A Boy Called Duct Tape (19 page)

“Magic Rock,” Blood mumbled, examining the map. “We’re close to the treasure. Real Close. We go off down this here tunnel.” Blood pointed his flashlight beam down the narrow tunnel before us.

We started down the tunnel when Blood ordered us to stop. “Hold your horses for a spell.” The map hanging from his hand, Blood stood motionless for the longest time, his flashlight drifting back and forth over the four of us.

I had a sick feeling.

“Remember the deal we made, Blood,” I said.

“Shut your trap! Need to think!”

“So think,” Monroe challenged.

A light breeze drifted through the chamber, brushing our faces and playing a little tune as it passed over the uneven surface of the Magic Rock.

“Okay,” Blood said after a few more moments of deep thought. “This here’s the plan. We’re all going to this here place on the map called the Ca—” His light fell on the map and he tried the word again. “The Cathy …”

“The
Cathedral
,” I said. “It’s like a church. You should visit one some time.”

“Shut your trap!”

“Yes sir re-bob!” Earl Blood crowed as he marched us down the tunnel at gunpoint. We were headed toward a place on the map called the Cathedral. An X on the map promised that the Jesse James treasure would be found there.

“First thing I’m gonna do is go out and buy me a brand new Ford 350 pickup—a big yeller one,” Blood bragged.

“Yellow. That cowardly color seems to fit you,” Kiki scoffed.

“Says you!” Blood snorted. “Darn near got eaten by a bear. Took three shots, but I sure enough got him. Then me and Burl had to jump that thar pit. That weren’t so easy. Fact is, Burl ain’t such a good jumper. He didn’t make it, bless his id-jut soul. Screamed all the way to the bottom of that black hole.”

“Yeah, we heard,” I said, recalling Burl’s shrieks of terror that had echoed throughout the cave the day before.

We pressed forward.

“Tell me something, Blood, how did you manage to avoid the flood?” Monroe asked, his flashlight pushing aside the darkness ahead.

“I climbed me a wall, that’s how,” Blood said from the back of the line. “So the way I got it figured, I got as much right to that thar treasure as anyone. I done worked for it—I done paid my dues.”

“Your gift for logic overwhelms me,” Monroe mocked.

“Says you!”

We hiked on, our ragged shadows following us step for step along the uneven stone walls.

“If I didn’t need ya,” Blood said after awhile, “I’d leave the mess of ya right here.”

“Why do you need us?” Pia asked, glancing back at Blood.

In a taunting voice, Blood said, “Why do you need us?” Then, in his regular voice, he said, “’Cause you’ll make great pack mules, that’s why.”

We continued on in silence.

“Didn’t hear nothing,” Blood said. “Everybody done lost their gift for gab? Or maybe ya don’t like what it is I got planned?” He gave a shout of laughter, but there was little humor in it.

“We like it fine,” I agreed.

A soft puff of air murmured up the canal, which now curved to the left at a gentle incline. The floor was strewn with rocky slabs that had pulled loose from the ceiling over the years, and everyone walked over and around the jagged rocks.

“That thar gold and silver must be stacked ten feet high,” Blood said, his voice overflowing with joy. “They been talking about that treasure for years. Never believed them stories til ya kids brought that thar gold coin into my store.” He lowered his head as we passed under a section of the tunnel ceiling that was clustered with knobby flowstone. “All that gold and silver, and I’ll need help packing it out.” Blood uttered a short, revolting snort that was quickly lost in the darkness.

We trudged down the rocky walkway that twisted deeper and deeper into Bear Mountain.

My brain was buzzing wildly. I wondered what Blood would do to us if there wasn’t any treasure? Or what if the treasure was so small that Blood could carry it out himself? I ran half a dozen plots through my mind, but they all led to one terrible conclusion
: Sooner or later Earl Blood is going to kill us.

From a distance, we heard rushing water.

My brain relayed the warning instantly:
Another flashflood!

We all turned and looked behind us, but the tunnel was black and empty.

We pressed forward, the sound of rushing water growing louder, and when the passageway made a long, slow decline to the right, opening up, we were there—the Cathedral. The sound we heard was not that of a flood, but of a fast-moving river that ran through the huge domed gallery.

“Ohmigosh,” Pia said in a small voice, looking around, eyes wide.

