by D. B. Magee
The boys hustled to get the shaky, squeaking table to the window before the noise downstairs died down.
“You big oaf!” Mr. Smith moaned. “Why don’t you watch where you’re going?”
Bubba didn’t respond. Something had caught his attention, and he now stood rigid and fixated on the ceiling.
“Are you listening to me, you buffoon?”
“Yeah, boss,” Bubba replied, but it was obvious his attention was elsewhere.
“Well, look at me!”
“Sorry, Boss. I thought I heard a mouse.”
“A mouse?” Mr. Smith barked sarcastically. “There are probably lots of mice in these old walls, you dunce. Now, quit loafing around, and let’s find those kids.”
Unknown to Mr. Smith or Bubba, just a few inches above their heads, Ryan and William were on to them. The boys finished positioning the table in front of the window, leaving just enough space to squeeze behind it, and moved out onto the gangway, where they slid the window down and closed the shutters.
“There, that should do it,” Ryan said. “Now, let’s get on back to the girls and fill them in on the situation.”
William followed Ryan across the walkway and up the ladder to the tree pruning platform. Once at the opening, however, Ryan let William descend first and followed, pausing momentarily to secure the hatch in place. As the bolt slid shut, a hidden sensor sent a signal to an unknown location.
“Sir, we just received a hatch lock engaged alarm at the Walborg property.” A young man in a plain black uniform sat at a bank of monitors, referring to a flashing indicator on one of his screens. He looked behind him to an older, distinguished-looking, gray-haired gentleman dressed in casual civvies.
The supervisor continued peering at the dossier in his hands. “Is there any threat noticed on camera?” he asked calmly.
The young man scanned the video feed coming into the monitor. “No, sir,” he reported.
Checking the time on his Rolex, the supervisor glanced at the monitor showing the Baobab tree. If the kids felt like they had to engage the lock, he thought, there must be a reason. “Ok, soldier,” he said aloud, “keep a watchful eye. This one’s personal.”
“Yes sir.”
“Man, I sure wish we had a phone down here,” William said upon rejoining the girls in Tree Root Cavern.
Lisa stood up from the settee, her face tight with concern. “Why? What’s going on?”
“Just some burglars,” Ryan said nonchalantly, as he moseyed in behind William. “We’ll be all right here until they leave.”
Stacy remained seated, her knuckles white under the strain of her tightly clasped hands. “What if they see the gangway and come out here?” Her voice cracked nervously.
“We blocked the window, so hopefully they won’t see it,” William replied.
“But if they do,” Ryan said, “they’ll just figure it leads to the tree-trimming platform, like we did. They have no reason to come out here,” he added in a reassuring tone.
Just then, Stacy had a thought. She stood up quickly. “Wait! We don’t need a phone. We can use the computer to call the police.” She rushed to the laptop and hurried to bring up a web browser. After a few seconds, she looked up with a strained look on her face. “I can’t get an internet connection.”
“What?” William exploded, taking the comment personally. He hurried over to the safe and re-examined the setup and configuration of the laptop. “There should be no reason . . .” he began, but remembering something, he stopped and stepped around behind the safe to where the box they’d carried down had gotten pushed. Peering into it, he saw two electronic devices. He slapped his forehead. “Shoot!” he cried. “I forgot to set up the repeaters.” Upset with himself, he leaned back against the wall and hung his head.
Ryan patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t sweat it, Willy. Like I said, those thugs will probably . . .”
Without warning, William instantly bolted upright. “I’ve got it!” he declared, pushing past Ryan and Stacy. Stripping the Frequency Glasses from the mounting bracket, he unplugged the cabling and dropped onto the settee, swapping out his glasses for the ones he just snagged. Taking a deep breath, he rotated the boom arm speakers down over his ears and leaned back. An abrupt vacuum effect overcame his soul, and in the next instant he found himself, once again, in astral form, standing next to his physical self. “I’m going to follow them from here,” he called out from behind the Frequency Glasses.
