The Treasure Hunt Club

by Michael Scott Clifton

  “But what about Colonel Buckley’s wife?” Nick persisted. “He must have told her something if he knew he was dying!”

  “If he did, she took it to her grave She never admitted—even to her children—to knowing the strongbox’s location. However,” Lilly remarked wryly, “that hasn’t stopped folks from looking. If I had a dollar for every hole dug in this county from someone looking for Buckley’s gold, I would be the boss and Donald Trump would be the apprentice! In fact, legend has it that when Colonel Buckley’s widow died years later, the poor woman hadn’t even grown cold in her casket before the colonel’s home was taken apart, brick by brick and board by board, by some Yankee scalawags looking for the gold!”

  Thinking of The Book of Lost Treasures, Nick asked, “So what do you think happened to the gold?”

  “Honey, I haven’t a clue!” Lilly snorted. “Life’s too short to waste time chasin’ that cat’s tail. Besides, like I said, there’s been plenty of fools who have already tried and failed to find it. However, I can tell you that the general thinkin’ is that Colonel Buckley had to have hidden the payroll somewhere around D’Lo. It’s an area he was familiar with, and in his severely wounded condition, he must have known he didn’t have a lot of time left to hide the gold.”

  “So there you have it! The story of Buckley’s gold!” Lilly said as she got up from the table. “Jed had the bright idea to print the maze on the placemats so that any tourist who stopped here on the way to the gambling boats in Biloxi would remember the motel and restaurant. He thought maybe we might drum up some more business that way.”

  At the mention of Jed’s name, Nick suddenly remembered his promise to give him a ride to his cousin’s tire shop.

  “Do you know where Jed is right now?”

  “Sure! He’s where he always is this time of the morning. In the kitchen cookin,’” Lilly replied, jerking her thumb in the kitchen’s direction.

  Seeing the surprised look on Nick’s face, Lilly chuckled. “Honey, this ain’t no IHOP. In a small operation like this one, everybody wears a lot of different hats. After the breakfast rush is over, I gotta clean rooms.” Hearing a customer call her name, Lilly turned and left Nick to ponder the story of Colonel Efurd Buckley.

  Finding he was famished, Nick wolfed down his breakfast, paid his bill, and left, what was for him, a generous tip for Lilly. Making his way back to his room, he unlocked the door and closed it behind him. Picking up The Book of Lost Treasures lying on the nightstand next to the bed, he turned to the book’s first page. Hesitating for a moment, he furtively looked around, as if to make sure no one was watching him. Carefully, he reread the rules of The Book of Lost Treasures one more time.

  Then he took the pen lying on the Poolside Motel pad, and under “What is the lost treasure which you seek?” he wrote in the book:

  “Where is the hidden strongbox of Eferd Buckley?”

  Holding his breath, Nick waited for something to happen. Not really knowing what to expect, he gripped the thin book tightly, as if afraid it would grow wings and fly out of his hands. Seconds passed, which, in turn, grew into minutes. When five minutes had passed, Nick impatiently leafed through the book’s pages. Not a thing appeared to him, except the same blank pages as before. He closed the book with a loud thump and threw it on the bed.

  “What did you expect?” he mumbled angrily to himself. “A tiny green genie to pop out of the book and grant you three wishes?” Stalking out of his room, he spent the next forty-five minutes wandering around the small motel and its grounds before finally ending up at the motel’s swimming pool. He waited impatiently for Jed to exit the restaurant. Sitting under the shade of a table with an umbrella sprouting from the middle of it, Nick studied the pool. He was pleasantly surprised to see that the pool and the area around the pool were immaculate.

  A white-washed, four-foot, wrought iron fence surrounded the pool, and colorful begonias and zinnias in colors of pink, red, yellow, and white were planted all along the fence. The pool itself was a throwback to the times when large pools were built at motels and had water depths that graduated from three-foot to twelve-foot depths within it. The mesh-metal chairs and tables around the pool had also been painted white, and overstuffed waterproof pillows were tied to their seats and backs.

  The morning was already getting hot, and Nick was seriously contemplating taking a dip in the inviting blue water of the pool, when he spotted Jed exiting the front doors of the restaurant. Leaping up, he ran through the pool’s gate and after Jed.

