by Gord Rollo
Kelly didn’t even have to think about what she would say. Of course she would agree not to touch the talisman. Anything that would calm Malcolm down and let him sleep easier while she was away. Miller’s Grove was his private nightmare, not hers, but if she could ease the burden on his shoulders and put a smile back on his wonderful wrinkled face, she’d have agreed to almost anything. “I promise, Gramps. And I’ll wear the ring too. Every second, okay?”
Malcolm nodded and gave his granddaughter a big hug. “Thanks for listening, angel. I know I’m a stupid old coot, but I’m just worried about you. Be careful. I don’t give a damn about the treasure…just come back to me, okay?”
“I will. We’ll have that coffee and I’ll let you know what we found.”
They hugged again and Malcolm walked back to the waiting taxi. Just before he climbed in the backseat, Kelly blew him a kiss and shouted out, “Hey, who dresses you in the morning anyway? You look pretty funky today.”
Malcolm laughed. “Oh well, what can you do? I was in a hurry. I’m going home and climbing back into my comfy jammies again…and there’s nothin’ you or anyone else can do about it. What do you think of that, smarty-pants?”
“Sounds good. Stay out of trouble till I get back.”
“I’ll try. See ya.”
With that he was gone, the cabdriver tooting the horn as they pulled away. Kelly wasn’t positive, but it looked to her like Malcolm was starting to cry as the taxi sped out of sight. She hoped that whatever reason he’d had for coming here this morning, he could at least find some inner peace that he’d been able to speak his mind and get it off his chest. Glancing down at the big silver and gold ring on her finger, she sighed and turned to face her friends. Everyone was silently watching her, even Pat’s new girlfriend, and Kelly realized they’d probably watched the entire exchange between her and her grandfather.
“Everything okay?” Dan asked.
“Yep. He just wanted to wish us luck. Can we get the hell out of here now?”
The gang of friends cheered and everyone headed for the cars. It was a good thing Pat had brought his dad’s Malibu because there wasn’t a chance they’d all fit into Rich’s Taurus. At least now they could shuffle some of the camping gear over to the other car, and everyone could ride in comfort.
“Who’s riding with who?” Lizzy said, once they’d finished packing everything and were ready to roll.
“Dan and Kelly can come with Pat and I,” Kim said, slyly winking Dan’s way. “We’ve got more room in the back than Rich.”
Kelly was about to agree, but Dan jumped in ahead of her and said, “No thanks. I’ve got some stuff to talk to Rich about anyway. You know…business stuff, so we’ll just go with him and Liz, okay?”
“Sure,” Pat said. “We’re not going that far anyway. Give me the plan again.”
“Were heading south on 82 to Iowa City, then west on Interstate 80 headed for Des Moines.” It was Rich giving the directions and ticking off each turn on his fingers as he spoke. “About halfway there we’ll be cutting off at a town called Grinnell, then heading north to Rock Creek State Park. Simple, really. Just follow us. If you get lost, call Lizzy on the cell, okay?”
“No worries. Let’s get at it.”
A minute later, they were finally on the road.
Oak Valley, Iowa
October 2010
TREASURE HUNTING
Chapter Twelve
“For Christ’s sake; everyone shut the hell up!” Rich said, smiling in spite of his angry words. They’d been on the road for nearly two hours without stopping and were just stir-crazy enough that Kelly and Liz had thought it was a great idea to break into a seemingly endless version of “99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall.” Rich and Dan had actually been bored enough to join in for a while, but the four-part harmony hadn’t lasted long and as the girls made it down to forty-six bottles to go, Rich was getting ready to snap. “Enough already! Nobody actually likes that bloody song, you know? Jeesh!”
“We do,” Lizzy said. “You’re just being an old grump, as usual. What else are we supposed to do?”
“I don’t know. Nothing. We’re nearly there, I think.”
“Seriously?” Kelly said. She’d been having a great time so far, she and Dan laughing and getting along great, the four friends hardly missing a beat even though this was their first trip together in months. “Where are we?”
Dan was in charge of the map. He opened it on his lap and showed Kelly the road they were traveling on with his finger. “We’re right about here on Highway 6, north of Grinnell. Pretty soon, we should hit a little place called Oakland Acres near the south entrance to Rock Creek State Park.”
“We don’t want to go in the park though, right?”
“Nope. We’ll skirt around it and keep heading north. Looks like there are some logging roads up where we’re headed. We’ll drive as far as we can, then probably have to hump it the rest of the way.”
Rich laughed. “Sounds fun. Lizzy loves to hump…right, hon?”
“Wrong, Romeo.”
