but can’t you hear him?” asked Rashawn, laughing. Ziggy was singing a Jamaican folk song at the top of his lungs, crashing through the uncleared bushes of his backyard.
“He’s got a long way to go before he qualifies as a spy for the FBI,” joked Jerome.
Ziggy knocked on the door and yelled, “Open up, mon. Ziggy has arrived!”
Rico stuck his head out the window and said, “What’s the password, Ziggy?”
Ziggy smacked himself on the forehead and groaned. “I forgot!” he yelled. “But you know who I am. You just called me Ziggy!”
“Rules say you gotta say the password,” said Jerome, who had stuck his head out the other window.
“Tyrannosaurus!”
“Nope.”
“Tapioca!”
“You might be out there all day!”
“Tahiti!”
“You’re getting closer—sorta.”
“I know it. Wait a minute… it’s coming to me… it’s a college—a famous black college… uh… it’s… Morehouse. No… wait—I remember. I remember. It’s… TUSKEGEE!” The door swung open and Ziggy barreled through the door.
“Maybe a password isn’t such a good idea,” he said. “It could hurt a mon’s brain, to have to think so hard on a Saturday.”
“No way, man,” said Jerome. “We gotta make a harder one for next week, just to watch you try to remember it!”
“Did everyone bring a treasure?” asked Rico.
“For sure, mon,” said Ziggy. “Just wait till you see what I brought!”
“I’ve got one too,” said Rashawn.
“Me too,” said Rico.
“And I do too, so let’s begin,” said Jerome. “Since I’m president for today, I’ll go first.” He reached under his T-shirt and pulled out a small item wrapped in a paper towel. Silence filled the clubhouse as Jerome unwrapped the object.
When the last layer of paper toweling had been removed, Rico asked quietly, “What is it?” It was a small, carved wooden box with little metal bars nailed to the top.
“This,” Jerome answered, “is a kalimba. It’s an instrument that’s played in Africa. My grandmother made it when she was a little girl, and she told me her grandmother had showed her how to make it.”
“What does it sound like?” asked Rashawn.
Jerome carefully plucked the metal bars. The music was strange and mysterious, but somehow familiar to the boys. “I bet it has magical powers, mon,” Ziggy whispered.
Rico said, “My treasure isn’t magic, but it’s got power. I got it in Chicago when I went to visit my father.” He reached into the small blue backpack he had been wearing and pulled out a medium-size black object.
“A flashlight?” asked Rashawn. “What’s so special about that?”
“It’s not just any old flashlight,” replied Rico. “Look!” He pushed a button and the beam of light that came from the lantern was so bright the boys had to cover their eyes. Then Rico pushed another button and a siren began to wail. It sounded as if a police car was in the clubhouse with them. When Rico pushed the third button, a whistle shrieked in their ears, louder than the one the lifeguards used at the pool. Finally he pushed the last button. He said softly, “Check this out.” What came out was a loud, booming, “CHECK THIS OUT!” There was a small microphone that made any voice loud and powerful.
“Awesome!”
“Fantastic!”
“Turn it off! We don’t want anyone to know about our secret weapon!” said Rashawn. Rico turned their secret weapon off and grinned with delight.
Jerome asked, “What’s your treasure, Rashawn?”
Rashawn reached into the paper bag and removed a large metal box. It was a little dented, but it was sturdy.
“A box?” asked Rico.
“A safe!” replied Rashawn. “My dad said we could have it. It has a combination lock that really works. We can keep our treasures in it and no one will ever find them.”
“What a good idea!” said Jerome. “Will they all fit? Wait a minute. Ziggy, what’s your treasure?”
Ziggy had been twitching impatiently and looked as if he were about to explode. “Wait till you see, mon! Just you wait!” He reached into his pocket and slowly removed a package wrapped in tin foil. “Is the door locked?” he asked. “This is super-secret-spy-stuff.”
“Yeah, man,” replied Jerome. “As locked as it’s gonna get. What’s that you got there?”
Ziggy slowl
y unwrapped the foil.
“Oh, boy!”
“Wow, again!”
“Do you think we’ll get in trouble?”
“You worry too much, Rico-mon,” said Ziggy. “What possible harm could these be?” Ziggy held out a large package of firecrackers.
“FIRECRACKERS!” SHOUTED RASHAWN. “AWESOME!”
“Those will be our last-chance secret weapons,” said Jerome. “We won’t use them unless we absolutely have to. We better keep them in the safe for sure!”
