Gasparilla's Treasure (Trip Mongomery Book 1)

by Scott Clements

  And of course, here came one of Eli’s goons and a few of the goon’s friends.

  “Oh Francis,” taunted the goon. “Why can't I have a boy's name? Please someone give me a boy’s name.”

  The friend added stuffily, “Yes Francis Montgomery the Fourth. Report hastily to the principal's office.” They both laughed and patted each other on the back.

  “Oh you guys are so funny,” said Trip. “Ha, ha. I've never heard anyone make fun of my name before.”

  He hurried away, careful not to make eye contact with anyone as he went.

  Trip arrived at the principal’s office to find Mom there waiting, barely holding herself together. Tears ran down her face, and this stopped Trip in his tracks.

  “Pappy had a heart attack,” Mom managed to squeak out. “He's in a coma. They don't know if he's going to make it.”

  “But I just saw him… He… Pappy said…” tried Trip.

  The words would not come out. All of a sudden everything that happened today meant nothing. Pappy was in a coma and he may never come out of it. He may even die. Trip melted into his Mom’s arms and they cried together.

  CHAPTER 5

  Trip and Mom spent the rest of the day with Pappy, talking to doctors. When they got home, Josh was waiting on the front porch playing a video game. Josh really was a great friend, and Trip was happy to see him. For nearly a full second, Josh gave Trip sort of a half-hug.

  “Dude,” said Josh. “That’s pretty messed up. You know, with your Pappy and all.”

  “Thanks Josh, but didn’t you have some gaming competition today?” asked Trip.

  “SOME gaming competition!” Josh said excitedly. “It’s only the biggest gaming competition in the country!” Josh calmed himself, “Yes, I was supposed to, but when they told me about your Pappy… I mean I guess I’ve never really known anyone that died before. I did have a fish die once, but we just flushed him down the toilet.”

  “He’s not dead, Josh. He’s going to be fine,” said Trip, not sure if he believed it himself.

  “OK, if you say so,” said Josh noncommittally. “Is your head all screwed up or anything? Like, are you gonna need some therapy or anything?”

  Trip was used to his inability to have normal human interaction, so Josh’s dispassionate attitude didn’t bother him a bit. It was actually kind of nice to have someone talk straight about the situation with Pappy. Everyone Trip talked to today treated him like a fragile mental case, but not Josh. He came right out and said what he was thinking, and Trip felt comfortable saying what was on his mind around Josh.

  “I just keep thinking about that trunk,” said Trip. “It's so strange... Pappy tells me about this thing. More like he’s GOT to tell me, and then goes into a coma. Don't you think the timing is a little weird?”

  Trip had thought about it most of the day. He remembered what a struggle it was for Pappy to hold on to reality yesterday while he told Trip about the trunk. It must have been extremely important to him. Did Pappy somehow know that he would go into a coma, or even die? Did he feel it was his last chance to tell Trip about the trunk? If only Pappy could have told him more about what he was supposed to do.

  “I guess that trunk thing was pretty important to your Pappy,” said Josh.

  “Not WAS important. It IS important to him. So it’s important to me. I’m going to find that trunk, and Pappy will be OK. You’ll see,” said Trip.

  The answers were in that trunk. If he could find the trunk, Pappy would be OK. He just needed to find a time when Mom was not paying attention so he could sneak into the attic and get it. “Oh. I almost forgot,” said Josh. “I saw Sarah after school today”

  “Aw, man! I was supposed to walk her home today. That’s twice I’ve stood her up,” Trip groaned.

  “No, that’s not what I meant,” said Josh. “I kind of saw her from far away. She was with Eli. He was kind of hugging her, and they were about to kiss. It was really nasty.”

  This was one of the times when Trip wished Josh did understand human interaction. This felt worse than getting punched in the stomach. He had totally misjudged Sarah. But he could not focus on that right now. He needed to find that trunk.

  “Mom is on the other end of the house checking her emails and doing some business stuff,” whispered Trip as he pulled down the creaky attic steps. “That usually takes about an hour before she starts to make dinner, and she’s been in there about fifteen minutes. That should give us plenty of time to get in and get out.”

