The Treasure Map
Contents
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One - A Time and a Place
Chapter Two - The Vespasian
Chapter Three - A Drop of Blood
Chapter Four - Beyond Measure
Chapter Five - A Lot to Learn
Chapter Six - An Itch He Couldn't Scratch
Chapter Seven - A Clever Trick
Chapter Eight - No Other Choice
Chapter Nine - All That Fun Stuff
Chapter Ten - The Great Escape
Chapter Eleven - Disappeared
Chapter Twelve - The Plan
Chapter Thirteen - Home
Chapter Fourteen - A Technical Malfunction
Chapter Fifteen - Christmas
Copyright © 2019 Tyler Scott Hess
All rights reserved.
To the future.
CHAPTER ONE
A Time and a Place
IT WAS THE first day of Christmas vacation, and just like any other ten-year-old boy, Jack Monroe awoke with an extra hop in his step knowing he wouldn’t be going to school for the next three weeks.
The air, though frosted outside, smelled like freedom to Jack that morning. Furthermore, the forecast on the radio promised there would be an excellent chance for snow to finally stick on the ground, which would make the perfect start to his holidays.
Jack’s best friends, the Santos brothers, were twin boys who lived a mere three blocks down the street. They had promised him they had plenty of extra sleds for him to choose from if he came over to play in the morning, given that the snow did indeed stick as they had all hoped.
Jack could hardly contain himself from the moment he hopped out of his bed, which he had so snugly slept in through what had been the coldest night of the season. He had spent most of his slumber in and out of dream cycles, a series of fanciful visions featuring the building of intricately clever snowmen, sledding with precision down the slopes with the Santos brothers, and hitting his classmate Susie Jefferson in the head with a snowball the size of a grapefruit. His fantastical visions would end with a return home where he would enjoy a simple serving of his favorite drink, a cup of caramel-coated hot cocoa in his favorite red and green Christmas mug, as he nestled himself by the fireplace.
But first, Jack had to get himself dressed if he wanted any of those dreams to come true on that day. After all, a boy of his age wouldn’t want his friends, or worse yet - a girl like Susie Jefferson, to see him in his pajamas. Unlike a typical school day, on this particular morning, Jack desperately dressed with such great fury that he wasn’t entirely sure how many of his garments were put on correctly. He was almost certain that his shirt was on backward, as it didn’t feel quite right, but he had already layered himself with a thick gray hoodie, as well as a puffy blue jacket to top it all off, and there would be no going back after all that fuss.
Jack quickly tossed an orange and brown knitted cap over his scraggly black hair, slid some blue jeans over his scrawny legs, and walked out of the room which he had shared for far too long with his four-year-old brother, Calvin. His pudgy sibling with short, spiky brown hair and freckles, which recently began popping up on his cheeks, had been sitting cross-legged and humming quietly without a care in the world. He had already been up and entertaining himself for over an hour, fervently playing with a set of die-cast cars in the corner opposite of Jack’s bed.
Jack had always wanted a little brother, at least as long as he could remember such things, and had begged his parents to get him one for years. Despite his repeated requests, they had somehow managed to only give him two sisters before Calvin finally arrived. Samantha, the second eldest of four siblings, was about to turn eight, and Sadie had just turned six the day after Halloween. When Jack finally got his wish granted, he was blindsided by the realization that he would suddenly have to share his room with the little brat, as he quickly began to call him.
“See you later, squirt,” Jack told his youngest sibling as he slid out of the room, jaunted down the stairs, and made his way to the front door before Calvin could plead to go with him. No way on earth would his mother have let him take the four-year-old with him three entire blocks down the road, but he couldn’t take the chance that she would make him stay around to look after him.
“I’m going over to the Santos’ house,” Jack explained to his mother as he tossed his snow boots on over his mismatched red and gray socks.
“You haven’t eaten breakfast yet,” Eira Monroe reminded him.
“It’s snowing outside right now,” Jack pointed out to her breathlessly, as if she hadn’t purposely opened the drapes to enjoy the view herself as she took a break from her spreadsheets to enjoy a sip of coffee. “And it’s not only sticking, it’s piling up!”
“At least take a granola bar on the way out,” Jack’s mother pleaded with him. “And be back in time for lunch. Your dad said he wanted to show you something when you get back.”
Jack rolled his eyes, but swiped a bar from the kitchen, scurried out the front door, and closed it quickly as he began to hear the faintest words beckoning, “Wait for me!”
He knew what would become of the matter if he didn’t get away immediately. Acting just as quickly as his feet could take him, Jack decided to take the long way to the home of Matias and Lucas Santos, darting across Holly Street, swerving around El Camino, and galloping down a hill that led straight to their backyard.
“This is perfect,” Jack yelled out to his pals as he approached them.
“I know!” Lucas said, his brother nodding in agreement. “The hill ain’t much to look at in the summer, but the first thing we told our mama when we moved here last summer was that it would be perfect for sledding whenever it snows.”
“What sleds do you have?” Jack asked the brothers as he watched his breath float away through the nippy air.
“Take your pick,” Lucas suggested, his open hand offering dibs to their guest.
