The Last Great Adventure of the PB & J Society

by Janet Sumner Johnson

  I stumbled backward, holding my bike for balance. My vision blurred with tears. I shook my head, struggling to speak. “Please, don’t do this.” I looked to my mom, silently begging her to fix this. She could fix anything.

  But my mom’s shoulders slumped.

  It was Dad who stepped up. “Ted.” He laid a hand on Mr. Parker’s shoulder. “Bianca. You remember what it was like as a kid. Surely you missed curfew once or twice.”

  For a second, Mr. Parker looked like he might cave, but then he shook his head. He put an arm around his wife. “It’s not the same world, Sam. They have to learn they can’t just disappear like that. If grounding them from each other is what it takes, so be it.”

  “Ted, please. We know Annie can be … impulsive, but she means well. She’s a good kid.” He smiled at me. “She’ll be devastated when you move. They both will.”

  I looked at Jason, wondering if that was still true.

  “Don’t take away their last few weeks together. Surely we can find another punishment.”

  Mr. Parker hesitated. I jumped in.

  “Please! I’ll do anything. Just don’t ground us from each other.” I held my breath, afraid that if I moved I’d bump his decision the wrong direction.

  Mr. Parker gave a curt nod. “Turkey pen needs cleaning. You two will make it shine like the Taj Mahal. Friday after school.”

  “The turkey pen?” My mouth went dry.

  I snuck a glance at Jason. He was watching me. I blushed because I could read his thoughts. He didn’t think I’d do it.

  I opened my mouth to prove otherwise, but visions of turkeys filled my head. Gobbling, and feathers, and sharp beaks pecking at me. I closed my mouth.

  Jason snorted. “It was nice knowing you, Annie.” He pushed his bike toward his home.

  And then I remembered. The turkeys would be gone by then. “No, wait! I’ll do it.”

  Jason froze. Then he turned and stared back at me.

  I nodded, thoughts racing. This was a sign — it had to be. We were meant to find the treasure. I looked Mr. Parker in the eye and held out my hand. “We’ll even bury the turkey droppings for you.”

  A grin blossomed on Jason’s face.

  Mr. Parker’s reaction wasn’t as nice. He stared at my hand but didn’t take it. “Fine. But I’m warning you both right now. Any more incidents like this or the nail, and you can say your goodbyes then. You’ll be grounded from each other until we move.”

  20

  I adjusted the black pirate cap on my head and pushed up the sleeves of the silky white shirt with the skull-and-crossbone buttons. “Arrgh! Does this be the place, matey?” I pointed to a spot next to the ditch, grinning at Mrs. Schuster who donned a thick velvet jacket and a hook in place of her hand.

  Jason flipped up his eye patch. “Do you think I could wear this to school?”

  “Maybe for Halloween.” If you’re still here, I thought, then kicked it away. Of course he would be. I mean, Monday had been ominous — Jason mad at me, then almost getting grounded again — but things had worked out perfectly. It’d be the same with the treasure.

  Today we’d mark the spot. Friday, tomorrow, we’d find the treasure. Everything would be fine.

  Mrs. Schuster sighed, then dug through the haggard pirate satchel slung over her shoulder. “I can’t believe I let you two talk me into this. I must be a bigger fool than I thought. And in pirate clothes no less. What must your parents think?”

  Despite her words, she smiled. I was glad we’d asked her to come and amazed she’d agreed to the pirate clothes.

  With Mr. Parker’s edict, we had one shot to uncover the treasure. We needed all the help we could get, and Mrs. Schuster knew the most about Black Marge. Jason still didn’t believe in it. But he would after we found it.

  Just that morning I’d begged Mrs. Schuster to show Jason and me the journal. Just show us. I didn’t even ask to touch it.

  “I can’t do that,” Mrs. Schuster had said. “The thing’s cursed. Only direct descendants of Marge can look without being turned into lawn gnomes.”

  Even I didn’t believe that story. But Mrs. Schuster did have a large number of gnomes in her backyard. So when she promised to look at the journal for clues and meet us at my house after school, I’d backed down.

