by Terri Bertha
“Huh?” Nick tilted his head to the side, looking confused. “What are you talking about? I’m caught up with my homework.”
Chris leaned over and whispered in his friend’s ear. “No, you goofball. I want to talk to you about the map. We have to try to figure out where that tree is before anyone else finds the treasure.”
“Ooohhhh,” said Nick, as though he just solved some big puzzle. “I get you now. Let’s meet up with the rest of the group and put our heads together. Maybe instead of coming up with treasure, we come up with a body.”
“That’s not funny.”
“Sorry. You know what I meant.”
The next day, the rest of the boys, and Amy and Lindsay met at Chris’ house to see the map and hear the story.
“That’s something,” said Paul. “It was literally ‘Brother against Brother’.”
“How sad that they killed him for helping out his brother and the platoon,” said Amy. “Do you think the map is of our town? It could be anyplace. It doesn’t even have street signs on it.”
“It’s worth taking a shot investigating,” said Chris. “Maybe we’ll all be rich tomorrow and never have to go to school again, and our parents can quit their jobs, and we can be on vacation all the time. We do have a set of railroad tracks that go along the edge of town. Maybe that’s what those parallel lines are. And the trees have to be a couple of hundred years old now if they weren’t cut down. But, it could be our town. We need to act fast before anyone else beats us to the treasure.”
“How would anyone else even know about the map?” said Paul.
“We don’t know for sure that no one else knows this map exists,” said Chris. “Let’s get started.”
“Let’s try to make out some kind of landmark,” said Paul. “We can’t look at every tree in town.”
“It looks like these wavy lines may be water,” said Nick. “Like a creek or a river.”
Upon closer inspection, Amy said, “Hey, doesn’t this look like the letters ‘Cem….e.y’? It could be the old town cemetery. And there are the paths that go through the woods.”
“Yeah! I bet that’s it,” yelled Nick. “Hopefully, the tree is still standing and we find ourselves a treasure or a body.”
“What did I tell you earlier? Not funny,” said Chris.
“Sorry,” Nick said, grinning.
The kids traveled down to the edge of town where the old cemetery sat between the railroad tracks and a row of huge old oak trees. Even though it was daylight, the thickness of the tree limbs and leaves turned the surroundings into darkness.
“Did anyone bring a flashlight?” asked Chris.
“I did,” said Jack. “Don’t know why. Just thought it may be helpful, along with a shovel to dig.”
When they reached the cemetery, they noticed only a few headstones, sitting crooked and half buried in the ground. The engravings on the front were barely readable from the years gone by. The kids started walking by the trees, inspecting each one.
“We found it!” yelled Chris when they got to the fifth tree. “We found the tree with the ‘X’. Everyone take a look around and see if we find anything else.”
They were about ready to start digging when Jack hollered, “I found something, guys.” Jack’s hands were brushing away dirt and leaves in the tangled roots at the base of the tree. The kids gathered around closely and watched in anticipation as he pulled out an old leather pouch.
“Here,” said Jack to Chris, handing him the pouch. “You open it.”
Chris carefully untied the rawhide strings.
“Maybe it’s a big diamond,” said Lindsay, jumping up and down. Then she stopped and said, “But how do we split up a diamond?”
“We hit it with a big hammer,” laughed Nick. “How do you think we do it?”
Everyone laughed and waited eagerly to see the pouch contents.
Chris reached inside and pulled out a piece of paper.
“Don’t tell me it’s another map,” said Nick.
“No, it looks like a poem or something.”
“What kind of stupid treasure is that?” said Paul. “A poem!”
“Hurry up and read it!” ordered Lindsay, who was the bossiest of them all. “Maybe it will tell us where to find the treasure!”
“Okay, be quiet and listen up,” said Chris.
My spirit holds here,
Tied to a tree.
Without a sacrifice,
It’s eternity.
The rope tear down,
And place below.
My spirit then free,
Will forward go.
I need release,
For me to be free.
A sign of the cross,
To bury me.
The sacrifice,
You need to show,
Is help me down,
To earth below.