In a flash, he took the path of least resistance and zoomed up through the hollow tree trunk and out onto the tree-trimming platform. Just as he started to make for the house, he found the point of a sword at his throat.
“Hold on thar, lad!” bellowed Captain Blood. “Ye be one of them scoundrels what’s been tampering wi’ me treasure map, and now yur going to pay fer it!”
Nervously, William choked back his fear as he felt the physical sensation of the sword at his throat. Then, suddenly, out of nowhere, annoyance rose in him and he slapped the sword away, glaring defiantly into Captain Blood’s hateful eyes. “I don’t have time for your nonsense!” he shouted. “I have real trouble to deal with. Now, get out of my way!” William shoved past the phantom pirate and disappeared through the attic’s wall, leaving the fuming marauder hopping mad and cursing at the hatch opening.
Finding the thugs, William floated invisibly nearby. “They’re going through the bedrooms now,” he narrated to the others. “They’re not taking anything, though. They’re just looking around.”
“How many are there, Willy?” Ryan asked.
“Two,” William responded,” one big guy and one mean-looking guy with a scar on his face. I think he’s the leader.”
“Hey! I saw those guys when Granny first brought me here. They were across the street, standing next to a broken-down car.”
Stacy sat down next to William, pulled her feet up and wrapped her arms around her knees. “I’m scared,” she moaned. “What if they find us?”
Watching from behind the safe’s control box, Lisa leaned with her good arm upon its top. “It’ll be all right, Stacy,” she said. “I think Ryan is right; they don’t have any reason to come out here. Everything those thieves could want is in the house. Once they get their fill, they’ll leave. You’ll see.”
Not feeling all that comforted by Lisa’s words of encouragement, Stacy put her head against her knees and tried to hold back the tears that were welling up in her eyes.
In the meantime, Bubba, reaching the last of the children’s rooms, once again peered under the bed. “They’re not under this one either, Boss,” he said, grunting, as he heaved himself off the floor.
Mr. Smith searched the top shelf of the closet, examining all of its contents, and then poked his walking stick through the hanging clothes. “They’ve got to be here, somewhere,” he grumbled. “Come out, little kiddies,” he said, sounding as innocent as he could. “We just want to ask you a few questions.” He turned back to Bubba. “Maybe they went out back. Go check, while I go up and search the attic.”
“Boss,” Bubba said, “there are no witnesses yet. Maybe we just check the attic real quick like, and get outta here before we’re seen.”
“No,” Mr. Smith snarled. “If I don’t find what I’m looking for, I’m going to want to question them runts. Kids always know the nooks and crannies of a house. If it’s here, there’s a good chance they know where it is. Besides, I don’t like not knowing what those little buggers are up to,” he added, glancing about suspiciously. “If they’ve already seen us and called for help, were going to need a hostage in order to escape.”
“Uh oh!” William exclaimed. “This isn’t good.”
Ryan leaned in close to William. “What’s up, Willy?”
William removed the Frequency Glasses from his face, thereby disconnecting from the astral plane, and after a brief moment of re-acclimation to his real body, he said, “They’re looking for — us.”
Ryan snapped his fingers and looked at Lisa.
“That must have been why they were parked alongside the road, the day Granny brought me here. They were waiting for your parents to leave, so they could get to y’all without interference from them.”
“But why would they be looking for us?” Lisa asked, still leaning against the back of the control box.
Stacy became terrified. “I knew it, I just knew it!” she sobbed. “They’re probably kidnappers.” She pulled her knees tighter to her chest and rocked nervously back and forth.
“I don’t think so, Sis,” William said. “The ugly guy seems to be looking for something specific. He said he just wants to ask us some questions.” (He decided to keep the part about being taken hostage to himself, lest he worry Stacy even more.)
Ryan shot a worried glance toward the ship’s wheel. “I bet they’re after our treasure map!”
“What treasure map?” Lisa scowled. “All you have is a picture of an island on a stupid ship’s wheel.”
“Not so,” Ryan snapped. “Me and Willy found coordinates and a secret code on the back of the hubcap. We think it’s directions to a buried treasure.”
