The Dumnonian Hoard: Rosenberg Twins Adventure #1

  * * *

  “So what do you want to do?”

  We’re done our chores and Josh and I are sitting side by side on the dusty front step staring out at an empty driveway with no prospect of fun anywhere on the horizon.

  “I don’t know,” I mutter.

  “I don’t understand why he couldn’t take us today,” says Josh quietly.

  He sounds as disappointed as I am.

  “Well, it’s Uncle Marty, isn’t it. He’s just dumb sometimes. What can you expect?”

  Josh makes a sound. “I expect to go to the dig site and help look for the Dumnonian Hoard.”

  “You know full well Uncle Marty doesn’t trust us to help with that. He thinks we’re just dumb kids.”

  “Well we’re not.”

  I nod resolutely. “I know.”

  We’re both silent for awhile, neither one of us speaking.

  “You know what would be cool?”

  Josh looks at me. “What?”

  “If we could find the Dumnonian Hoard.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Josh looks as confused as always.

  “I mean, what if we could find the Dumnonian Hoard first. What if we go looking for it and find it?”

  Josh shakes his head. “How? We don’t have any equipment. We don’t even have a car. How’re we supposed to go looking for a treasure without a metal detector or even a shovel?”

  “I’m sure the Duguay’s have a shovel.”

  Josh shrugs. “Let’s go and see if we can find one.”

  Never in my life did I think I’d spend an hour searching for a shovel, but low and behold, here I am at fifteen doing just that.

  “Nope.”

  “How about in there?”

  Josh pulls open the drawer to the tallest of the wooden shelves in the Duguay’s garage, teetering dangerously and threatening to come loose and fall right out. “Nope.”

  “Damn it!”

  “We’ll just have to use the trowel,” says Josh, waving the green and white trowel we’d found on top of the work bench in the corner of the Duguay’s garage.

  “Alright...I don’t know how much digging we’re going to be able to do with that...”

  “We’ll take turns,” he says, a little too cheerfully for my liking.

  “You can take turns. I’d rather dig with my damn hands if I have to use something the small.”

  Josh looks at me, his expression mischievous. “You know there’s worms in this soil, right?”

  I shudder at the thought of the long, pink, gesticulating creatures rubbing against my hands and fingers. “I guess I’ll use the trowel.”