Flotsam

  “Who?”

  She held the picture so Tristan could see. On it was a picture of two children. One was of a small dark-haired girl hugging a dark haired boy. “The girl in the picture is your twin sister, you thick head.”

  “My twin sister?”

  “Yes. Who else? Dumped you two off at different locations. Seems you guys have found each other easily enough, though.”

  “You mean I had a twin sister all this time, and you didn’t tell me?”

  “No, of course I didn’t tell you. It wasn’t relevant at the time. And if you have any sense in you, you’ll stay far away from her. It seems she’s inherited her father’s gift for finding things. He could find anything. Every bottle of beer, every cig. Drove me nuts. He used to work for some secret society, locating people they needed to find. Then one day he found something he shouldn’t have. Got killed over it. That’s when I decided to dump you guys off. Didn’t want kids same as your father. But you’ve inherited my side of the genes, though. Losers. All of them. No. Don’t look sad, Tristan. It’s a good thing. Losers are more useful than finders. Less dangerous. So, believe me when I say that you are the most fortunate of the two. Take care to stay far away from your sister. Seekers are dangerous. With them, there’s no hiding.”

  Tristan looked at his mother, dumbfounded. “So that’s it? Don’t you want to come with us? Don’t you want to see her.”

  “Why would I? Especially if she’s anything like her father. Seekers are trouble. Trouble. Once people start finding out about her, they will come by the thousands, all searching for something. But she won’t be able to help them all. No. And do you want to know what the worst part of it is?”

  Tristan shrugged. “No? What?”

  “It is just that the losers, like yourself, will always use the Seekers and Finders to get what they want. But it never works, Tristan. Losers always lose in the end, especially when they go to Seekers for the answers.” Her voice grew shrill and wavy. “Get as far away from her as you can. Believe me on this one, Tristan.”

  Tristan gazed at his mother, suddenly repulsed by her.

  “Let’s go Tristan,” Locksley said, taking the suitcase, and what was left of the money. “Your mother is a delusional maniac. Our business is done here.”

  Tristan nodded, and cast his mother one last glance before following Locksley to his truck. She stood there under the streetlight, with the rain falling around her, looking like a dark spirit guarding the portals of hell, waiting for the perfect time to open the doorway to let her minions escape.

  Chapter Twenty

  The Sign

  “Wake up!” Locksley cried, shaking Amy. “Time for round two.”

  Amy groaned, and blinked. “Round two?”

  “Yes,” Locksley repeated. “Round two. The information you gave us was...faulty.”

  “So you didn’t find it?”

  “No, we didn’t find it.”

  “Are you sure? I saw the money. It was in the…”

  “It doesn’t matter what you saw. It wasn’t there. Right Tristan?”

  Tristan stepped from the shadows, holding up a lantern. He looked tired, and his face looked hard and unfeeling. “Locksley’s right. It wasn’t there.”

  “But,” Amy protested. “I’m sure…”

  “Don’t act so surprised,” Locksley shot back. “You play one more trick, just one, and your friends are going to die right in front of your eyes. Got that? First the deer, then the boy.”

  “Okay,” Amy said, her voice trembling. “I understand. I’ll try to find the money again. Maybe I got something mixed-up.”

  “No!” Locksley shouted. “Not the money. Find something else. Something big. Something like this.” He pointed to Mr. Heckler’s Lost Things List. “Find ole’ outlaw Leatherspur’s lost lightning treasure.”

  “Don’t do it, Amy! Brier called from the other side of the cave. “That treasure is ours. Ours to find, and keep.”

  “No, it’s not yours!” Locksley thundered. “I am outlaw Leatherspur’s great, great, great, descendent, so I ought to be entitled to his treasure. Don’t you think?”

  “Okay,” Amy said. “I’ll help you find it. Just promise me that once you find it, you’ll let us go.”

  Locksley nodded. “Deal. Just close your eyes and tell us where it’s at.”

  Amy closed her eyes and breathed deeply. “Lost Leatherspur’s treasure.”

  Images of a No-Trespassing sign lit up by lightning and shapes too dark for her to see or comprehend, filled her mind. “It’s near an old No-Trespassing sign,” she said.