  Jed spotted Nick and stopped to wait for him. A white grease- stained apron was tied around his waist, and he waved tiredly in greeting at Nick. As Nick approached Jed, he saw that his hair, amazingly, was still stuck up, cockscomb-like.

  “Hey!” Nick said breathlessly as he skidded to a stop beside Jed.

  “Hey,” Jed said in return. “I guess you’re ready to go see Bobby Dale so you can get your tire fixed?”

  As Nick nodded eagerly, Jed suppressed a yawn. “It’s gettin’ harder and harder to keep these hours. Just as soon as I take you to Bobby Dale’s, I got me an appointment with a soft bed and a feather pillow.” Motioning for Nick to follow him, he led him to a candy apple red Ford pickup parked next to the motel office. The Ford was an extended cab, and opening the door, Jed untied his apron and tossed it in the back of the cab.

  A fishing rod, a bolt- action .22 caliber rifle, and a red, white, and blue NASCAR cap hung from a rack fixed to the back window of the cab. Motioning Nick to get in, Jed grabbed the NASCAR cap and jammed it on his head. He turned the ignition, and the truck rumbled to life. Moments later, they exited the motel parking lot and turned onto the highway in front of the motel.

  As they drove back toward D’Lo, Jed kept up a conversation with Nick as he pointed out places of interest in and around the greater “metro” area of D’Lo. Nick, no stranger himself to a small-town environment, relaxed in the constant friendly banter from Jed. Coming to the intersection of the blinking yellow light in D’Lo, Jed turned the truck left onto another road, which led west out of the small hamlet. They had gone less than half a mile when they came to Bobby Dale’s tire shop, located beside the road. Turning into the tire shop, Jed parked the truck and killed the engine.

  Nick got out of the truck and looked around. The place looked to be an old gas station that had been converted into the tire shop. Tires of every size and description were stacked head high in an around the shop. There were two garage bays to Nick’s right, and one was empty, while the other had a dark blue van suspended several feet off the floor by the garage’s hydraulic lift. A dusky brown tow truck with “Bobby Dale’s Tires” stenciled on both doors was parked beside the garage bays. An air-powered lug wrench lay on the ground next to the van, the air hose snaking from it to the compressor located at the back of the garage. There was no one in the garage bays, so Nick and Jed made their way to the office area next to the garage.

  The large plate glass windows of the office were tinted black, so Nick could see nothing inside. Just as they reached the door to the office, Bobby Dale stepped out.

  For a moment, Nick’s mouth hung open as he stared at Jed’s cousin, who looked like he had just come straight from a casting call of a Pirates of the Caribbean movie! Tall and rail-thin, Bobby Dale had a black do-rag tied around his head, which covered shaggy gray hair pulled back in a ponytail, while a matching black eye patch covered his right eye. A gold medallion of some kind hung from a heavy gold chain about his neck, while one ear sported a large, gold hoop earring. A black skull and crossbones with a dagger plunged through it was tattooed on his left fore- arm. Bobby Dale wore a pair of faded, blue, Dickies overalls stained here and there with oil. When he smiled at the sight of his cousin, Jed, he exposed two gold front teeth.

  “Jed! What brings you here this time of the mornin’?” he boomed as he clapped Jed on the back.

  “Well, I have a guest here who needs a new tire. Can you fix him up?” Jed asked.

  “Why sure
! How’s your mama, by the way? I didn’t see her at church last Sunday.” The next few minutes were spent in small talk between Jed and Bobby Dale, as they apparently caught up each other up on family matters, large and small. Finally, Bobby Dale hopped into the tow truck and followed them back to the motel. Pulling up to Nick’s car, Jed let him out while he drove back to his room next to the motel office to catch up on some much-needed sleep.

  Bobby Dale had already climbed down from the tow truck and was examining Nick’s tire when Jed drove away. A wry look of amusement was on his face as he carried out his inspection.

  “They keep making these cars smaller n’ smaller, don’t they?” he commented. “Hell, I got a refrigerator bigger’n your car. If this keeps up, one day all we’re going to need is bicycle tires for cars!”

  “Well … it does get good gas mileage,” Nick managed to say.

