OBIE
Episode twenty-four
A FAMILIAR SCENE
Lidge and I scrutinize this map like we’ve been around the world and know what’s what! Our eyes are big as saucers; our hands begin to sweat, and we wonder if this kid knows what he’s got. “What would ya take for this ol’ map?” Lidge queried. The kid spoke up and we couldn’t believe our ears. “I’ve waited a goodly time,” he says “for a couple good men like thee, who I could trust to help me find this loot. I think the world of you two lads. I’d trust thee with my life, so we’ll split it even Stephen. What do ya say?” Man, Oh man! We couldn’t believe our luck. “Fair enough,” I fired back with my molars catching sunlight, “When do we start?”
Our bosom buddy here helps us up and assists us to the door. By now it’s almost dark, “I’ll get a lantern.” he says, “You boys wait here.” Our buddy’s absent for quite a spell, but we don’t give that much thought. Our minds have been clouded by the talk of treasure and a couple of quarts of the best rum punch on the coast. Twenty minutes later he’s back. He’s carrying a lantern, and he steadies us as we stagger down the beach. The darkness has fallen for real now, and the lantern light casts distorted shadows as we’re lead like little lambs off through the trees. The sand fills our shoes; sand fleas crawl up our bare legs, and we trip and stumble over fallen logs. Finally, after about fifteen minutes of this foolishness, Lidge has the presence of mind to call a halt. “Avast there, mate!” he chokes out breathlessly, “Hold up there. You’re not even reading the confounded map. We’re just gallivanting through the jungle like nincompoops! Where are we going, and how long is this likely to take?”
Lidge’s head is beginning to clear some now, and he’s starting to have some serious doubts about this enterprise. The kid just smiles reassuringly and says, “Easy there, mate, we’re almost there! We can’t go digging for treasure without some shovels and picks. There are tools in this old barn right up ahead.” Sure enough, in a couple of minutes the little skiff of lantern light shines on the ramshackle door of an old, deserted barn.
The kid entered first, stepped back to the rear by an indistinguishable pile of debris, and then turned and motioned for us to step on in. The old stable had evidently been a milking barn back in its glory days. The floor was dirt and it stank of decaying manure. The musty smell of abandoned buildings hung heavy in the air, and the stench of decay was enough to make you choke. I was temporarily blinded by cobwebs, and as I fought to get them loose, I stepped to one side and Lidge stepped in behind. I turned to see where the kid had gone, and something went kerwhack! Then the lights went out and the treasure hunt was done!
The next thing I knew the cool, wet morning air rushed back into my lungs, the fowl taste of barnyard dirt filled my mouth, and a familiar voice inquired, “Obadiah, is that you?” I checked my belt, and my leather pouch was gone. Well, I don’t know about you, but this whole lamentable scene seems mighty familiar to me! Some of these days I’ll learn to use what’s left of my poor old noggin for something more than breaking the fall of milking stools! I had no idea what time it was, but daylight was pouring through the cracks of that old shake roof. I don’t know whether to credit the stool, or to credit that darn rum punch, but we’d evidently been unconscious all night long. The top of Lidge’s head was wet; he was losing a little blood, but both of us groaned and staggered to our feet. My head ached like it was fit to bust, and I’m sure Lidge felt the same, then all at once we both gasped and moaned, “The boat!”
To be continued?
By Shannon Thomas Casebeer
Copyright © FEBRUARY 14th, 2009
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