“What the heck does that mean?” asked Lindsay. “It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Yeah, it doesn’t make sense. And what about the part about a sacrifice? What’s that supposed to mean?” said Paul.
“Maybe we need to kill something or kill someone?” said Nick. “I know. How about if we kill Chuckie?”
“Hey, what?” yelled Chuckie. “That’s not funny.”
No one laughed at Nick’s joke, and then Jack said, “I’m not going to kill anything or anyone. I think we should get out of here. There’s no treasure. It’s a stupid poem. This is creepy.”
All the kids agreed and turned around, walking away from the tree. Shadows darkened and tree limbs blocked the sky, making the path barely visible. The kids walked for fifteen minutes when Amy said, “We should be out of here by now. It didn’t take us this long to come in.”
Reaching out his arm and pointing, Jack said, “Look. We’re back by the tree with the ‘X’. How did that happen? We walked in a circle.”
“Come on, guys,” said Lindsay. “This isn’t funny. Let’s get out of here.”
“How about if we go out this way?” said Amy, leading the group on a different path.
“Yeah,” said Chris, following right behind. “This looks more familiar.”
The kids took the new path in the opposite direction and within minutes, they were back to the same spot with the marked tree. Anxiety spread among the group, and the thought that they would never get out filled their minds.
Nick and Amy both checked the time on their watches. It wasn’t going to be long before daylight would vanish and night would settle in.
“Our phones should be able to get us out,” said Chris.
“Nope. I already checked mine and the others. We don’t have signals,” said Paul.
“Okay. Let’s stop and think about this,” said Amy. “We’re all intelligent and know north, east, south and west,” she said, looking up to the sky to see where the sun was setting.
“Oh, no,” said Amy, eyes darting back and forth looking up at the tree limbs. “Chris, what were the first few lines of that poem again?”
“‘My spirit holds here, tied to a tree. Without a sacrifice, it’s eternity.’”
“Take a look at what’s above us,” said Amy, head tilted back.
The kids lifted their eyes, seeing the tattered remains of an old rope hanging from a tree branch.
“I think we’re dealing with a spirit now,” whispered Amy. “He’s telling us that his spirit is still hanging here, and a sacrifice needs to be made for it to be released.”
“I think you’ve been playing with that Ouija board too much,” said Paul jokingly.
“There’s that ‘sacrifice part’ I don’t like,” said Chuckie.
Amy pursed her lips. “Remember the story Chris’s dad told? They never marked or found his remains. Not until that happens will he be able to rest.”
“What kind of sacrifice do we need to make?” questioned Nick.
“Hmm,” said Amy. “Read the next line, Chris.”
“The next part says, ‘I need release for me to be free’.”
<
br /> “I think the sacrifice is we need to get that rope down,” said Amy, jumping, trying to pull it down unsuccessfully.
“Paul. You get up on Lou’s shoulders, and pull what’s left of that rope down. Everyone stand around them in case they fall or lose their balance.”
Lou hunkered down and Paul climbed on his shoulders. Rising to a standing position, Lou’s legs shook under Paul’s weight. Just as Paul was high enough to grab the rope, Lou yelled, “I can’t hold you anymore!” Jumping to the ground unharmed, Lou joked, “Why don’t you think about losing some weight?”
The kids laughed and Lindsay said, “Okay. We got the rope. Is the spirit happy now?”
“I don’t this so,” said Amy. “The next line says ‘A sign of the cross to bury me’. Quick, everyone make the ‘Sign of the cross’.”
“I don’t know how to make the ‘Sign of the Cross’,” said Nick.
“Like this,” said Lindsay, grabbing Nick’s hand, touching his fingers to his forehead and crossing across his chest. “Okay. We got the rope and made the sign of the cross. What else do we need to do? I want to get out of here.”
Chris read the last line of the poem. “‘A sacrifice you need to show, is help me to the earth below’. I’m not sure what that means ‘help me to the earth below’.”
Amy looked down at the ground, and when Chris finished reading, her cross necklace broke and fell at her feet.