  “And?” Locksley wondered.

  “Take me to the sign, and I’ll be able to see where else we need to go, more clearly.”

  “Okay,” Locksley said. “There’s just about a hundred or so, No-Trespassing signs in this town. Tristan, grab the girl. And I’ll get the other two. We don’t want her pulling any funny business. Got that? Try to escape or lead us on a wild goose chase, and you watch your friends die, one by one.”

  Amy nodded. “I understand. I won’t run off or lead you on a wild goose chase. The treasure doesn’t matter to me anyway.”

  “Fine, fine,” Locksley said, leading Flotsam and Brier along. “Then there’s nothing to be afraid of, is there?”

  ****

  A couple hours later, Amy held a lantern up to a weathered No-Trespassing sign hemmed on all sides by barbed wire fence.

  “Is it the right one?” Locksley wondered. “Tell me that it is. I’ve taken you to every one I know of. This one has to be it.”

  Amy closed her eyes and ran her fingers over the sign. Her hand tingled with warmth. “Yes,” she breathed, “we’re getting warmer. It’s the right one. ”

  “Where to next?” Locksley gazed at the dark sky. “Hurry up. The storm’s getting worse. And I’m not to keen on lightning.”

  “Okay,” Amy said, closing her eyes. “It’s…” She paused as distorted images filled her mind. “It’s somewhere near a burnt-out church house on a cliff. There’s also a pond.”

  “Ah,” Locksley murmured. “Ole’ devil’s church. Makes sense. The building got struck by lightning, probably the same day ole' Leatherspur did.”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  The Grave

  Sandwiched between Mr. Locksley, Tristan, Brier, and Flotsam, Amy stared apprehensively out the truck window. The truck’s engine strained with loud complaint, as it climbed the rough mountain, battling the muddy roads.

  When they reached the top, the truck’s light illuminated the formidable looking ruins of church house. To the side of the church was a small murky pond that had overflowed because of the rain that had flooded the nearby graveyard, making it look forlorn and dreary.

  “This is it,” Locksley said, stopping the truck. He stepped out, pulling Flotsam, and Brier along with him. “Where to next?”

  Tristan grabbed Amy by the wrist, and yanked her out of the truck. “You heard him,” he growled. “Where to next?”

  Amy pulled her arm back and glared at Tristan. It felt as though they were parked right on top of the highest mountain in the world. Below them she could see Crab Apple’s town lights shine like small specks of glitter in a glass ball. “I need to be in the church to be able to see clearly,” She murmured.

  “Fine,” Locksley grunted, holding the lantern aloft. “Take her to the church, Tristan, quickly.”

  Tristan grumbled, and led Amy inside the old church. Amy glanced around her at the scorched walls, and shivered. The old wooden beams creaked as the wind blew through them and caused the whole frame to tremble and quake. The walls looked as if one more gust of wind might topple the whole thing on top of them.

  “Hurry,” Tristan said, glancing around nervously.

  Amy closed her eyes and placed her hand on the wall. An image of an old forgotten grave, located on a steep incline just behind the church house, filled her mind.

  “We need to find a grave,” she said, moving her hand from the wall. The sec
ond she did that, the whole building shook as a gust of wind hammered the building mercilessly.

  “Locksley, she says we need to find a grave,” Tristan said, pulling Amy out of the church.

  “A grave?” Locksley asked. “But there are hundreds of them, all ruminating in pond water.” Locksley frowned and took Amy before the host of waterlogged graves. “See those? Well, those are all the graves. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to dig up every single one of them. Don’t you know which grave it is?”

  Amy shook her head. “No…I…I don’t.”

  “How about this one?” Locksley asked, yanking her through the water, to an old broken headstone.

  Amy shook her head. “No. It’s not this one.”

  “Then which worm-dried-sour-bleached-feather-cheese-noodle one is it?”

  Amy stood in the middle of the waterlogged cemetery, looking round at the misty graves, with tired eyes. “It’s higher up,” she said, finally. “Off by itself.”

  “Higher up?” Locksley asked. “I don’t think we can get higher up.”