  “Are you sure that thing is even up there?” asked Josh dubiously he peered up into the attic. “You know I have asthma, right?”

  “Pappy said it’s in the attic,” said Trip firmly as he started to climb.

  “Um Trip, you may want to come back down for a second,” said Josh.

  “Don’t be such a baby. It’s just an attic,” Trip replied.

  He turned around and saw that Mom stood in the hallway with her arms across her chest and a look on her face that could stop a charging bull.

  “What are you doing?” asked Mom in a rigid voice. “I told you that you are not to go after that trunk!”

  Trip did his best to wiggle out of the situation. “We were just going up to look for that...umm.”

  “...old video game we used to play,” finished Josh, trying to help out.

  “Yeah, the one we played when we were kids,” added Trip. “What was it called again, Josh?”

  Mom boomed back, “DO NOT LIE TO ME! You were going after that trunk.”

  Josh jumped back, startled, but Trip was not scared. He was ready for a fight.

  “This is what Pappy wants!” shouted Trip.

  Mom returned the shout, “And the other day he wanted you to look after his pet dinosaur, Harry! Your grandfather is delusional. If he hadn't spent his whole life on that all consuming quest for God knows what then maybe he would have...”

  Trip could not contain himself. “You never let me do anything!”

  “That’s because you’re a kid! You have no idea what you’re getting yourself in to.”

  Trip made his final stand, determined. “I am going in the attic and I’m getting that trunk.”

  Mom moved to block the attic stairs. “Then you’ll have to go through me.”

  They stood in steely silence, staring each other down, neither willing to budge.

  Josh finally broke the silence. “Um this is a little bit awkward for me, so I think I’m just gonna go now. So if you need anything…”

  Josh put his fingers up to his ear like a phone and mouthed call me.

  CHAPTER 6

  Trip stared at the ceiling, listening to the silence as he lay in bed. He looked at the clock. It was 2:34 a.m. There was no way he could sleep after a day like this. First, there was Sarah, then the run ins with Eli, next Pappy was in a coma, and finally the blow up with Mom. He went to bed over five hours ago, and just lay there replaying the events of the last couple of days. It was driving him crazy, he had to find that trunk!

  The house had been quiet since he heard Mom go to bed around eleven o’clock. Trip tiptoed down the hallway as lightly as he could. He paused as a floorboard shifted under his weight. With the house as quiet as it was, the tiny little creak sounded like a gunshot. When he was sure the house was still silent, he continued.

  A door down the hallway swung open slowly. His heart pounded so hard in his chest that it sounded like a drum. He ducked behind a piece of furniture for cover, and nearly sent a vase crashing to the floor. He risked a peek down the hallway and saw the cat saunter through the door. He took a deep breath and let his pulse return to normal.

  At the attic entry, he carefully pulled down the rusted ladder. When he finally got it down, he took one last look around and climbed into the attic.

  With a click, Trip pulled the string to turn on the single naked bulb. Feebly, light tried to reach across the attic, but there seemed to be more shadows than illumination. It was spooky up here at night with all these old dusty piles.
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  Trip dug through the old junk. He pulled blankets off musty furniture, looked in the drawers and cabinets. Yellowing books were stacked in moldy cardboard boxes. He pulled one blanket away to reveal a mirror, which nearly scared him to death when he saw his own reflection.

  He searched nearly everything, and was ready to give up for the night when his foot nudged against something. It was subtle, but the floor was definitely uneven under a faded old throw rug. He removed it, dust clouds flying through the air. Trip nearly choked, and he found it difficult to suppress a cough.

  He pushed on the floor and found few loose floorboards that he easily removed. And there, in the hidden compartment under the floorboards, he saw it. A dusty old wooden trunk.

  It was smaller than he imagined; only about the size of a toaster oven, but it was masterfully crafted with a circular wooden inlay. Around the edge of the circle were some mysterious symbols designed from a darker wood. Right in the middle of the trunk was a solid lock that securely guarded the trunk’s secrets.