Matias, the quieter Santos brother, ushered Jack to the side of the house, where they had carefully laid out a plethora of options.
“We’ve got your traditional sleds, the ones you see in the comics, if that’s what you like,” Lucas continued. “And then there are the saucers, which might be the fastest, but you might lose control if you’re not careful. I think I’ll go with the big black inner tube up there against the wall, but on a nice hill like ours, I don’t see how you could go wrong with any of these.”
“As long as Susie Jefferson doesn’t show up to ruin the fun,” Jack muttered.
“I don’t know why you have such a beef with her,” Lucas said, shrugging his shoulders. Matias shook his head without any more of a guess than his brother.
“She ratted me out to Mrs. York!” Jack scoffed, insulted that they would forget such a betrayal.
“That was the first grade,” Lucas reminded him. “You really gotta learn to let those things go. Besides, I overheard her telling Lilly that she was going up to the mountains with her family for Christmas.”
“Well, she’s lucky then,” Jack said as he placed a red saucer with a yellow rim under his left arm. “If I saw her coming this way today, I was going to pelt her with as many snowballs as I could make.”
The boys all grimaced as they lugged their sleds up the hill for the first time, thinking back to the last snow when Susie had gotten the better of the boys, tricking them into hitting each other with snowballs while she ducked for cover.
The morning wasted away as they stomped up and slid down the same hill more times than they could count, only crashing into each other a handful of times, which led to no more than three or four injuries. This would not need to be addressed by their mothers until they had all finished for the day.
Th
e sun stood high in the sky, partly veiled by a light layer of clouds, and they knew the snow wouldn’t last until the following morning. Still, Jack remembered he would be expected back for lunch and had to be on his way.
“You want something to eat before you go?” Lucas asked as he thought about what his mother might be cooking up for them. “There’s always plenty around here.”
“Sorry guys,” Jack said, shaking his head. “My mom mentioned something about my dad wanting me back home for lunch. Has something to show me I guess. I bet it’s lame, whatever it is, but I’ll get in big trouble if I don’t hurry back. This is not the time of year to risk it.”
Jack exchanged secret handshakes with his buddies - which I am not at liberty to divulge - and trudged his way back home, taking the more direct route this time, straight up North Avenue.
“Merry Christmas!” Jack heard a voice shouting from across the way. He was startled, and at first instinct, he began to duck, but he found no place for cover. He quickly realized his mistake.
“What do you want, Susie?” Jack asked, hardly able to hide his derision as he turned around and saw his classmate and neighbor helping her parents pack up their full-size pickup truck for a long drive up to their holiday cabin.
“I said Merry Christmas, weirdo.” Susie brushed her hair out of her face and gave him a look that Jack didn’t know how to interpret.
“Oh,” Jack replied sheepishly, not knowing how red his cheeks were getting, though if he had seen a mirror he would have blamed it on the cold. “Fine then. Merry Christmas. Happy New Year and all that.”
Susie smiled. Jack turned away and scowled. The only thing worse than when she was mean to him was when she was kind. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do with such behavior. For a moment, he thought about picking up a snowball and pelting her once really quick, but when he turned his head back he could see her still smiling.
“Bah!” Jack muttered to himself as he walked back inside his house. He didn’t see his family anywhere, so he quickly shook off his heavy winter coat, slid off his boots, and tossed his gloves to the side, leaving everything scattered about the entryway.
“Mom!” he yelled, but he received no reply. “That’s weird. I thought she’d have made lunch for me by now. Mom! I’m home!”
Jack scurried upstairs to see if anyone was up there, but the rooms appeared to be empty. He ran back downstairs to look outside, but the back yard was unoccupied as well. That’s when he remembered why he was supposed to be home so soon.
“Dad?” Jack inquired as he slowly opened the door to the garage. He had learned over the years not to sneak up on his father when entering his woodshop. “Where is everyone?”
“Oh, there you are!” answered Joshua Monroe. “Mom took your brother and sisters to the store to pick up some groceries. She left a pot of chicken noodle soup simmering on the stove for you to scoop out a bowl for yourself. But that can wait a minute. I want to show you something first.”
“What is it?” Jack asked as his father began to pull out a set of plywood cutouts facing the opposite direction from the boy. “I can’t see the front.”
“I realize this should have been up earlier in the month, but I’ve been so busy working, I didn’t have time to complete it until now,” his father told him as they worked together to turn it around.
“Is…is that a full Christmas train?” Jack asked as the engine appeared, fully painted and lit up with carefully placed Christmas lights.
“For our front yard!” his father grunted as they whipped it around to view the rest of the set. “I’ve wanted to work on something like this since before you were born, but every time I turned around we were having another kid and changing diapers took up all my free time. But now you’re all old enough that I don’t have to watch your every step whenever I’m home.”
“Is it ready to go outside?” Jack asked as he warmed his hands by the small portable heater his father had set up next to his workbench.
“Think you can lift the caboose?” his father asked, gesturing toward the end of the train.
“I’ve got it!” Jack replied, grimacing as the heavier than expected decoration leaned up against his face. “I think I’ve got it,” he tried to assure himself as they tried to avoid smacking the garage door hanging above their heads.