“I got it!” she shouted. “The sacrifice. My necklace is the sacrifice!”
Amy’s wild, crazed look made the others think she was possessed.
“What do you mean?” asked Chris.
“A sign of the cross to bury me. It all makes sense now. It wasn’t that we needed to kill something, but I had to sacrifice my necklace. And it wasn’t make the ‘Sign of the Cross’, but use my cross as a grave marker. Get it? He never had a tombstone marker. My cross necklace is his tombstone marker. We need to complete this so he can be put to rest.”
Chris and Nick opened the pouch and placed the necklace, the remains of the rope, and the poem back inside. They covered it with dirt and leaves back in the tangled roots at the base of the tree where it was originally found.
Falling leaves fluttered from branches, landing on the ground, settling into a shape of a heart. Rays of sunlight emerged through the grove darkness and illuminated the leaves. A gentle warm breeze blew, and the group joined hands together forming a circle beneath the huge oak.
“Well,” said Chris. “We didn’t find a treasure, but I think we found something much better.”
A few weeks later, city utility workers digging near the old cemetery, found a coffin buried beneath a tree marked with a large ‘X’. The remains were clothed in the uniform of a Civil War soldier. A cross necklace was intertwined in his skeleton fingers. Yellowed tattered papers identified him as the brother of Chris’ great-great-great-grandfather. City officials buried the casket next to his brother and the rumor of the family hauntings was finally put to rest.
Chapter Seven
Mike the Bike
“Hey, Mom,” said Nick. “I’m going out with Mike for a while, okay?”
“Sure. But who’s Mike? I never heard you talk about him before.”
“Mike’s my bike.”
“You named your bike?”
“Yeah, I named him. Like a captain names his ship. He’s a lot of fun to hang with. We go all kinds of places together, and I make sure I keep him in tip-top shape and wash him once in a while when he gets muddy.”
“Okay. You and Mike have a good ride and stay safe. Be home in time for dinner though.”
“I will, Mom.” Nick sprinted out to the garage to his bike.
Nick loved his bike. He saved birthday and Christmas money to select a good-riding bike that would be comfortable on long excursions.
He decorated the fenders with some cool ‘Skull and Crossbones’ decals, and bought one of the best night riding headlights for the front. The black ‘cruiser’ frame had strings of orange lights that could be adjusted to blink or stay constant. On the handlebar was a horn in the shape of a skull, and he had red reflectors on the back for added safety.
Nick also wore his black skull and crossbones t-shirt, and helmet adorned with the same.
“Okay, Mike. Let’s go,” he said as he flew down the driveway.
Mike had a knack on knowing how to handle the road with Nick. Coming up on potholes, the bike automatically veered avoiding them, saving Nick from bouncing hard on the seat.
Speeding down hills was one of their favorites, along with hugging turns and whizzing around corners and tight places. Nick and Mike were made for each other and enjoyed riding together.
Nick stopped in front of Mr. Jacob’s convenience store to buy a drink when he spied a sign on the door. ‘Closed—Under New Management’. Geez. I completely forgot Mr. Jacob sold his store. Now I’ll need to go over to the grocery store.
“Let’s go, Mike,” he said aloud. “A little side trip.”
Enjoying his drive to the grocery store, his mood changed when he caught sight of ‘Barry’ walking around the corner. Too late.
“Hey, Nick, nice bike you have there. Wish I had one like that. Do you ever take that creepy shirt off? It must be all sweaty and smelly since you wear it all the time.”
Nick ignored ‘Barry’ and kept riding down the street, keeping his head straight and focused, hoping he would give up and stop harassing him.
Almost all the kids considered ‘Barry’ arrogant and a big bully. He wasn’t always like that, but in the last year he changed. There were a couple of misfits who hung around with him, but this afternoon, ‘Barry’ was alone.
As Nick rode further down the street, he saw Lou. Relieved, he said, “Hey, Lou. Wanna ride bikes together?”
“Sure. We haven’t ridden together for a while.”
