“Yeah,” said Kojo sarcastically. “It’s almost like that.”
“We think the shirts are a little too splashy,” said Grace. “Too showy. We don’t want to look conceited when we win.”
“No, I suppose not. Tell me, Jake, have the authorities apprehended this Monsieur Eriq LeVisqueux fellow?”
“Not yet.”
“Good, good,” Mrs. Malvolio muttered to herself.
“Excuse me?” said Grace.
“I was just remarking that it’s good that you three look so good. Are you sure you still want to do the Quiz Bowl? I mean, after all you’ve been through. All your families have been through. Especially yours, Jake. Your poor mother.”
“She’s good,” said Jake. “We’re good.”
“My family’s super cool,” said Kojo. “They like how I can add ‘worked with the FBI’ on all my college applications.”
“My family is fine, too, Mrs. Malvolio,” said Grace. “In fact, my uncle Charley has never been better. He’s about to become something of a hero. Let’s just say that tomorrow mi tío hará que sus antepasados se sientan muy, muy orgullosos.”
“Right,” said Mrs. Malvolio, blinking some more. “Let’s just say that, shall we?”
She watched the three friends boldly stride out the exit. She could tell by their jiggling shoulders that they were snickering at her. Probably because they thought que no podía hablar español.
But she did. She hablaba español like nobody’s business.
So she knew the annoying little brats were going to go digging for Dog Breath’s booty that very night.
Because brainy little Grace had said that tomorrow “mi tío hará que sus antepasados se sientan muy, muy orgullosos.”
Meaning that tomorrow her uncle, Charley Lyons, the direct descendant of the Cubano cabin boy Eduardo Leones, was going to “make his ancestors very, very proud.”
The children were going down into the cave to retrieve her family’s treasure. She needed to alert her uncle Heath and his hired help, Eriq LeVisqueux.
She needed to alert them immediately.
The race was on!
Grace, Jake, and Kojo worked out an elaborate scheme for not being at their own homes on Tuesday night.
They each told their parents that they’d be spending the night with their teammates “so we can keep cramming for the Quiz Bowl up to the last second.”
Jake told his mom that he’d be at Kojo’s. Kojo told his folks he’d be at Jake’s. Grace told her mom and dad that everybody was bunking at Uncle Charley’s place because, since he was the vice principal, he had the keys they’d need if they had to go borrow books from the school library.
At precisely eleven p.m., they all reconvened in the unlit parking lot behind the school. Mr. Lyons had told them to wait for him at the cafeteria loading dock because he knew the security camera back there was broken. They wouldn’t have to worry about Mrs. Malvolio or Mr. Huxley seeing what they were up to.
The heavy metal service door slowly swung open.
“Grace?”
“Yeah, Uncle Charley. Jake and Kojo, too.”
“Good to see you guys,” he whispered. “Follow me. We have to take a circuitous route to my office. That way we can avoid all the cameras.”
Mr. Lyons led Jake, Grace, and Kojo on a serpentine path through the cafeteria and the corridors. In one hall, they had to zig and zag to opposite sides and sidle along the lockers to avoid the security cameras. Finally they made it into the old custodian’s closet, Mr. Lyons’s office.
“Help me push this aside,” he said, placing his hands on one edge of a stacked filing cabinet. Everybody found a spot to help shove.
“On three. One, two, three…”
They dug in their heels and drove the heavy thing sideways. When they did, they exposed a rusty metal door. There was an ancient school-bus-yellow sign with a black circle holding three equilateral yellow triangles. Below the circle were boldface yellow letters on a black background spelling FALLOUT SHELTER.
“This is the entrance,” said Mr. Lyons. “The path down to the double rock pillar chamber is simple. When you reach the four forks in the paths and crawl spaces and have to make a choice, remember: right, right, left, left.”
“Right, right, left, left,” said Jake.
“Right.”
“There’s a third right?” said Kojo.
“No,” said Grace. “Two rights, then two lefts.”
Mr. Lyons nodded. “Right.”
“So there is another right after the last left?” said Kojo.
“No,” said Grace. “It’s just right, right, left, left.”
“Correct,” said Jake before Mr. Lyons could say “right” again.
“Okay,” said Kojo. “Got it. Now explain that bit about ‘crawl spaces.’ ”
“The final approach to the treasure chamber,” said Mr. Lyons, “is a very tight squeeze. You will need to crawl.”
“Like on our bellies?”
“Exactly.”
“Quick question,” said Jake. “If the passageways are that confined and narrow, how did the cabin boy ever drag the pirate’s treasure down to the chamber in the first place?”
“Very slowly. Maybe one sack of gold or jewelry at a time.”
“Guess that’s how we’ll have to carry it out, too,” said Grace.
“Good thing the Quiz Bowl doesn’t start till nine o’clock in the morning,” cracked Kojo. “We’ve got, what? Ten whole hours to find the treasure, dig it up, and haul everything out.”
“Nine hours and forty-five minutes,” said Jake, glancing at his watch. “We’ve already burned through fifteen.”
“Then let’s go,” said Grace.
“Here,” said Mr. Lyons. “I brought these in from home. Two shovels and a pickax.”
