Lola Benko, Treasure Hunter

by Beth McMullen

  “Don’t try anything funny,” she says. Believe me, there is nothing funny about this situation. In fact, my mouth is dry and I keep gagging on my tongue. My stomach flips over on itself, like a ballet dancer on a sheet of ice. I just want to get my father and be done.

  We bide our time until the end of the school day, after which we make a mad dash directly to Bay Area Mini Storage. Unfortunately, the mini storage has had a makeover, most likely in response to our last visit. New security cameras are positioned along the perimeter every ten feet. An extra layer of razor wire sits atop the fence, and the hole we cut the last time has been mended.

  Which is a problem. I don’t even have my wire cutters, as breaking and entering wasn’t originally on today’s schedule. Inside the security-guard shed, there are shadows, thrown off by the wide-awake security guard. We stand back and silently appraise the situation. The stone is so close. I can see the backside of unit seventeen from here. I give the fence a kick. It doesn’t move.

  “Any ideas?” Jin asks. Silence. We stare at the fence some more, waiting for a solution to present itself. It does not. Hannah is unusually quiet. Are we going to need four brains to figure this out?

  “What if we launch you over the fence?” Jin suggests finally.

  “Like a missile?” I ask.

  “Yeah.”

  “Seriously?”

  “You’d have to be careful not to get shredded to ribbons by the razor wire, but otherwise it might work.”

  Hannah giggles. I don’t think I’ve ever heard her laugh before. “Lola the missile,” she says. “I like it. In fact, I like all of this. I had no idea it would be so fun.”

  Jin and I exchange a glance. Fun is a pool party on a hot day with unlimited ice cream and soda. Being impaled on a razor wire–topped fence is not. But maybe if you never had any fun, you might be confused about the difference. Hannah’s eyes sparkle with excitement.

  “I am no missile,” I say.

  “We could pile up all our textbooks and climb over.” Jin looks thoughtful. “Maybe throw a sweater over the sharp stuff at the top. No? Okay. Let me think. Do we have a pair of scissors? A pogo stick? A trampoline?”

  “A blowtorch?” Hannah suggests. “Or a drone? A ladder?”

  “Don’t you think if we had a ladder we’d have used it already?” I ask dryly. “These are not good ideas.”

  Jin folds his arms defensively against his chest. “Do you have a better one?”

  “Walking up to the security guard and asking politely to enter is a better idea than turning me into a human missile.”

  Jin lights up. “That’s it! It’s so simple! We just walk right in.”

  “I’m going to need details,” I say impatiently. We are so close to the stone. It’s right over this fence. It’s infuriating not to be able to just march in there and get it. However, that is exactly what Jin wants us to do.

  “You say you’re Irma Benko,” Jin says. “Your aunt never leaves the house, so there is no way anyone down here has ever seen her. We fake him out.”

  “But he’s going to ask for identification,” I counter. “You can’t just let any old person into the place. That’s his entire job.”

  “You’ll just have to make something up,” Jin says, blowing off my concerns. “Say you use an age-defying cleanser made with panda tears. Or, I don’t know, you just have really good genes.”

  “It’s not the worst idea I’ve ever heard,” Hannah says. “But you’re going to really have to play the part to make it work. Are you up to that?”

  They must believe I am because before I know it, they shove me toward the guard’s shed. I’ve never even been in a school play! Oh boy. All I have to do is channel my inner Irma. Be Irma. Be Irma. Be Irma. Imagining Zeus on my shoulder, I slap on a big grin and rap lightly on the window where cars wanting access are meant to pull up and talk to the guard. From the shadows, the guard emerges and I’d say he looks pleased to see me except that would be a big fat lie.

  CHAPTER 24 EVEN THE TOUGHEST ROLL OVER FOR DORITOS.

  THE GUARD WEARS A WRINKLED uniform, with a smear of orange cheese-puff dust down the front. His frown indicates we have gotten between him and his snack and he is not happy. Sliding the window open, he grunts a greeting. Or I think it’s a greeting. Probably he is telling us to bug off.

  “Hello,” I say, swallowing hard. “My name is Irma Benko. I rent unit seventeen. I’m going in to see my locker.” I attempt to project confidence, as if I’m meant to be here, as if I have done this a thousand times.