We stood at the entrance to the Cathedral, overwhelmed by its size, the beams from our flashlights bringing the huge cavern to life. The ceiling was so high in places that our bright shafts of light were swallowed up by the darkness.

“The Holy Grail of caves,” Monroe said in a choked voice, stunned by what he saw.

Decorated with stalactites, stalagmites, pillars and complex flowstone formations, the Cathedral looked more like a futuristic city than a cavern in the middle of the Ozark Mountains. A natural rock bridge arced above the noisy river. The place was weirdly beautiful.

We entered the great room.

“How big do you think it is, Monroe?” I asked.

“A single chamber in Carlsbad Cavern is three-quarters of a mile long,” Monroe said, soaking it up. “This baby could be that big or bigger.”

“Pablo, look at those stalactites,” Kiki said at my elbow, her flashlight brightening parts of the high ceiling.

“They must be 30 feet long,” I said. The spear-like teeth hung above us like some sort of lethal contraption ready to fall at any moment.

“Awesome!” Pia gushed.

“Yeah, it’s real pretty,” Earl snarled. “Now git to looking for that thar treasure.”

“You don’t have to look,” I said.

“What ya mean, kid?”

“I mean we’ve already found it.” I directed my flashlight beam across the river.

There, sitting on the cavern floor, not far from the arched stone bridge, was a dark hump. All our lights focused on the shadowy object.

“How ya know that thar’s the treasure?” Blood said.

“What else could it be?” I asked.

“Could be a big rock,” Blood surmised.

“It’s no rock,” Monroe said.

Everyone studied the dark hump.

“Is it what I think it is, Pablo?” Kiki asked.

“A trunk of some sort,” I said, squinting in the dim light. I had to fight the urge to jump up and down with joy, and to scream until my throat gave out.

“Can’t tell for sure,” Kiki said, “but it looks like an old steamer trunk.”

“What’s a steamer trunk?” Pia asked.

“Rich people packed their clothes in them on steamship voyages back in the 19th century,” Kiki said. “But I can’t tell for sure this far away.”

“Monroe, do you think that bridge will hold us?” I asked, giving it a wary look.

“I guess we’ll find out,” Monroe said, striding toward the bridge, the three of us following. Blood lagged behind.

When we reached the stone bridge we stopped. The bridge arched 10 feet above the river. It almost looked manmade.

“Let’s take it one by one,” Monroe suggested, and one by one we cautiously crossed the bridge and hurried over to the old trunk.

“It
is
a steamer trunk,” Kiki confirmed, her light outlining it.

Covered in tin and engraved with the shapes of flowers, the trunk appeared in good condition, considering how old it must be. The lid was held shut by a rusty metal clasp.

No one made a move to open the trunk. We simply stared at it.

There
is
a treasure! I knew it!
My body quivered with anticipation.

Even Blood seemed numbed by the discovery. But finally he said, “Open it!”

But no one moved.

“Go ahead, Pablo,” Monroe said after a few more anxious moments. “Try your luck.”

I stepped forward, the beam from my flashlight fixed on the clasp. I hesitated, a hundred thoughts taking shape inside my head. What if the trunk was empty? What if there was no gold and the map was all just a hoax? I could almost hear Jesse James and his gang laughing from their graves. Blood would make quick work of us if the steamer trunk was empty.

“Go ahead, kid!” Blood ordered. “Open it!”

There was a painful tightness in my chest, and I could hear my father speaking to me: “Only a fool pretends to know tomorrow.”

“Open it!” Blood barked, making a gesture with the barrel of his rifle. “NOW!”

His word ricocheted through the Cathedral, but still I couldn’t move.

“I’ll … I’ll open it,” Kiki said, her voice fluttering.

“Then go ahead and do it, little gal,” Blood said. “And be quick about it.”

Kiki stepped in beside me and put her hand on the clasp. Then she pulled her hand back, laughed nervously, and let out a long, heavy sigh. “This is tougher than I thought.”

Her expression crumbling, Kiki looked at me. She shook her head and shrugged. “I can’t ….”

In a quiet voice, I turned and looked at my sister. “Pia, open the trunk.”

Kiki stepped back and Pia hurried over to the trunk. She tried to release the metal clasp, but it was rusted shut. Her light swung around to me. “It won’t open, Pablo. It’s stuck.”

Monroe slipped out of his backpacks and laid them on the cavern floor.

“What ya doing?” Blood asked, aiming his flashlight on Monroe.