“I want to stop and get a drink first, but we need to go to Adam’s grocery. I forgot Mr. Jacob closed his store.”
“Yeah,” said Lou. “Mr. Jacob really wigged out. Don’t know what happened to him, but he got all goofy crazy because me and Paul owed him twenty-nine cents. We gave him thirty cents and told him to keep the change.”
The boys laughed and sped over to Adam’s, parking their bikes outside while they went in to get their drinks. While they were paying at the register, Nick saw ‘Barry’ out the store window climbing onto Mike.
“That creep is getting on my bike,” yelled Nick so loud that everyone in line turned and stared at him. He lowered his voice. “I need to get out there fast. I’m going use your bike to go after him.”
Nick ran out the store. “Hey, ‘Barry’! Get off my bike! Get off now!”
‘Barry’ was already on the bike riding away full speed. Nick was only seconds behind when he jumped on Lou’s bike and took off after him. Lou’s bike certainly didn’t handle like Mike, but there was no other choice, as the most important thing now was to try and catch ‘Barry’.
“Stop!” But ‘Barry’ ignored Nick and pedaled faster.
Every time Nick closed in, ‘Barry’ was able to speed up and increase the distance between them.
“This bike really moves,” ‘Barry’ said, nice and loud, laughing.
Then he heard a voice out of nowhere. “Hey, fatso. How about getting off me? You’re breaking my fenders.”
“What the heck? Who’s that?”
“Hey, didn’t you hear me, fatty? Get off me!”
Oh, I get it, thought ‘Barry’. Nick must have rigged up a system to broadcast recorded messages. He’s going to have to tell me how he did that.
Ahead of him, ‘Barry’ saw a stretch of level ground and thought he could get ahead of Nick and lose him. Switching to a higher gear, and leaning forward over the handlebars, he raced through a red light, never noticing the car going through the intersection. Nick breathed a sigh of relief seeing Mike made it through without getting damaged.
Nick waited at the red light impatiently as ‘Barry’ started dis
appearing from site. Once the light changed, he took off, luckily spotting ‘Barry’ up ahead in the distance.
When ‘Barry’ thought he could lose Nick once and for all, Mike’s handle bars turned to the left and locked in place. ‘Barry’ struggled trying to straighten the grips and change gears.
“What the heck? What’s the matter with these handlebars?” he muttered, and rode around in circles a few times.
Then the handlebars unlocked, and ‘Barry’s’ thighs pushed down harder on the pedals. Approaching a steep hill, he thought, If I can’t switch to a lower gear, I’ll never make it up this hill.
“Suck it up, ‘Barry’,” said the voice.
‘Barry’ found he had no control over the bike, which appeared to have a mind of its own. Even though he was pedaling as fast as he could, he wasn’t making much headway, and Nick was closing in.
When ‘Barry’ reached the top of the hill, the ground leveled out. Having no control on their direction, the bike rode ‘Barry’ through every pothole, causing him to bounce up and down on the seat. “Ow! My butt hurts. I can’t believe he rides this piece of crap!”
“Take that back.” said the voice.
How is Nick controlling this bike?
“You better slow down. You’re going too fast. You’re driving dangerously.”
‘Barry’ heard enough and thought if he spoke in a commanding voice, the bike would stop talking. “Oh, shut up,” he said. “You’re mine now. Nick is going to be too much of a scaredy cat to try to take you back from me.”
“I’ll never be yours. I belong to Nick. I’ll ride away from you any time I can. You’ll never own me.”
This is crazy. His bike’s talking to me, and I’m talking to a bike.
“Why don’t you shut up and let me ride you?”
“It’s not nice to say ‘shut up’”. You better learn some manners. I don’t like you. I bet you don’t have many friends.”
‘Barry’s face reddened and he started pedaling harder, the bike zigzagging all over the road. Nick was catching up and screaming. “Stop!”
“I’m never stopping! Your bike is mine! You’ll never get it back!”
Veering onto an old gravel road, ‘Barry’ leaned over the handlebars, hair blowing in the wind, pedaling faster and faster, and kicking up dirt and stones.