“Careful now,” his father told him as they sidestepped the train out onto the front yard. They set it down with only a little discomfort before Jack ran toward the garage to plug in the lights.
“Is it working?” Jack soon shouted as he traipsed back to the front of the yard.
“Well…” his father said, scratching his head. “Hard to tell in the daylight, isn’t it? The lights are on, to be sure, but it’s not much to look at just yet. Guess we should get some of that soup and wait until the sun goes down in a few hours.”
“Looks nice, Mr. Monroe!” they could hear as a car rolled slowly by. “Merry Christmas, Jack!” said the voice.
“Good to see you getting along with Susie Jefferson again,” his father said with a smirk. “Wasn’t sure how long you two were going to go at it.”
“I’m not. Uh, we’re not. I mean we didn’t…” Jack trailed off. “Whatever, dad. I don’t know what her deal is. Girls are…whatever, I’m hungry.”
Jack went back inside, scooped himself a bowl of chicken noodle soup, scraped together two peanut butter sandwiches on sourdough bread, and warmed himself by the fire as his father cleaned up his workspace for the day. He turned on the television, and to no surprise, his mother had made sure that holiday movies were playing on a loop all day, and would likely continue to do so until Christmas Day arrived.
“Maybe I should have had a bigger breakfast,” Jack told himself as he realized how hungry his morning had made him. The bowl of soup and two sandwiches were quickly consumed, yet he was no less hungry than he had been when he began his meal.
Jack quickly stood up and made his way back to the kitchen to see what else he could eat, hoping something wouldn’t take much effort to prepare, when his perked up at the sound of several car doors shutting in a row and his father’s voice offering a loud greeting. “Mom must be home. Maybe she can make me something good.”
Jack abandoned his intentions to make himself something to eat, scooted back into the living room, and covered himself with as many blankets as he could find. He sat comfortably and waited for his family to come back inside the house while he watched the television, the flames from the fire helping to warm him up from the long morning of sledding with the Santos brothers.
Jack’s brother and sisters made their way into the living room, each giving him a worrisome look as they passed, and headed upstairs without a word. “What’s their problem?” he muttered as he watched the Grinch explain something about a light not working properly.
“Jack,” his mother addressed him with a sigh as she entered the front door.
“Hey mom,” Jack said without looking back at her. “Will you make me some…”
“Jack!” she cut him off with a sharper tone before calming herself quickly. “We…need to talk.”
Although he was only in the fourth grade, Jack still knew that nothing good has ever happened in the moments after such a phrase as the one he had just heard. He sighed, slunk his shoulders, and pushed himself off the ground.
“This is not acceptable,” she told Jack as she handed him a letter from the school district. He knew what was inside before he opened the envelope, but went through the motions of picking out his report card from the first term of the school year.
Jack didn’t want to look. He knew it wouldn’t be pretty, but he had hoped against hope that the proof wouldn’t have reached his mother so soon. His fingers slipped in and out of the envelope as he mulled over a list of excuses. It wasn’t his fault. The teachers aren’t fair. The other kids are always distracting him. School is boring. He knew none of those had ever worked.
“Open it,” his mother ordered. “And explain yourself.”
Jack sighed and gave up the idea that a filibuster might save him from this mess. His eyes looked up and down the chart and he hung his head. “I tried…” he started to say, but he knew that was far from the truth.
“If you had tried, you would be doing better than that,” she said, more disappointed than angry. “You’re a very smart boy, and so creative, but sometimes…”
“I’m sorry, mama, I just get so…” Jack mumbled, knowing he didn’t have an excuse that he could back up.
“I know you are,” she said. “But sometimes sorry doesn’t cut it.”
“But mom…”
“Joshua?”
“Yep,” Jack’s father said as he entered the living room where the two had been standing. He looked at his wife and shook his head. “Come with me, son,” he instructed Jack, hardly able to look him in the eyes.
Jack slunk his shoulders as far down as they could go while standing and followed his father upstairs. “What are you going to do?” he asked, knowing that he could be spending his entire Christmas vacation on lockdown.
“I’m not going to do anything,” his father grumbled.
“Huh?” Jack asked, but an answer wasn’t quickly offered. What did he mean he wasn’t going to do anything? That couldn’t possibly be true. He had never gone unpunished for a poor report card. His father’s grave response and the silence that followed felt so different than the excitement they had just shared over the Christmas train they had put up in the front yard.
The two of them went upstairs, around the corner, and past the bedrooms, then stopped at the end of the hallway.
“Wha…what are we doing here?” Jack asked as his father looked back at him with a furrowed brow.
Without a word, his father lifted his right arm to the ceiling and pulled down a ladder that would lead them to an attic. “Get up there,” he said.
“The attic?” Jack asked.
“I said get up there,” his father responded gruffly. “I’m not going to tell you again.”
Jack scampered up the steps, not sure what his father had intended for him, nor where to place his feet once he got there. The attic was dark and wasn’t a place in the house that he had ever given much thought to in his short life. “I can’t see,” he said in a hushed voice, not sure if what he might say could get him in further trouble.