Jake and Kojo arched their eyebrows.
“I like to garden on the weekends. You’ll need tools to dig up the treasure. This, too.” He handed Grace a tape measure, which she clipped to her jeans.
“You’re not coming with us?” she asked.
“Can’t. Bad back. I’d never make it through the crawl space. Here. You’ll need these, too.” He handed them flashlights. “I’ll stay up here and guard the entrance. After all, even though I’m the vice principal, I’m also the custodian.”
“A person who has responsibility for or looks after something,” said Jake.
“That’s right,” said Mr. Lyons. “And when you kids find the treasure, I will become the Last Custodian.”
“The Last Custodian,” said Kojo, framing the words dramatically in the air. “That sounds like a good title for a Star Wars movie. Come on, you guys. We’ve got some right-right, left-left turning and belly crawling to do!”
At first the going was pretty easy.
The cinder-block corridor was maybe four feet wide and eight feet tall. Lightbulbs inside wire cages lined the walls every ten feet. Ductwork and pipes were fastened to the ceiling.
“This must be the route to the old fallout shelter from the nineteen sixties,” said Grace.
“Makes sense,” said Jake, who was carrying the pickax. Kojo and Grace each had a shovel.
“You think there’s any, like, canned food in the shelter?” asked Kojo, his voice ringing off the walls. “Maybe some Spam or SpaghettiOs? Because I was so excited about sneaking out of the house tonight to go treasure hunting, I didn’t eat any dinner.”
“We don’t have time for a snack break,” said Grace as they entered a long, dimly lit cinder-block room. There were rusty cots holding the mouse-chewed remains of mattresses lined up against one long wall. Metal barrels the size of oil drums labeled SURVIVAL SUPPLIES DRINKING WATER were stacked in a corner. There were also moldy cardboard crates filled with cans of something called BISCUIT, SURVIVAL, ALL-PURPOSE.
“We have a choice up ahead,” said Grace, pointing to the far end of the shelter. “Two doors.”
“Two exits,” said Jake.
“We take the one on the right,” said Kojo. “Right?”
“Yes!” said Jake and Grace.
“Okay, that’s our first right, right?”
“Correct!” Jake and Grace said that together, too.
The team made it to the doorway on the right, which, of course, was closed. It took all three of them, and several grunts, to shove open the heavy metal panel. It screeched on its hinges the whole way.
On the other side, a new kind of passageway presented itself. This one seemed to be a natural crevice slicing through slick, smooth stone.
“No lights,” said Jake, flicking on his flashlight. “This is an actual cave.”
“I wish Uncle Charley had brought me down here years ago!” said Grace. “This cavern is awesome!”
The beam shuddered when Jake jumped because he heard a shrieking sound behind him.
Kojo was trying to push the thick door shut. He made it halfway.
“Leave it open,” said Grace. “We’ll be coming out this same way.”
“Okay,” said Kojo. “But my mother always gives me grief when I leave a door open. Especially if the air conditioner is running.”
They hiked down the much narrower passageway.
Water plinked. What sounded like bat wings fluttered. Jake swung up his flashlight and illuminated several tapering stone icicles suspended from the ceiling of the cave.
“Those are stalactites, formed of calcium salts deposited by dripping water. The ones jutting up from the floor are called stalagmites. One way to tell them apart is this simple mnemonic device—”
“Jake?” said Kojo before his friend could launch into explaining his memorization trick. “You’re doing it again.”
“Well, this mnemonic device is extremely clever.”
“Go on,” said Grace, rolling her eyes.
“A stalactite holds tight to the ceiling,” said Jake proudly. “A stalagmite might climb up to the ceiling someday.”
Grace and Kojo remained silent.
Finally, Kojo exploded. “That’s it?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“You think that’s clever? We’re in a cave, on a treacherous treasure hunt, and you—”
Kojo didn’t get to complete that thought.
Because, behind them, someone had just pushed open that screechy steel door.
Someone was following them.
Jake doused his flashlight, tucked it into his belt, and grabbed Grace’s right hand with his left.
She grabbed Kojo’s.
Jake used his right hand to feel along the cold stone wall and lead his friends to the fork in the path. He instantly knew that’s how to find the way through any simply connected maze: follow the right wall. It would also lead them to the next “right” they were supposed to make.
Behind them, he heard something clacking.
One of Mrs. Malvolio’s chunky necklaces!
“Are you absolutely sure this is the right way, Monsieur LeVisqueux?”
“Oui, Madame Malvolio. I have zee sixth sense for zees things. Eet is why you will be giving me ten percent of zee treasure when I find eet for vous.”
“Then hurry up,” growled Heath Huxley. “Those thieving little brats have a head start!”
Jake, Kojo, and Grace followed the cave path to the right. They slid up against the stone wall and froze.
“Up there, you see where zee passageway splits? We will, of course, take zee tunnel on…zee left.”
Jake breathed a silent sigh of relief and finally let go of Grace’s hand. He waited for the chattering voices of LeVisqueux, Huxley, and Malvolio to fade away. They were deep down the tunnel worming through the caverns in the opposite direction.
“They’re going the wrong way,” whispered Kojo.