“Sheesh!” Lisa shook her head defiantly. “You sure have some imagination, Ryan.”
“I’m going back in!” William decided, donning the Frequency Glasses. “I’m going to find out exactly what they’re after.” Within seconds, spectral William once again returned to spying on Mr. Smith.
With all of the shutters closed on the attic windows, the little light there was filtered in from the thin cracks between the shutters’ boards. Mr. Smith squinted and cursed as he rummaged fruitlessly through the various boxes, cupboards, and cabinets.
Invisible and floating near the ceiling, astral William followed Mr. Smith around the attic. “Scarface is talking to himself,” William said to his friends from behind the Frequency Glasses. “Whatever he’s looking for is supposed to make him rich and famous.”
“I was right!” Ryan boomed. “He is after the treasure map.”
“Put it back in the safe,” William advised. “If those thugs get this far, we’ll lock it in there and pretend we don’t know the combination.”
Bubba, meanwhile, wandered around outside the back of the house, looking for the kids. Finding no one there, he moseyed over to the side yard, where he spied the gnarly Baobab tree. I swear, he thought. That’s got to be the strangest sight ever. Looking up, he noticed the pruning platform, as well as the walkway from the house to the tree. He pointed, thoughtfully, toward the platform. Maybe that’s why we haven’t been able to find them.
Bubba made his way up to the attic, where he found Mr. Smith violently poking through boxes and bags with his walking stick. “They’re not out back, Boss,” he said. “But I may know where they are.”
“Then why didn’t you round them up, ninny?” Mr. Smith barked.
In an attempt to get his bearings, Bubba looked around at the various windows. “That’s what I intend on doing right now,” he said, walking over to the Ping-Pong table. After pulling the wobbly table, scraping and screeching, away from the wall, he opened the window and shutters.
“What are you doing?” Mr. Smith said, exasperated.
Bubba pointed toward the top of the tree. “I think those little monkeys are up there,” he answered. “I’m going to go take a look.”
Back down in the damp, earthen cavern, Lisa rested her head on the back of her hand, atop the control box, worrying about the advancing intruders. All of a sudden, she screamed.
Ryan leapt and spun mid-air, swinging and hollering. He landed legs bent, feet apart, and fists at the ready. His hat, bounced from his head, plopped into the dust on the other side of the cave. “Wha — What?” he hollered, his head swiveling back and forth, looking for trouble.
Lisa slapped the top of the control box with the flat of her hand. SQUISH! “Darn spider scared me.” With the back of her fingers she wiped away its smashed remains. “Gross,” she said, her face scrunched up in disgust.
“You pert near caused my heart to jump outta my chest!” Ryan scolded.
Stacy giggled. “Some protector you’ll be.”
Ryan fidgeted a bit and scraped the ground with the tip of his cowboy boot. “She caught me off guard, is all. I’m still ready for them,” he insisted, putting his fists back up in the air.
As she inspected her hands for bug guts, Lisa’s gaze fell on the rear of the control box. “Hey,” she announced. “There’s something etched on the back of this box.” She wiped away the dust. “Here, listen.” She read the inscription aloud:
“Aviators egress skyward.
“Tunnel rats to ground;
“But their WAY to elusion
“Is really turned upside down.”
“Great,” Stacy sulks, “just what we need right now — more cryptic messages.”
“What do you think it means?” Lisa asked, to no one in particular.
Ryan strolled over and retrieved his hat from the floor. “I don’t know,” he said, dusting it off. “But I came across that word before.”
Lisa looked back at the inscription, puzzled. “Which word?”
“That egress word,” he said, sauntering up to the safe. “I don’t know what it means, but I saw it before in one of these-here books.” He poked a thumb toward the stack of journals that he and Willy had returned to the safe earlier.
“It means emergency exit,” William volunteered, without looking away from the Frequency Glasses or breaking from his astral sleuthing.
Lisa’s face lit up. “Do you think there’s an emergency exit — out of here?”