  With one hand still in her satchel, Mrs. Schuster shook her head. “I can’t do this. I’m sorry, but there’s something I need to tell you two.”

  Jason and I froze, certain we were in trouble. Maybe Mr. Parker had hired Mrs. Schuster to spy on us. That might just solve the mystery in one fell swoop.

  “What is it?” I asked. “Is the costume too much for you? You don’t really have to wear one if you don’t want.” I hoped that’s what it was.

  Mrs. Schuster stared at me, her forehead scrunched into one big wrinkle. “No. It’s not that. See I … I mean … well … I don’t really know where to start. The one hundred steps, that is. This is all in good fun, right? You won’t hate me if we don’t find the treasure?”

  Jason smacked my arm and gave his know-it-all look.

  I’d have smacked him back but I didn’t want to push it after the whole blabbing-his-secret thing.

  Maybe I should have been worried by what Mrs. Schuster said. But I had a good feeling about this dig. Something big was coming. I could feel it.

  “Of course we won’t hate you.” I gave her a hug while Jason shook his head.

  “And you won’t forget to visit an old lady when this is all over?”

  I laughed. “Never.”

  With another sigh, she extracted a ball of string and a compass from her satchel. “As best I can reckon from the old maps I found, this was the border of the pear orchard. I suggest we walk the one hundred steps here. Jason, go get that boulder for us. That big one right there.”

  It was so heavy I had to help carry it.

  “Now Annie, tie some string around it.” She threw the string at me. “This is how we’ll make sure we walk in a straight line.”

  When the string was tied, Mrs. Schuster flipped open the compass. “Either one of you know how to use this thing?”

  The spindle bobbed this way and that, finally settling on a direction. “It points north. I think.” I’d seen Matt play with his compass, but he’d never let me touch it.

  Jason grinned. “I got my orienteering badge last year. I’m pretty good, too.”

  Mrs. Schuster pressed it into his palm. “Remind me to bequeath this to you before I die. It could use a good home.”

  “Thank you!” Jason beamed. I could practically see the rays of light shooting from his head. I tried not to feel jealous.

  “Now, steer us north, Mr. Navigator. Annie, you hold the string and count.”

  I wanted to complain. Navigating sounded a lot cooler than holding the string, not to mention getting the compass. But I bit my tongue. I didn’t want Mrs. Schuster to think I was a whiner.

  Plus, Jason was happy. I didn’t want to mess that up. What with the daily whispering and teasing at school, I kept expecting Jason to blow up at me again. But so far he hadn’t. I wanted to keep it that way.

  I concentrated on stepping evenly. “One … two …”

  At fifty steps out, Mrs. Schuster gasped and clutched her left arm.

  “Are you all right?” I dropped the string and put my arm around her. As if I could support her or something.

  Her breaths came ragged, her face scrunched with pain. Jason was a Cub Scout. That meant he knew first aid, right? But Jason just stared.

  Several seconds passed and Mrs. Schuster stood up straight, breathing heavily. “It’s our archenemy, Pirate Blue-Beard and his gang! An arrow skimmed my arm. I thought I was a goner.”

  Man was I relieved. I almost started laughing. Mrs. Schuster was good. I’d really thought she was hurt.

  “Arrgh!” I pulle
d an imaginary sword from my belt and whirled to face the invisible foes. “I can take them! Go on without me. I’ll catch up.”

  Jason jumped in next to me, sword at the ready. “And leave all the fun for you?”

  Together we battled our enemies, striking and blocking with style. Nothing and no one stood a chance next to Captain Annie and First Mate Jason.

  Mrs. Schuster protected our supplies and pointed out new foes as they arrived. When we’d finally vanquished the enemy, she applauded. “Bravo, me hearties! Excellent work. Black Marge would be proud.”

  Why couldn’t all adults be this fun?

  Wiping at my sweaty forehead, I picked up the abandoned ball of string and we counted the steps till we hit the fence. Mrs. Schuster and I waited while Jason ran home to complete the count in his yard.