“Let’s hope they knew about another entrance to the fallout shelter. Otherwise…”
“They could’ve hurt Uncle Charley!” said Grace.
“Exactly,” said Jake. “We should head back. Make sure he’s okay.”
“No,” said Grace. “He’d want us to claim the treasure first. It’s been his goal his whole life. But we need to move fast. We’ll find the treasure, record our discovery on video, and bring up one or two pieces to prove our claim. We can come back for the rest after we make sure Uncle Charley is okay and the treasure is officially declared ours.”
“How does that happen?” said Kojo.
“By invoking the ‘treasure trove’ notion of common law,” said Jake. “It refers to any property that is verifiably antiquated and has been concealed for so long that the owner is probably dead or unknown and certainly unlikely to demand that their goods be returned. In such an instance, ‘finders keepers’ would apply.”
“Okay,” said Kojo. “That kind of brainy brain fart I like. Keep that kind comin’. Let’s go.”
The team made their way up the slick fissure.
“Another split, you guys,” said Grace.
“This time we go left,” said Kojo. “Right?”
“Correct!” said Grace and Jake. “Left.”
The arched passageway took them into another chamber.
There was smelly slime on the floor.
“Bat guano,” said Jake.
“What’s guano?” asked Kojo.
“A fancy word for ‘poop,’ ” said Grace.
“Gross, man,” said Kojo, trying to high-step his way across the floor to avoid the sticky puddles of brown bat doo.
“As a manure,” Jake started, “bat guano is an extremely effective fertilizer, thanks to its exceptionally high levels of nitrogen, phosphate, and—”
“Jake?” This time it was Grace who cut him off. “Nobody wants to know that right now.”
“Sorry. My bad.”
“Where are all the bats?” asked Kojo, swinging his flashlight beam up to the ceiling.
“It’s night,” said Jake. “Bats go to work at night. They ‘see’ in the dark using a special skill called echolocation. It’s a little like sonar in that—”
“Jake?!” Kojo and Grace said it together.
“Sorry. Something about the adrenaline associated with this treasure hunt has shifted my brain into hyperdrive.”
“Try to save it until we need it,” urged Grace. “There. Another split. Two holes. See them?”
“Where?” said Kojo, swinging his flashlight back and forth.
“Aim lower,” said Grace, spotlighting the pair of tunnels with her dusty beam.
“Welcome to the crawl space,” said Kojo, shaking his head.
“We take the one on the left,” said Jake.
“And,” added Kojo, “we crawl on our bellies.”
The crawl space was tight, with a slanted ceiling covered with tiny saw-toothed stalactites.
Jake had to drag the heavy pickax behind him. Crawling with the thing was like trying to swim while tugging an anchor.
“It opens up,” reported Grace, who had taken the lead for the belly-sliding portion of the trek. She heaved her shovel forward with a clang. “I can see the room. It’s the treasure chamber! I can see one of the rock pillars.”
Jake and Kojo scooted faster, working their legs and arms to crawl forward as quickly as they could.
“I’m in!” called Grace, her voice echoing off the high ceiling of the treasure chamber. Kojo popped out second. Jake brought up the rear.
“Whoa.” The three of them stood in awe, swinging their flashlights across the
stalactite-dripping ceiling, admiring the vast cathedral of glittering stone they’d just entered.
The whole floor was covered with a sea of rubble.
“What’s up with the floor?” said Kojo.
“To bury treasure in a cave with a stone floor,” suggested Grace, “you’d have to chisel out a vault of stone. To hide that vault, you’d need to cover the floor with a carpet of pebbles.”
Jake knelt down and worked his hand through the small stones. “I’m up to my elbow and I haven’t even hit solid stone yet.”
“Eduardo Leones worked long and hard to hide his treasure,” said Grace with great admiration.
“There are the two rock pillars!” said Kojo. “Just like in the riddle!”
“And, of course, there’s no fire pit,” said Grace.
“Okay,” Kojo said to Jake, “now’s the time to fire up your brain, baby. We need a little extra-credit math work out of you ASAP.”
Jake examined the tower of stacked rocks on the right.
“Huh,” he said. “Some of these rocks have words chiseled into them. Spanish words.”
Kojo came over with his phone up. “I’m shooting video.”
“Don’t waste too much of your battery,” said Grace. “We really need to document the moment when we raise the treasure from its ancient hiding place to establish our claim.”
“Gotcha.” Kojo tapped the red dot to stop recording.
Meanwhile, Jake had started pulling the word stones out of the pile. He placed them on the cave floor.
“Um, shouldn’t you be doing some geometry or something?” said Kojo.
“In a minute. These word stones aren’t here by coincidence. They could be another clue.”
Jake lined the words up in a random order.
OTRO PUEDES SIEMPRE CAMINO ENCONTRAR
He started translating: “ ‘Other you can always way find.’ ”
“That makes absolutely no sense, Jake,” said Grace. “I know you just learned Spanish yesterday, but come on.” She hunkered down and quickly rearranged the stones to construct a different sentence.
SIEMPRE PUEDES ENCONTRAR OTRO CAMINO
The Smartest Kid in the Universe Page 15