  The guard gives me a once-over. “What did you say your name was?”

  “Irma Benko,” I repeat. He’s not buying it. The jig is up. We’re busted. No one will show up at the meeting with Lipstick and even more terrible things will happen to my father. A bead of sweat rolls from my eyebrow. But the guard just wants to get back to his cheese puffs. He grabs a clipboard and flips a few pages, murmuring Irma’s name so he doesn’t forget it.

  “Here we go,” he says finally. “Yeah. Number seventeen. Repossessed for lack of payment. Yesterday, in fact. Your stuff is gone.”

  “Excuse me?” Hannah asks.

  “No pay, no storage.”

  You have got to be kidding me. This cannot be happening. The stuff is gone?

  “You were warned,” the guard says bluntly. “There were letters and phone calls. After which we clear out the contents, sell it, and rent the unit to someone who actually pays. It’s in the contract you signed.”

  This news makes me dizzy. I might fall over. The guard slams his little window shut, dismissing us. The last expedition I went on with my father before he disappeared, we were searching for a priceless tiara that belonged to a Russian princess who had been murdered more than one hundred years ago. There were exactly no clues as to its whereabouts, but that didn’t stop Dad from visiting every living person who had a connection with the dead princess.

  “It doesn’t hurt to ask,” Dad said. He didn’t find the tiara. But that is not the point here. I bang hard on the small window with my fist. The guard returns. It’s possible he is less happy to see us this time. He licks his orange fingers and glares.

  “Can you tell me who bought the items from storage unit number seventeen?” I ask politely.

  “No,” he says. But before he can close the window, I block it with my cast and give him my best steely eyed glare. I tried it once on Irma and she wondered if I had sand stuck in my eye. The guard barely seems to register my glare at all. However, I’m not done.

  “I’ll give you a bag of Doritos if you answer my question,” I say. The guard pauses. I’ve got his attention.

  Jin elbows me in the ribs. “Ah, Lola? We don’t have any Doritos.”

  “Hannah does. Right, Hannah?” Her shock almost makes this all worthwhile. I hold out my hand. She rummages through her backpack, muttering about how I could possibly know she has Doritos. The guard watches, eyes sharp with suspicion, as the wheels turn in his head. His cheese puffs are probably gone. He can’t leave the booth until the end of his shift, which is possibly hours away.

  “Cool Ranch?” he asks.

  “Original,” I say. Hannah slaps a bag into my palm. I dangle it in front of the guard. He caves immediately. It’s like shooting fish in a barrel. But when he stretches out a hand toward the chips, I pull them out of reach.

  “Details first,” I demand. The guard, grumbling, trundles off to the computer glowing in the back of the shed. A moment later he returns with a slip of paper. I hand over the bag. He slams the window. Transaction complete.

  “Merlin’s Marvelous Collectibles,” I read. “Water Street. Oakland.”

  “Merlin?” Jin asks. “Isn’t he a wizard or something? A sorcerer and a magic rock. Doesn’t the world seem so much more interesting knowing all this? I mean, magic is real.”

  Hannah’s eyes have gone all sparkly again. “A wizard would be cool.”

  Great. This is just what we need. A wizard. “It’s just a name,” I say. “
There’s no such thing as magic.”

  “I’m going to mind-meld with the stone and play Fortnite forever,” Jin says dreamily.

  “There is no mind-melding,” I bark.

  “How do you know?” Hannah asks.

  “I already told you. There is no such thing as magic.” If there were, I would order up a flying taxi or a magic carpet or a pony or something because in the real world, the one without magic, we need to get to Merlin’s Marvelous Collectibles in Oakland right away.

  So how exactly do we do that?

  CHAPTER 25 MERLIN’S MARVELOUS COLLECTIBLES

  OAKLAND IS ACROSS THE SAN Francisco Bay from where we are and swimming is right out of the question. The water is freezing. There are sharks. And cargo ships the size of small islands. Instead, we catch a bus that drops us at the train, which takes us to Oakland, where we walk. It takes time and Jin and Hannah fill it by bickering about what they will do with magical stone powers once they get them.