  Trip looked around excitedly for something to force the lock open, but he just could not seem to find anything useful. This was a problem he could work out tomorrow. He had found the trunk.

  He clicked off the light, carefully climbed back down the ladder into the hallway, and closed the attic entry. As he turned, he ran face first into Mom. Busted!

  CHAPTER 7

  Trip had a hard time figuring out what was going on as they sat at the kitchen table. He had lied to Mom and snuck into the attic, yet Mom did not seem angry at all. She seemed defeated, yet resigned. This just did not make sense. Trip was waiting for her to lower the hatchet.

  “I shouldn't have treated you that way. It's not fair,” began Mom. “You're a good kid and you're mature enough and smart enough to make your own decisions.”

  “Thanks Mom,” Trip replied. Still not sure what was going on.

  “Well, if you’re going to get into that trunk, you’re going to need this,” said Mom quietly as she held up an ancient iron key.

  Trip couldn’t believe what was happening. Was Mom actually handing him the key that unlocked the trunk? And more importantly, was she giving him permission to do it?

  “Is that what I think it is?” Trip asked.

  “I guess so,” replied Mom. “Your Pappy gave it to me when he moved into the retirement home. He said I'd know the right time to give it to you.”

  “And that time is now?” asked Trip, mesmerized.

  “And that time is now,” Mom agreed. “He said you’d need it for the quest. So have at it.”

  “A quest?” asked Trip, surprised. “You know more than you’re telling me, don’t you?”

  Mom was very matter of fact. “All I know is, if you want to waste countless hours chasing down some dream, have at it. But you’re not getting any help from me. This is between you and Pappy.”

  She handed the key to Trip. Trip reached out, a bit hesitantly and took the key.

  “Thanks, Mom. For the key, and for trusting me.”

  “Just don't let me see your schoolwork slipping,” said Mom. “Any sign of trouble and I'm locking you in your room until you’re thirty. You got that?”

  Trip was ecstatic, “I promise, Mom! My schoolwork comes first. You’ll have no trouble at all from me.”

  “I’m serious, Trip,” said Mom. “If your grades slip at all, this is over. I’ve seen this quest ruin lives, and I’m not letting it ruin yours.”

  With that, Mom walked out, leaving Trip alone with the trunk. Trip slowly looked at the key, and then at the trunk. Mom had called it a quest. What kind of quest could be waiting inside that trunk? Trip wondered if he would be up to the challenge. There was only one way to find out.

  He gingerly fit the key into the lock and slowly turned it. It creaked, then clicked. Trip rested his hands gently on the lid of the trunk and took a deep breath. His palms were starting to sweat. As he slowly lifted the lid, the old hinges squeaked loudly for the first time in years. He peered inside.

  Trip was disappointed. There wasn’t really much in the trunk. Resting on top were about fifteen old photographs. Some of them Trip recognized as family members, others as places around town. And the others did not mean a thing to him.

  There were also a few old newspaper articles from the local paper. Trip skimmed the headlines searching for a common theme, but there was none. Sitting in the bottom of the trunk was a cast iron plate with small jewels in it. Trip noticed a few small pieces had broken off and been glued back in place.

  Trip ran his finger over one of the glued stones and wondered if this was the piece of jewel-encrusted iron from Pappy’s story on the beach. Was this the little piece that started this whole quest?

  And then Trip pulled out the final, and most interesting item that was hidden away in the corner of Pappy’s trunk. He held it delicately in his hands; afraid he might damage it. It was an old tattered book with the hand written title, The Quest for Gasparilla’s Treasure.

  CHAPTER 8

  The following morning as Trip arrived at school, he heard the familiar voice that made his stomach churn.

  Eli spoke up so everyone could hear, “Hello, Francis. I trust you have brought me my money today.”

  Trip had hoped he could avoid Eli today, but was not surprised that Eli found him. After yesterday’s fight, it was certain Eli would make an example out of him.

  When Trip looked at Eli, he imagined him hugging and kissing Sarah. The thought made it difficult to keep breakfast from coming up. He wished Josh had kept his mouth shut about Eli and Sarah. If it had been anyone else that told him, he would have thought it was a lie. But Josh always told him the truth, and he never gossiped. He just told it how it was.