“My mom would kill me if she found out we had firecrackers,” Rico said nervously.
“That’s why the meetings of the Black Dinosaurs have to be kept a secret,” Jerome replied. “We’re not going to do anything stupid with the firecrackers. It’s just nice to know we have them if we need them.”
“I know,” said Rico, “but my mom is always bugging me about being careful.”
“Your mum has raised you well, Rico-mon,” said Ziggy. “But not to worry. These are called pop-bangers. Any kid in Jamaica can buy them at the corner store. All they do is make noise. Wanna see?”
“No,” said Rashawn. “Let’s not waste them. We’ll save them for a special Black Dinosaur celebration.”
“Agreed,” said Jerome. “Let’s put the treasures in the safe. Rashawn, what’s the combination?”
“Five-ten-fifteen,” said Rashawn.
“That’s easy to remember. Even Ziggy can remember that!” Rico said, laughing.
Jerome placed the treasures carefully into the safe and locked it. “Now what? Where should we keep the safe? Anybody can come in here and take it.”
“You’re right,” said Rashawn. “These things are too special to just leave sitting in here.”
“So what would a good spy do with his secret weapons?” asked Ziggy. “Bury them, of course!”
“Of course!” yelled Rico. “We’ve gotta bury our treasures!”
Jerome stood up. “I’ll go get a shovel.”
“I’ll go borrow my dad’s shovel,” said Rashawn, “but I gotta take it back before he gets home.”
“I can get a shovel too!” said Ziggy. “There’s one in our garage.”
Jerome and Rashawn returned in a few minutes with large, sturdy digging shovels. Rashawn’s dog, Afrika, followed behind him.
“Why’d you bring him?” asked Rico.
“He can be our watchdog,” replied Rashawn.
“Yeah, right. He can watch as spies and robbers take our secrets and treasures. He might even show the robbers where we hid our stuff,” said Rico with a chuckle. Afrika ignored Rico and flopped down in the shade.
Ziggy showed up a few minutes later, also carrying a shovel, yelling, “Tuskegee—I remembered!”
Rashawn grinned at his friend. “You only need the password at the beginning of the meeting, but we’re proud of you for remembering.”
“What’s that you’ve got, Ziggy?” asked Rico.
“A shovel! What does it look like, mon?” Ziggy replied.
“It looks like a snow shovel, that’s what it looks like!” Jerome told him with a laugh. “What kinda hole you gonna dig with a snow shovel?”
“You never know when it might snow, mon! You think Ziggy would just grab any old shovel from a dark garage? You saying that Ziggy is scared of the dark and didn’t check to see what kind of shovel he got? It’s for carrying dirt away from the hole, my friend!”
“Okay, man, anything you say,” said Jerome. “But now we have only two shovels to dig with.”
“So let’s take turns. Two people dig for ten minutes, while the other two supervise. Ziggy, you and Rico go first,” suggested Jerome.
“Be glad to, mon,” said Ziggy. “What looks like a good spot?”
“Back here in this soft dirt behind the clubhouse,” said Rico. “It shouldn’t take too long.”
The boys took turns digging, and before they knew it, the hole was more than a foot deep.
“Just a little bit deeper,” said Rico. “We want it to be completely buried.”
“My hands hurt,” complained Jerome. “It’s deep enough.”
“Okay, Rico,” said Rashawn. “I’m tired too, but I’m gonna take my last turn. Besides, all the Jamaican iced tea is gone. It’s about time to adjourn this meeting of the Black Dinosaurs.”
Rashawn and Ziggy worked for a few minutes, making the hole deep enough and wide enough to hide their treasure box securely. Even Ziggy was getting tired, when suddenly, his shovel went clunk!
“Hey, mon! What we got here? A rock?” asked Ziggy.
Rashawn’s shovel had also hit something hard. “No, Ziggy, it’s not a rock. I think… I mean it looks like it might be… Brush that dirt out of the way.… I think it’s a box!”
“A pirate’s treasure chest!” exclaimed Ziggy. “We’re rich!”
“Let’s get it out!” Jerome cried excitedly.
The boys dug furiously for a few minutes. They even used Ziggy’s snow shovel. Slowly the dirt disappeared from around the box, which was about three feet long, one foot wide, and one foot high. It was made of a very thick metal that had once been painted red and was badly rusted.
“It looks awfully heavy. Do you think we can lift it out?” asked Jerome.