  I pull up the collar of my horrible uniform shirt and try to hide or, at the very least, pretend I don’t know them. Ignoring my dysfunctional teammates, I think about how scared my father must be, kidnapped by a lunatic. Is he cold? Alone? Hungry? Does he think anyone is coming to help him? Since Star and Fish unexpectedly entered my life, I’ve not let myself go to this dark place, the one where I wonder how Dad is. It just makes me unravel. I’m much better off if I focus on the where of it and keep plowing forward.

  Swallowing a few times, I shake off the fear and think about what we have to do next. The fog settles in and the daylight recedes as we make our way down Water Street to Merlin’s Marvelous Collectibles. The property is adjacent to the Port of Oakland, one of the busiest ports in the United States. One of my favorite things to do in San Francisco is watch the massive cargo ships slip under the Bay Bridge into the port. Next to these huge vessels, the regular-size sailboats and ferryboats resemble corks bobbing in the water. Several giant container cranes loom large, like the AT-AT Walkers from Star Wars. I keep expecting them to break free from their foundations and destroy San Francisco across the bay.

  Merlin’s Marvelous Collectibles is a dilapidated warehouse, barely standing. A stiff breeze and the whole thing could end up in the ocean. The old warehouses to either side have been wiped clean, shiny new construction rising in their place. We take a moment to stare at the building. It’s hard to imagine anything marvelous stashed away in this dusty old place. More likely it overflows with piles of unloved, discarded junk. I deflate. How are we going to find one little stone in all this?

  An old man in raggedy, grease-stained overalls, using a cane for balance, comes out of the building. He wears a blue work shirt with the name “Merlin” embroidered over his chest pocket. Distracted and muttering to himself, he practically walks right into us.

  “Oh,” he says, surprised. “People. Buying? Selling? It’s almost closing time.”

  His bright green eyes sparkle like those of a much younger man, and his long beard is expertly braided through with gold ribbon. It’s a startling combination. But as Irma likes to say, we have one of everybody out here. I clear my throat. “Actually, we’re looking for something. It’s probably in the junk… ah… I mean stuff you just bought from Bay Area Mini Storage, that place down in the Marina?”

  Merlin snorts. “One person’s junk is another person’s treasure,” he says. My father would disagree. He believes treasure is only treasure because we all agree it has value. Junk, on the other hand, is just junk.

  “Can we buy stuff back?” Hannah asks, cutting to the chase.

  “Lost something important, did you?” Merlin gazes at us intently, and I get the distinct feeling he is taking our measure.

  “Sort of,” I say.

  “That’s how people usually end up at my door.” Merlin grins. His teeth are too big for his mouth and very white. “Something is lost. Or missing. Or just not right. And they think old Merlin can help.”

  “Can you?” Jin asks.

  Merlin pauses, studying Jin. Jin begins to squirm. “Sometimes,” Merlin says finally. “And other times it’s too late. More often than not, they want what they want but they don’t know why. Do you understand?” We glance at each other. Nope. Not at all. Merlin taps his watch. “It’s almost five o’clock. I guess that gives us a few minutes to sort you out. What do you seek, my fine young friends?” Using his cane for balance, he totters back toward the entrance to the building. We dutifully follow.

  Inside, the warehouse is enormous but weirdly empty. Where are all the marvelous collectibles? Damp and mold permeate the air. It makes me gag. Hannah crinkles up her nose. Jin covers his mouth with his sleeve.

  Merlin slips behind a makeshift desk, made from a plywood slab balanced on two sawhorses. “Been here forever,” he explains. “But just sold out. Everyone wants the land under my warehouse so they can build something new, like they are doing next door. It’s easy to be dazzled by fresh and shiny.” He tosses a handful of papers up in the air, where they drift around him like snow. “I’m headed to Florida, yes I am. Want an ocean I can swim in without freezing my butt off. Bay Area Mini Storage, you said?” Merlin digs through the piles of invoices, finally holding up a yellow sheet triumphantly. A little burst of adrenaline surges through me and I bounce on my toes.

  “Let’s see,” he mutters, scanning the document. “I bought one ton of material from them just the other day, probably my very last purchase, not that we are feeling nostalgic. Anyway, that means… yup… okay.”