“The clasp is bound with rust,” Monroe said.

“Yeah, so?”

“So I’m going to break the clasp free of the rust.”

Removing his rock hammer from his equipment pack, Monroe stepped over to the trunk and gave the clasp a heavy thump. Rust sprinkled down from the clasp.

“Try it now, Pia,” Monroe encouraged.

Pia tried the clasp again, but it was still rusted tight, and Monroe gave it another smack, firmer this time, and then stepped back.

Pia’s fingers went to work and the clasp flew open with a loud
snap!

No one spoke or moved or batted an eyelash. The only sound was the gurgle of the river.

“Raise the lid, Pia,” I said, my body trembling with a mixture of fear and happiness.

Stooping, Pia placed the palms of her hands under the edge of the lid, and then pushed upward. The lid opened with an unsettling
creak
, and Pia peeked inside.

“Ohmigosh!”

What Pia saw—and what we all saw as we crowded around—was the inside of an old tin-engraved steamer trunk that was filled to overflowing with decaying canvas bags. Each bag was stenciled with a different name: KANSAS CITY SOUTHERN RAILROAD, WELLS FARGO STAGECOACH, UNITED STATES GOVERNMENT.

Some of the drawstrings on the canvas bags had rotted and hundreds of gold and silver coins had spilled out inside the old trunk—it was filled to the brim with treasure.

I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

“If I’m dreaming,” Kiki said, her husky voice dropping to a whisper, “don’t you dare wake me up.”

Pia pushed the lid back on its hinges, where it rested.

I finally found my voice. “It’s no dream, Kiki.”

A burlap sack filled with jewelry lay in one corner of the trunk. I removed the sack and peeked inside. It contained dozens of gold watches and gold wedding bands, bracelets made from dark red stones and necklaces from bottle-green gems, pearl earrings, and dozens of other pieces, including a ring with a crystal-clear stone as big as a walnut. Kiki held it up to the light.

“What is it?” Pia asked.

“Diamond ring,” Kiki said, looking stunned. “Maybe ten carats.”

“Put it back!” Blood growled. “Now!”

Kiki obeyed.

The old steamer trunk, its lid open wide in the shadowy darkness, took on the image of some sort of cave-dwelling creature, mouth open, its gold and silver teeth sparking.

“Dear Mother Cave,” Monroe said, gazing down on the king’s ransom before him. “What secrets you have held for all these years.”

Blood had been standing a distance behind, peering over and around us. He moved closer. “Git back!” he commanded, slicing the air with his rifle. “Way back!”

We moved away from the trunk and Blood took one small step toward it, almost as if he expected a giant guard-snake to rise up from inside. His flashlight beam curved over the side of the chest, lighting up its precious cargo. Spears of gold and silver light bounced onto a cluster of stalactites overhead. Blood stepped closer to the old trunk.

For a moment, Blood stood frozen, his light glued on the treasure. He threw back his head and howled like a rabid dog. “I’m rich!”

His words echoed back at us.

I’m rich! I’m rich!

His eyes wide and shining with greed, Blood extended his arms over the open trunk like a mother bird spreading her wings over her nest. “Mine!”

“Fill ’em to the top,” Blood ordered, watching our every move and waving his rifle back and forth.

The contents of our backpacks had been dumped onto the cave floor beside the trunk, and Pia, Kiki, Monroe, and I had begun filling each pack with the treasure.

“Listen, Blood,” I said, “you don’t actually think my sister can carry one of these backpacks filled with gold and silver coins, do you? It’ll weigh at least 100 pounds.” I struggled to lift my backpack. It was half-full of coins. I raised it a few inches off the floor, and dropped it with a heavy
jangle
to make my point.

“In case you hadn’t notice,” Kiki said in that insulting tone she was so good at, “she’s a little girl.”

“More work and less talk,” Blood said, turning his head and spewing a watery stream of tobacco juice.

“It’s ten miles back to the cave entrance,” Monroe said, leveling a thick finger toward the tunnel leading out of the cavernous chamber. “The girl has a bad leg.”

Blood glared at Monroe, and then at me, a sick grin spreading across his bearded face. “Well, kid,” he told me, “I guess you’ll have to carry two backpacks—yours and the brat’s.”

“I’m no brat!” Pia protested.

Blood had sworn earlier that if the four of us helped him haul the treasure out of the cave he would spare our lives. “I ain’t no killer,” he had claimed.