  “There are steps…”

  “Steps?” Locksley’s eyes lit up. “Oh, steps. I know of some steps.” He yanked her along up a steep incline, past the cemetery, where stone steps were carved into the side of the mountain, leading upward. They followed them, with Tristan carefully guarding Brier and Flotsam. When they reached the top they found themselves on a flat landing, with short, brick walls hemming them in. In the center of the clearing was a great, dark headstone that looked old and formidable, as if it was an eye that had witnessed centuries of evil.

  Amy bent down, and traced the words carved into the giant headstone. She read aloud:

  RIP

  Crab Apple Joe

  Founder of our town.

  Beloved by all, and hated by none.

  No one knows the day he was born.

  And nobody really knows when he

  finally died. We just know that he

  up and left, and we don’t want his

  memory to die. May he live on

  wherever he has gone.

  “This it?” Locksley asked, drumming his fingers on the headstone.

  Amy smiled, and closed her eyes. A pleasant warmth tingled up her entire hand and flowed into her body.

  “Yes,” she said, standing up. “This is the place.”

  “Dig, then,” Locksley said, handing Amy and Brier a shovel. “Time’s a wasting.”

  Amy glared at him, took the shovel, and started digging.

  They dug for a long time. The hole got deeper, while Tristan, Locksley, and Flotsam watched from above.

  Finally, they hit something hard.

  “The coffin,” Brier breathed. “Amy, do you think there’s a body in it?”

  Amy shook her head. “No. I know there isn’t.”

  “But what if there is?” Brier said, shoveling dirt. “The headstone seems cryptic. Like they didn’t know if he had died or not. What if we’re digging up the founder of Crab Apple? It’s not only gross; it’s sick, and wrong. I’m sure there’s a curse for doing something like this.”

  “Well,” Amy said, “I’m already cursed, anyway. “So I guess one more curse won’t hurt.”

  “Found it yet?” Locksley asked, holding the lantern out over the grave.

  Amy nodded. “Yeah, the coffin is right under us.”

  Locksley laughed. “Good, good! Here’s a hammer. Quickly. Pry it open.”

  “You pry it open,” Brier shot back. “I don’t want to open any dead person’s coffin.”

  “Oh, you will,” Locksley thundered. “Or you’ll be prying the lid on your own coffin, if you don’t hurry.”

  Brier took the hammer and knelt over the casket. “Fine, we’ll pry it open.” He pried up the nails, one by one, until there was nothing left to do but open the lid.

  “Open the dang thing!” Locksley commanded.

  “Don’t worry, Brier,” Amy said, grasping the lid. “I’ll open it. You don’t have to look if you don’t want to.”

  Brier grimaced. “It’s okay. I’ll do it. It’s not like I haven’t seen a dead body before.” He took the lid, and they both opened it together.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Dead Man’s Treasure

  “Oh, gross!” Brier cried, as they lifted the lid. “Stinks. Yuck. Get me out of here. There’s somebody dead in here for sure.”

  “Is it the treasure?” Locksley asked, gazing over the edge, expectantly.

  “Here,” Amy said, “give me the lantern.”

  Locksley handed her the lantern. She held it over the open casket. Under the light, the casket lit up with sparkling gold coins, emeralds, rubies, bricks of gold, silver, and precious metals.

  “It’s the treasure,” Brier gasped, his eyes filling with wonder.

  “I told you there wasn’t a dead person in there,” Amy said, a look of triumph in her eyes.

  “We’re rich!” Locksley shouted, tossing Amy and Brier two burlap sacks. “Here, fill them up, and hand them to me.”

  Amy and Brier filled the sacks with treasure, and then struggled to hoist them to Locksley, but they were too heavy. “Give em here!” Locksley cried, leaning over. “Tristan, hold my feet, while I grab the bags.”

  Tristan grabbed hold of Locksley’s feet, as Locksley reached out and caught hold of both bags of treasure.

  “Cow-spotted-mushroom-windmills,” Locksley grunted, “it’s heavy as a thousand pickled snakes filled with stinkbugs that have been eating gold dust, and train iron juice. Pull me up, Tristan. Quickly now.”

  “I can’t,” Tristan cried. “You’re too heavy!”