  “What?” Hannah shouts, unable to contain herself a moment longer. We edge closer to Merlin. Come on! Tell us! Is the stone here?

  “This is how it works, kids,” Merlin says. “I buy junk, as you so kindly call it, by the pound and I sell it by the pound. If I buy it for less than I sell it for, I make some dough and keep the lights on. The buyers come from all over the world. They load the stuff on cargo ships and away it goes. The newest ship is called the Nebula, hailing from Brazil.” Merlin gives a low appreciative whistle. “She’s a real beauty, the Nebula, sleek and lean, how a ship should be. Anyhow, they load up the Nebula and off it all goes. I don’t know what they do with it once it leaves here, but at that point it is no longer my business, so there you go.”

  I narrow my gaze. “Are you saying our magic rock is headed to Brazil?” I have spun some awful scenarios since we started looking for the stone. In my mind, I’ve lost it any number of ways. But not once did it go to Brazil on a big boat. Jin lays a hand on my shoulder as if to keep me from rocketing through the roof, fueled by pure frustration.

  “Magic rock, you say?” Merlin’s bright eyes dance. “A little on the green side?”

  “It might be.”

  Merlin taps his nose with one of his long fingers, thinking. “I might have seen it, this rock of yours. In fact, I might have given it to Captain Silva of the Nebula. He seemed quite taken with it. Yes. I believe he called it beautiful. He said it called out to him, metaphorically speaking.”

  My heart leaps. All is not lost. “Captain Silva of the Nebula has our stone?” Merlin nods thoughtfully. “Yes. I am quite sure. It’s a special rock, is it?”

  “It called out to him?” Hannah has gone a shade pale. “Did you hear that, Lola?”

  I ignore her. “So all we do is find this Captain Silva and ask for it back. No big deal.”

  “Well, it’s a little more complicated than that, I’m afraid.” Merlin’s smile fades. “The Nebula sailed earlier today.”

  Okay. I take it back. All is actually lost. The stone is on its way to South America. Game over. Trying hard to hide my disappointment as it is not Merlin’s fault, I thank him for his time. As we are leaving, he pulls me aside, his expression concerned. “Lola. If you happen upon this stone you seek, remember to stay true to yourself. Do not let it sway you, no matter what it offers in return.”

  “Huh?” I never told him my name.

  “You heard me.” Marvelous Merlin points a long finger at me. “Don’t fo
rget. Go on now, missy. I have work to do. Good luck. See you later. Adios.”

  What was that all about? Whatever. I don’t have time to unravel it. We have a grave situation. Outside, Jin and Hannah sit on a couple of abandoned barrels. Jin’s face sags. Hannah sighs aggressively. Things did not go as expected and now we need an entirely new plan. But first, a few minutes of wallowing in our misery is certainly in order.

  “We tried.” Jin slumps on his barrel, about to slide off.

  “We failed,” Hannah says. “On the other hand, I think it’s clear that the stone is magic. Don’t you agree?”

  “No,” I say bluntly. “The captain was using a metaphor.”

  “Metaphor or not, now what?” Jin asks.

  “Maybe we substitute a fake stone for the real one,” Hannah suggests. “No one has ever seen the real stone, have they, other than Captain Silva and he’s way gone.”

  My old book of fairy tales showed Istenanya with a green sparkly stone. But that’s just one illustration. There are certainly no photographs of the stone as it is not supposed to exist. Using a fake stone means double-crossing the Shadow. That sounds risky. And possibly stupid.

  We sit with our new reality for a few moments, thinking about fake rocks, until Hannah jumps to her feet, upsetting her barrel. “You guys, look.”

  Out on the foggy bay, a massive freighter, heavy with cargo and riding low in the water, leaves port, gliding smoothly toward the Pacific Ocean and on to destinations unknown. “Wait a second.” Jin grabs my arm. Behind the moving freighter is another ship, now revealed, gleaming in the dim sunlight.

  The Nebula.

  CHAPTER 26 STARBOARD OR PORT? BEATS ME.

  THE NEBULA IS STILL IN harbor. It hasn’t sailed yet! We jump to our feet, overturning the barrels and sending them rolling toward the edge of the dock. “Our ship!” Hannah shouts.

  “Hang on, Nebula!” I yell. “We’re coming!”