“Why don’t we just try to open it instead,” suggested Rashawn.
“Then we can get the gold out and be rich!” added Ziggy. He wasn’t tired anymore. This was what Ziggy called a real adventure.
“It looks more like a tool box than a treasure chest to me,” said Rico. “Don’t spend your gold yet.”
Rashawn inspected the box. “The lock looks pretty rusted. I bet a good-size rock would bust it. Let’s go for it.”
Ziggy found a big rock in the backyard and the lock fell off easily after only a few strong blows. The boys wanted that lock off much more than the lock wanted to stay on.
“Let’s open it, mon,” whispered Ziggy. He was twitching again. This was just too much to sit still for.
Afrika had been watching the boys with very little interest. But when they approached the box to open it, he growled.
“What’s the matter with Afrika?” asked Rico.
“I don’t know,” replied Rashawn. “He’s never done that before. Just ignore him.”
When Rashawn touched the box, Afrika jumped up and began to bark as if someone were stealing his food dish.
“Do you think he’s scared?” asked Jerome.
“I think he’s nuts!” said Rico. “Hurry up and open it!”
Afrika continued to growl.
“Now I gotta know what’s in that box,” said Rashawn. “I’ll hold Afrika. Rico, open the box.”
“Me? I’m not gonna open it! Maybe it’s not pirate’s treasure. Maybe it’s pirate’s blood instead,” said Rico with a frown.
“In the first place,” said Jerome, “there probably isn’t any pirate treasure buried in Ohio. And blood would have dried up by now.”
“So you open it.”
“I’m not gonna open it. You open it!”
Ziggy couldn’t wait any longer. He was much too excited to be scared. As Afrika growled fiercely, Ziggy lifted the lid of the box. The boys crept closer to get a look inside.
“What is it?” asked Rico, who still expected buckets of blood.
“Bones!” whispered Ziggy. “It’s full of bones!”
“BONES? WHAT KIND OF BONES?” ASKED JEROME.
“Don’t ask me, mon,” said Ziggy softly. “I’ve never seen real bones before.”
“Maybe they’re dinosaur bones,” suggested Rashawn. “If they are, we could really get rich. I heard about some kids right here in Ohio who found some dinosaur bones behind their house, and a museum wanted to give them a million dollars to dig up their backyard.”
“So what happened, mon?” asked Ziggy.
“Their parents wouldn’t let the museum dig—but the kids got their pictures in the paper.”
“Be for real,” said Rico. “These couldn’t possibly be dinosaur
bones. In the first place, they’re much too small. And who would put dinosaur bones in a box, anyway?”
“Do you think they’re human bones?” asked Jerome fearfully.
“I’m not sure,” said Rico. “They don’t look like the skeleton in Mr. Kelly’s science classroom, that’s for sure!”
“What are we gonna do?” asked Rashawn.
Ziggy, who had gotten unusually quiet, finally spoke up. “Hey, guys, we got us a real live mystery—or a real dead one.…” He tried to make them smile, but they were too nervous to laugh at Ziggy this time. “We gotta keep this secret and be like spies to find out some answers.”
“Shouldn’t we tell our parents?” asked Rico. “Maybe there’s some kind of dead bone disease floating around in that box.”
“We’re not gonna touch anything, mon,” said Ziggy. “We’re gonna close up the box and search for clues. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” said Jerome, but he looked scared. “What about you, Rashawn?”
Afrika was still growling and wouldn’t go near the box of bones. Rashawn looked at the others and said, “This is really scary, but it’s the most awesome thing ever to happen to us! Let’s see what we can find out about this mystery. If we can’t solve it, we’ll tell my dad. He’s a cop, you know. Ziggy, you’re the spy expert. What should we do?”
Ziggy liked the idea that they were finally taking his spy skills seriously. “First,” he said, “we close up the box and cover it over with dirt again—not a lot—just enough so that no one can see it. Then we bury our treasure box like we planned. Then we start looking for clues.”
“How?” asked Rico. “We don’t even know what to look for.”
“We start by asking questions,” said Ziggy. “Ask at home and around the neighborhood. Nobody knows what we found, so we’re safe to ask anybody. Be cool, dudes. A good spy never lets anybody know what he’s up to.”
“Let’s meet tomorrow at the same time,” said Jerome. “The Black Dinosaurs spy patrol is now on duty.”
“What if we don’t find out anything?” asked Rashawn.