  “Yep, I bet it does!” Bobby Dale said as he stood up and wiped his hands on an oil rag stuffed in the back pocket of the Dickies.

  Looking at Nick, he said, “The tire is ruined, and you’re going to need a new one. I don’t carry tires that small in stock, and I’m going to hafta order it from a supplier in Jackson. Fortunately, the supplier runs a truck through here to Biloxi and Gulfport twice a week, and that truck will be through here tomorrow mornin’. I can get the tire then. The only other alternative is for me to drive to Jackson to pick up the tire, which will be expensive!”

  When Nick asked how expensive, he gulped at the figure Bobby Dale gave him and quickly told him that tomorrow would be fine. It was cheaper just to stay one more night at the motel! As Bobby Dale got back into his tow truck and drove off, Nick sighed in resignation as he headed back to his room. At the rate he was going, he would have spent all of his money before he even reached the beaches of Biloxi! Reaching his room, he unlocked the door and threw himself onto the bed.

  When is my luck going to change? he wondered bitterly.

  Chapter 9

  Nick changed into a pair of old shorts and spent much of the rest of the morning and early afternoon at the motel’s swimming pool. For the most part, he had the pool all to himself with only a couple of children and their mother, who splashed around in the shallow end of the pool for a half hour or so to mar his solitude. Finally tiring of swimming, Nick went back to his room and took a nap.

  It was early evening when Nick woke up from his nap. Going to the bathroom, Nick splashed water on his face to revive him- self. As he dried his face off with a towel, his stomach rumbled, reminding him he had had nothing to eat since breakfast early that morning. Grabbing his wallet and room key, he exited his room and headed back toward the motel restaurant. As he approached the restaurant, he saw the parking lot was again full of cars, and as he entered through its double glass doors, the place was, if possible, even more crowded than it had been for breakfast. Nick searched for several minutes before he finally spotted a small table open near the back of the room. Hurrying, lest someone beat him to the table, Nick reached it moments later and sat down.

  The constant drone of dozens of conversations being carried out as people chatted while they were eating serenaded Nick’s ears as he studied the dinner menu. He hadn’t seen Lilly, and he wondered if Jed also had to cook at night. Putting the menu down, he looked up and was treated with the sight of the “World Famous Rotating Buffet” in action.

  Ice had been spread out within the buffet’s interior, and various chilled salads lay in large stainless-steel bowls resting on the ice. Moving and clanking like the treads on an Abrams tank, the buffet’s conveyer belt-like surface rolled slowly around the buffet in a counterclockwise fashion. Steaming pans of meats and vegetables lay on the buffet’s moving surface, each spaced an appropriate distance from the other. Hungry customers stood by the buffet, slowly shuffling along lemming-like with its moving tread as they loaded their plates with the entrées they desired. Most must have been regulars to the rotating buffet, as they seemed to know the drill in obtaining their food from its moving surface. It was an amazing spectacle, and one which Nick joined moments later, as he ordered the buffet from the waitress who appeared at his table.

  Not as skilled as the regulars, Nick missed on a few attempts to spear or fork food onto his plate as it rumbled by him. He felt foolish following the food around the buffet, so instead, he was content to wait until it came around to the position he stood at. After a few minutes, he managed to load his plate and headed back to his table.

  Spooning some mashed potatoes and gravy into his mouth, he had to admit that with or without the rotating buffet, the food was good. Soon, he cleaned his plate and went back for seconds. Ten minutes later, stuffed, he sat back contentedly in his chair and waited for the waitress to bring him his ticket.

  Nick’s eyes idly fell upon the placemat partially covered by his plate. Pushing the plate aside, he took his napkin and wiped a drop of brown gravy that had fallen from his plate off the paper placemat. Bored, he glanced at the maze on the placemat with its title of “Find Efurd Buckley’s Hidden Gold!” Suddenly, his eyes opened wide, and he sat bolt upright. He had spelled it E-F-E-R-D in The Book of Lost Treasures! Thinking hard, he remembered that one of the rules the book listed was that a lost treasure must be “precisely” described! What if that included spelling? As his waitress approached his table, Nick practically grabbed the ticket from her hand as he jumped up and headed for the cashier. Paying for his bill, Nick sprinted for his room.