  “What? You can’t pull me up? My great Aunt Weasel was ten times smaller than you, and she could pull a wagon loaded with slabs of marble. Now dig your heels in and pull me up.”

  “I’m pulling,” Tristan yelled. His muscles quivered, and he broke out into a sweat.

  “Pull harder!”

  “You’re going to have to drop one of the bags.”

  “Fine!” Locksley roared, dropping one. “I dropped it. Now pull me up.”

  Tristan let out a loud grunt, and pulled, finally dragging Locksley back up.

  Locksley ran his hands through the bag full of treasure, his eyes lighting up with greed as the coins slid through his fingers. “Good boy, Tristan. Good boy.”

  “Anyone going to give us a hand up?” Brier wondered.

  Locksley looked up from the bag of treasure, and nodded. “Yeah. Tristan, go give em a hand.”

  Tristan glared daggers at Locksley, and reached over the edge of the grave. Just as his hand caught hold of Brier’s, Locksley shoved Tristan into the hole.

  Tristan sat up and yelled. “Hey, Locksley, what did you do that for?”

  Locksley peered over the edge and smiled. “Ah, the moment of truth hurts doesn’t it?”

  Tristan shook his head. “Moment of truth? I don’t understand.”

  “I knew you wouldn’t,” Locksley went on, “and that’s the sad part. But you see, Tristan. I can’t let you go on as you have. You stole from me. Darn near cost me everything. I don’t want to risk you doing that to me again. I figured I might as well leave you here to make sure the rest of this treasure don’t walk off. Other than that, you’re really no use to me anymore.”

  “But you said we were partners. Family.”

  Locksley shrugged. “Yeah. I did say that, didn’t I? And we are a family, hypothetically speaking---especially if you classify the woman we met today as part of your family. According to her, it’s okay to abandon your children, steal from them, use them, beat them from time to time, maybe feed em once a week, run em over with a car, and finally, when the time is right, just walk away from them, and pretend that you never knew them.”

  Tristan’s clenched his jaw in anger. “Locksley, you don’t mean that. Help me up, you weasel or I swear that I’ll get you for this. We had a deal.”

  A flash of lightning lit up Locksley’s twisted face. A de
afening crash of thunder followed. The rumble echoed through the mountains, like the voice of some disturbed Titan.

  Locksley nodded. “I know. We had a deal. It was a good deal. You helped me get the girl. Which I will always be indebted to you for. But as it is. I don’t need you anymore, Tristan.”

  “What do you mean? You’ll always need me.”

  “Nope. Like your mother said. You’re a loser, Tristan. I don’t need losers. I need finders, like your sister. Just think, with her I can become the greatest outlaw this world has ever known. I will know every secret this town holds. I will know how to open every door. Find any key, rob any bank. Break into any house. Find every treasure. No, Tristan, your time is up. Come morning, I’m taking you to the cops.”

  “Go to blazes, Locksley!” Tristan shouted. “You know if you take me to the cops, I’ll rat you out. And don’t think I won’t do it, after all you’ve done.”

  Locksley laughed. “Ah, but what you don’t see is that even if you try to rat me out, they won’t believe you. I’ve paid every one of those skunks off. And I’ll pay em double to look the other way when I bring you in.”

  Tristan’s voice grew solemn. “What about Brier, and Amy? The deer?”

  “What about them?” Oh, I’ll let Brier go, soon enough. Nobody will believe him, anyway. But Amy, I’ll keep. Use the deer as collateral.”

  “What? You can’t keep her.”

  “Am I sensing a little jealousy? Tristan, you can’t help that you’re a loser and your sister is a finder. Deal with it.”

  “You’re the loser, Locksley. You’ve always been. Otherwise you wouldn’t have to rely on others to get what you want. Don’t you understand that people will come looking for her, once they find out she’s missing?”

  Locksley smiled faintly. “Nobody wants her. She’s got no one. No family. People will just think she has run away.”

  “What about me?” Tristan asked. “I’m her family.”

  “Yeah? Well, Tristan, you should have thought of that a long time ago.” He laughed, and moved away from the edge of the grave, cackling loudly.