  I noticed Mrs. Schuster still rubbed her left arm, but she couldn’t fool me. Not a second time. In my mind, I imagined our next foes, the pirate ghosts, come to reclaim their treasure. I was just about to invent a weapon to kill ghosts when a turkey pecked at the fence. I hopped back, suddenly feeling sick. They were supposed to be gone. Jason had said his dad was selling them this week.

  I squeezed my hands into fists to stop them from shaking. They’ll be gone by tomorrow, I told myself.

  But what if they weren’t?

  Thank heavens for Mrs. Schuster’s fidgeting. It gave me something else to think about.

  She took several steps toward her house, then shuffled back and peered over the fence. “That boy is sure taking his time.” She wrung her hands and headed for the ditch. “You know it’s just a guess, right?”

  “We know,” I said. “You’ve reminded us a bajillion times. We promise not to blame you if it’s not there.” I almost offered to PB&J-shake on it before I remembered she didn’t know about the Society. It just seemed like she should be a member.

  “Okay,” Mrs. Schuster rubbed her nose. “I just don’t think I could bear it if you two were mad at me.”

  It was weird. For a second she looked like a regular old grandma, all stooped and trembling. She reminded me of my grandpa just before he died. I offered my hand and she took it. “We could never be mad at you.” I held on till the trembling slowed.

  Mrs. Schuster nodded. She looked like she was going to cry. Adults weren’t supposed to do that. I looked away, until Jason called out from his yard.

  I ran to the fence and pushed the string through. Jason walked the last five steps, then Mrs. Schuster gave her approval. With a funny old mallet, Jason pounded several pebbles into the dirt. I prayed they would stay put.

  One more day. Then everything would be back to normal.

  21

  When Friday finally came, we were as ready as we’d ever be. I even whistled on the way home from the bus. Sure, there was a chance we wouldn’t find the treasure, but I had a good feeling about it.

  Everything was coming together, and it couldn’t all be coincidence. Yes sir, we were meant to find this treasure. Then Jason could stay and his dad would be nice again. Life would be back to normal, and I wouldn’t have to …

  “We shouldn’t dig for the treasure,” Jason blurted.

  I stopped in my tracks. “We can’t quit now. We’re this close.” I pinched my fingers together.

  Jason shuffled his feet and squinted at me. “The thing is, it’s been a good week. Dressing up like pirates. Fighting off enemies. Just like we used to. And my dad’s been more like himself, too. He even played board games with Mom and me last night. He smiled. He laughed, Annie. I can’t remember the last time he did that. The treasure hunt’s been fun, but we both know it’s not real. It’s time to stop. Leave well enough alone.”

  I frowned. “It is real. And what do you mean by ‘well enough’? If we don’t find the treasure, you have to move. That’s not ‘well enough’ to me.”

  “Annie, you heard her yesterday. Even Mrs. Schuster doesn’t think we’ll find the treasure. She looked guiltier than you did when your mom caught you trying to sell your kidney.”

  “That didn’t mean anything! She just doesn’t want us to be disappointed. That’s all.”

  Jason’s shoulders slumped. Without a word, he hefted his backpack higher and marched toward his house.

  A horrible thought struck. I chased after him. “Do you … want to move?”

  Jason turned on me. “Of course I don’t! But even if by some miracle the treasure does exist, Mrs. Schuster has no clue where it’s buried. So we’ll dig a hole, find nothing, and then be grounded for life. It’s not worth it.”

  I relaxed. Jason always worried too much about getting in trouble. I could deal with that. “Your dad said we could dig a hole. Remember? If there’s no treasure, we’ll fill the hole back up. With manure, like we promised. How can we possibly get in trouble for that? We have to try. No regrets, right? It’ll work out. I have a good feeling about it.”

  “That’s what has me worried,” Jason mumbled.

  At his house, Jason’s mom ushered us into the front room, where Jason’s dad sat reading the newspaper. I had to admire her. Despite all their problems, Mrs. Parker still looked amazing. Today she wore a creamy silk button-up with a sleek gray pencil skirt. No jewelry, but it didn’t matter.

  It struck me that I hadn’t seen her dressed up for a while. She’d been in jeans on Monday, but I’d been too afraid of getting grounded from Jason to notice.