  Fumbling for his key, Nick finally unlocked the door and ran into his room. The mysterious book lay on the nightstand by the bed, and Nick opened it to the first page. His heart pounding, he located what he had written earlier and carefully drew a line through “Eferd” and wrote above it the properly spelled name of “Efurd.” It now read, “Where is the hidden strongbox of Efurd Buckley?”

  A golden glow immediately seemed to emanate from within the book, coming from behind the first page. With trembling fingers, Nick turned the page. There, before his incredulous eyes and where once there was a blank page, was a neatly drawn map!

  The map was detailed with roads, landmarks, directional markers, and approximate distances. As Nick studied the map in disbelief, he found it reminded him of MapQuest directions printed from a computer. Only MapQuest directions didn’t glow in a soft, ambient light!

  A golden glowing line led from the Poolside Motel to a spot approximately three miles north of D’Lo. It ended abruptly with the words “Here Lies the Lost Treasure” that seemed to glow brighter than anything else on the map. As Nick continued to excitedly study the map, he was struck again by the highly stylized writing on the map that didn’t seem to fit with the modern directions shown on it.

  It was like someone installing a fuel-injected engine in a Model T car frame. It just didn’t seem to mesh, as if the book itself was from a different age than Nick was currently living in.

  Nick once again considered the possibility that someone was still trying to play a practical joke on him. However, if that were true, how had they known he was going to end up in D’Lo, the victim of a flat tire? They could have planted a GPS device in his car, he supposed, but why would anybody want to go that trouble and expense for a stupid joke? Even if that could somehow be explained, and even if Hank Harper was in cahoots with … with whomever it was playing this game, how would Hank have known which painting to plant the book in? Nick hadn’t known himself what he was exactly looking for when he entered Hank’s shop! Besides, he had already carefully examined the mysterious book and found nothing on it or in it that could produce the glowing writing and map that abruptly appeared in the book! That left only one possibility: that The Book of Lost Treasures was possessed of some sort of … of mystical powers!

  If he could have, Nick would have left then and there to search for the location of Efurd Buckley’s gold as shown on the map in the book. However, he had no car, at least not until the next morning. Until then, he had to be content to bide his time. Nick studied the map long into the ni
ght until his eyes became heavy and sleep finally overcame him.

  His last thoughts before he slumbered were on the gold and riches that might be found in the strongbox of Efurd Buckley.

  Chapter 10

  When Nick woke up the next morning, he was so excited over the map in The Book of Lost Treasures that he couldn’t eat breakfast. Impatiently, he waited for Bobby Dale to show up and replace the ruined tire on his car. Finally, Bobby Dale arrived just past ten thirty in the morning. Attaching the tow truck’s hitch to the Sprint’s small bumper, Bobby Dale raised the little car’s rear end a few feet in the air. It was just a few minutes work from there to take the ruined tire off. Using a portable tire changer anchored to the bed of the tow truck, Bobby Dale forced the ruined tire off the rim before placing the new tire on it. Removing an air tank from the cab of the tow truck, he quickly filled the small tire with air. Nick paid Bobby Dale cash for the tire, thanked him, and then watched him drive off.

  As soon as Bobby Dale’s truck had driven out of sight, Nick sprinted to his room and retrieved The Book of Lost Treasures. Closing and locking his room behind him, Nick took the book and ran to his car. Getting into the car, Nick carefully placed the book so that it lay open in the passenger seat, showing the map. Starting the car, he drove out of the Poolside Motel parking lot, following the map’s directions.

  It took Nick almost forty minutes before he finally pulled to a stop on a dirt road that lay next to an open field, maybe a pasture. As unfamiliar as he was to the area, he had had to backtrack numerous times, even following the meticulous directions on the map, before he had finally reached the location where Efurd’s gold was located. Along the way, he had made another amazing discovery about the map in The Book of Lost Treasures: a bright, blood-red spot had appeared mysteriously on the map the moment he had pulled out of the motel parking lot and had started the hunt for the hidden strongbox! The red dot appeared to move, and after puzzling over it for a few moments, it had suddenly occurred to Nick that the red dot was his location on the map! That was why he was certain he had arrived at the proper location. The red dot’s position on the map was almost on top of the “Here Lies the Lost Treasure” in the book.