  “Did you hear me, Francis?” barked Eli. “I want my money. Now!”

  “Oh, you’re using Francis now. I think I liked Twit better.”

  “Do you have my money, or do you want your beating? TWIT! Your choice, not mine.”

  Trip stayed calm. “I guess I was wrong. I don’t like Twit either. Try saying Trip. It's easy. You'll like it… Trip.”

  A crowd gathered, and Eli motioned for his Goons to grab Trip.

  Trip spoke up for everyone to hear. “What’s the matter, Eli? You scared to fight fair? Need your goons to help you, I guess. Why don't you just let me go, and we can all just get on with our day.”

  Eli’s nostrils flared, and his face turned bright red. Trip was pretty sure it was a bad idea to get Eli worked up like this, but from now on, this game was going to be played by Trip’s rules.

  “No one goes anywhere, until I get my money!” commanded Eli.

  “Well, you just need to give up that idea, because it's just not going to happen,” Trip stated calmly.

  Eli addressed the crowd. “Now everyone pay close attention to what happens if you don't keep up with your payments.”

  Eli took every bit of rage and hate he was feeling toward Trip and reared back. He put everything he had into a full on punch, hard, in Trip’s stomach. There was a loud thud, and the sound of cracking bones. It was Eli’s hand. Eli let out a blood-curdling scream of pain.

  Trip pulled the cast iron plate from under his shirt, the one from the trunk, and held it up, silently thanking Pappy.

  “Oh, sorry about that. I found this thing in my attic last night and I though I'd bring it to show in class,” Trip said in his calmest voice. “Take a look, it’s really quite interesting.”

  “You must have a death wish,” hissed Eli. “Get him!”

  Two goons grabbed Trip, and one immediately punched Trip in the stomach. Then another goon took a turn. Trip gasped for air as he went down on his knees.

  “You think you’re funny, Twit? This is how you amuse yourself?” snarled Eli.

  Trip had never seen Eli like this. He was intense and focused. He was no longer performing for the crowd. This was personal.

  “Well, you don’t know the meaning of pain,” continued Eli as he grabbed the cast iron plat
e. “You look like you enjoyed using this plate to hurt me. Well, now we’re gonna see what kind of job this little plate can do on your face!”

  This was bad! This was really bad. Trip could barely breathe from the blows to the stomach, and Eli’s goons had a death grip on him. They knew if they let Trip out of this, Eli would kill them. Trip’s mind was racing, but there was no way out. Eli was going to bash his face in with the cast iron plate. And he probably would not stop there. The beating was sure to continue.

  Eli confirmed Trip’s suspicion. “And the pain won’t stop. You made a huge mistake here today. One you will regret for the rest of your…”

  “ENOUGH!” A voice boomed across the schoolyard. “You boys stop this at once!”

  It was Mr. Hanson. Trip was surprised to hear such command and authority come from his mouth. Mr. Hanson was the history teacher, and normally spoke in the most mind-numbing, monotonous voice imaginable, but now he sounded like an angry drill sergeant.

  The schoolyard was silent, and no one moved a muscle. Mr. Hanson waved his ever-present yardstick at Eli, and then at Trip. The command and authority he wielded just moments ago was quickly fading. By the time he spoke again, it was in the mind-numbing way that everyone was used to.

  “You students need to break this up and get back to class,” he droned. “Oh, and what is this?”

  He took the plate out of Eli’s hand.

  “I think I will be taking this into my classroom for safe keeping. Yes, extremely interesting,” he mused, turning his full attention to the plate.

  “But Mr. Hanson, that’s mine!” Trip pleaded. “I need that!”

  “You two have proven this can be used as a weapon,” said Mr. Hanson. “There is no place for a weapon at our school.”

  Mr. Hanson waved his yardstick in their faces. The yardstick was so close to Trip’s face, he worried he might lose an eye.

  Mr. Hanson continued, “I’ll be watching you both very closely. If I see either of you boys doing anything that even looks suspicious, you'll be in detention with me for the rest of the year. Now get to class before I…”