  She waved us in. “I’ll be in the bedroom if you need me, dear.”

  “Okay, Mom.” Jason gave her a kiss on the cheek.

  Mr. Parker didn’t even look up. “Tools are in the garage. Don’t break anything.”

  “Come on.” Jason headed to the back door. “I’ll get the rakes … and shovels. Meet me on the porch.” He cut through the kitchen to the garage.

  Though we had a disgusting job to do, I shivered with excitement. If we found the treasure, everything would be different. Better.

  I skipped outside and nearly puked then and there.

  Turkeys.

  Strutting in the pen.

  Pecking at the ground.

  Gobbling like they had a right to be there.

  They were supposed to be gone.

  I stood frozen in place. I didn’t even notice Jason until he shoved a rake at me.

  “You okay?”

  I glared at him. “You said the turkeys would be gone!”

  Jason stepped back. “I did not. We never even talked about turkeys!”

  “Last Saturday? On my back porch, eating popsicles? You said your dad was selling them this week.”

  “He is. Tomorrow. That’s why he wants us to clean the pen. So he can get a good price. I — I thought you knew.” His eyes flicked to the back door. “I thought you agreed to do it anyway. For me.”

  I swallowed. “I did. But I …”

  His shoulders slumped. “I see.”

  I gripped the deck railing and stared at the wretched, strutting beasts. I’d promised Mr. Parker. Begged for this punishment. And Society members keep their word. But how to make my legs move toward the turkeys when all I wanted to do was run?

  Without another word, Jason laid down the extra rake and shovel. He trudged down the porch steps and headed for the pen. Alone.

  My hands trembled. My chest burned, and I struggled to breathe.

  I thought of Black Marge facing down Leonard the Lout. Jason riding to the bank when he didn’t want to. The look on Jason’s face when I said I’d clean the turkey pen to save our friendship.

  “Jason, wait!” Before I could change my mind, I grabbed the tools and ran to catch up. “I’m sorry. I said I’d do it, and I will.”

  His mouth dropped open. “Really?”

  I nodded.

  We tramped to the turkey pen and Jason unlatched the gate. He paused. “Hey! I could lock them in their house. Would that help?�
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  I took in the rickety old shed they called a turkey house. It looked like it might fall down any time. But it was better than nothing. “That’d be great.”

  He slipped into the pen and herded the beasts using his fan-shaped rake. When the last one was in the house, he slammed the door and locked it from the outside.

  Sweat trickled down my back, though the weather was cool. I can do this, I told myself. I can do this. I felt like the little engine that could.

  I pushed open the gate and shuddered at the little white and green piles all over the ground. They were mushed in turkey claw prints, or smeared in the shape of a shoe. I took a deep breath, plugged my nose, and walked in.

  Jason had already started raking. “I’ll work here by the turkey house and manure pile. You can start by the tree.” He pointed to the far side of the pen. “There are fewer droppings over there.”

  I nodded and was about to say “thanks” when I noticed the big green pile of sludge behind Jason. “Is that all poop?”

  Jason laughed. “It’s called manure. Grass clippings mixed with poop.”

  “Oh.” Just the sight of it made my eyes water, not to mention the burning stench that suddenly struck. Doggie doo-doo times ten. I wished I’d brought a nose plug.

  Grateful I’d be as far from it all as possible, I tip-toed around the piles and began work in my assigned quadrant.

  It went quickly, but the indignity of it grated on my nerves with each stroke. Cap’n Black Marge would never be reduced to the poop galley. I imagined myself as the captain and grinned wickedly as I passed the job on to Mr. Parker.

  “Arrgh! You can scrub the poop deck or walk the plank,” Cap’n Annie said.

  First Mate Jason passed his dad a mop. “And no lollygaggin’, yeh scallywag, or you can forget about yer ration of protein paste!”

  I was so involved with my daydream, I never saw it coming.

  Gobble, gobble!

  A flurry of feathers landed on my shoulder. I screamed as claws dug into my skin. I slapped at the bird to get it off, but the beast clung tighter, squawking and flapping with more energy. Feathered wings smacked me in the face. A beak pecked at my ear.