“Well, if there is,” William replied, “you might want to hurry up and find it, because the big guy has just moved the Ping-Pong table and is looking over here.”
Upon the announcement of this alarming news, the small cavern suddenly became alive with activity. Ryan flipped frantically through the maintenance journal, trying to find the egress reference he’d seen previously, in hopes there might be a clue to the anticipated secret exit.
Stacy, on the other hand, wasted no time in hurrying over to Lisa, where together they began scrutinizing the cryptic inscription in an attempt to decipher its mystic meaning. “Well,” she said, “if this riddle is talking about an emergency exit, it certainly doesn’t tell us where to find it.”
“Maybe it does,” Lisa suggested. “Let’s break it down.” Following along with her finger, she again read the first line out loud: “Aviators egress skyward. Okay,” she said, pausing. “The only thing relevant in that sentence is the word egress, which as we have discovered means emergency exit.”
Lisa read the second line: “Tunnel rats to ground. This sentence,” she said, her eyes scanning the ground and lower walls of the cavern, “is suggestive of a tunnel in the ground.”
Stacy looked around as well. She kicked the front of the settee next to William. “Maybe it’s in here?”
Ryan overheard the girls’ discussion. “No,” he said, his eyes still focused on the pages of the maintenance journal. “It’s full of pumps, motors, hoses — that kind of stuff.”
Lisa walked over to the tree’s hollow and looked down at the floor drain. Realizing that there was nothing there besides a small pipe for water runoff, she peered up. “What about the boarded-up door you guys found behind the ladder?” she asked, directing her question to Ryan.
Ryan looked over and shook his head. “No way! It’s boarded up tight, and we have no tools to open ‘er up with. Besides, Willy said it’s surrounded by that wicked thorn bush. We’d never get through it.”
“I hate to rush you all,” William said anxiously. “But that brute will be coming this way any second.”
Just then Ryan came across the sketch of the safe. He studied it. “By gumption, that’s it!” he blurted out. Then laughing, he tapped his finger on the page in front of him. “Here it is! This here space ain’t for maintenance as I first reckoned. It’s the escape tunnel.”
“What space?” Lisa questioned.
Ryan re
ached into the opened safe and knocked on the shelf. A hollow echo returned. “There’s a space below here. I noticed it in this-here sketch before, but figured it was for equipment access.”
Moving away from the control box, Stacy pushed her long blond hair behind her ears and stepped over to the safe. “What makes you think it’s an escape tunnel, now?” she asked.
Ryan looked up. “The riddle, for starters,” he said frankly. “Also, the word egress is written in the space below the safe in this-here sketch; but like I said, I didn’t know what it meant at the time.” He pointed to an area on the page as he handed the book to Stacy.
Stacy examined the sketch. “It does look like the space goes into the ground,” she admitted, passing the journal to Lisa.
“Yeah,” Lisa agreed. “It looks like a tube. In fact, it looks like a slide—look.” She indicated the long, narrow space for the other two to see. “It starts to bend as it leaves the safe.” She looked up excitedly. “I think you’re right, Ryan. I think it is an escape tunnel!”
Stacy cleared her throat, prompting the attention of her friends. “So,” she said, her questioning eyes big and round. “How do we access it?”
“Good question,” Ryan said, regarding Stacy. “I doubt that the designer would have made it obvious.” He examined the control box in detail, and cycled through various settings, all unsuccessfully. “No luck here,” he said, “Lisa, you and Stacy continue working the riddle. See if you can find any clues for accessing the tunnel. I’ll look around for hidden controls.”
“What are you babbling about?” Mr. Smith bellowed. “Where could they go?”
Bubba looked at Mr. Smith and then out the attic window to the Baobab tree.
Mr. Smith grumbled under his breath as he hobbled to Bubba’s side. Shading his eyes from the bright daylight, he stared out at the massive and gnarly tree. His upper lip curled. “So? What? You think they went where?” He pointed his walking stick at the tree. “You can see there’s no one on that platform.”
“They could be lying down, Boss. It’s worth a look.”