Kelly couldn’t help but laugh at Rich’s crude joke too, but her laughter died when she turned to look out the rear window. “Hold it. I think we lost Pat. I don’t see him back there, anyway.”
Everyone turned to look, Rich checking in the rearview mirror. He’d been keeping an eye on Pat’s car the whole trip as they zigged and zagged throughout the busier-than-expected Tuesday morning traffic, and so far he and his new girlfriend hadn’t had any problem staying glued to their rear end. Now the road was clear; no sign of the black Malibu or any other vehicles for that matter. “Shit! Where the heck did he go? I saw him back there a few minutes ago so he can’t be far.”
Liz’s cell phone began to ring.
“That’s probably him,” Lizzy said, reaching down by her feet to pull her phone out of her purse and look at the display. “Yep, it is!” She hit the receive button. “Hello?” She listened for a moment, frowning. “Are you kidding? Where? Okay…just a sec.” She spoke to Rich. “His car broke down. He says they’re only a few minutes behind us.”
“Shit,” Rich said. “Tell him we’ll spin around and be right there.”
“Pat? Rich says…oh, okay. See you soon.” Lizzy hung up. “He heard you.”
“Idiot!” Rich said, frustrated, but did a three-point turn on the empty road and was soon barreling down Highway 6 headed south. They found Pat’s Malibu parked on the shoulder about five miles back. Kim was leaning against the passenger door, soaking up some rays while Pat was poking around under the hood.
“There they are,” Lizzy said, stating the obvious.
Rich gave her a glare, turned the car around again, and pulled to a stop just behind them. Everyone got out of the car.
“What’s wrong?” Dan asked, heading for the front of the car.
“Hell if I know,” Pat said, wiping his dirty hands on the back of his jeans. “It just started chugging, then conked out on me. I don’t know squat about fixing cars.”
“What are you looking under the hood for then? Here, let me have a look.” Dan and Rich looked at the engine and checked some of the wires but neither of them could see anything that was obviously the problem. “Sure you’re not just out of gas?”
“I don’t think so. The gauge says we got half a tank still.”
“How much did you have to start?” Rich asked.
“Umm…well, about half a tank, I think.”
Rich and Dan looked at each other and sighed. Leave it to Pat to be so helpful and aware of everything.
“Jesus, Pat. Did you even look? Gas is kinda important in cars, ya know?”
“I looked. I already told you, I think it was half full.”
“And it’s still reading that. Your bloody gas gauge might be screwed.”
“Maybe. Dad didn’t say anything about it though. Hopefully that’s all it is, right? It’ll make for an easy fix. All we need is a can of gas and off we go.”
“Sure,” Dan said. “Bu
t do you see any gas stations around here? You should have filled up before you left, like Rich did.”
“Sorry, guys.” Pat glanced over and nodded toward Kim, who had her arms in the air, stretching beside the car, her full breasts pushed up high and prominently on display. “I had a few other things on my mind.”
“Yeah, I can see both of them,” Rich said, smirking.
“We need to push on into Oakland Acres,” Dan said. “Should only be ten minutes from here. We’ll grab some gas and come right back. Hopefully that’s all that’s wrong with it.”
“Okay. Kim and I’d better stay with my dad’s car.”
“Fine,” Dan said. “We’ll be back in half an hour.”
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Rich said with a wink.
“How about the Des Moines Demon?” Travis Skyler said, running his permanently oil-stained hands over his mane of short dark hair.
“Nah,” his twin brother Timothy immediately said. “Not bad, but we’re too far outside Des Moines to pull it off. People will think you’re retarded.”
“Don’t you mean, we’re retarded?”
“Nope. Just you. I’m the genius in the family, remember?”
“How could I forget? Especially with how many times you remind me. How about the Kellogg Killer?”
“Better, but Kellogg is too small of a town. No one except the locals has ever heard of Kellogg, Iowa. They’ll think you’re talking about the cereal company. Somebody will sue your ass.”
“Our ass!”
“Whatever…”
It was 11:00 A.M. on Tuesday morning and the twenty-five-year-old Skyler brothers were taking an early lunch break from the garage they worked at together. Their uncle Steve Carlton owned the place and it was good of him to take the twins on as his mechanical apprentices but being grease monkeys at the only car repair shop in the tiny backwoods hellhole of Oakland Acres wasn’t exactly what the young men wanted out of life. In their imaginative yet simple minds, they were destined for far greater things.
At six foot two, with muscular builds and big, strong hands, they looked the part of hardworking young men, but neither one of them enjoyed slaving over hot engines or changing tires all day long. Both were actually decent mechanics too, but since they’d been young their heads had always been in the clouds and they were constantly on the lookout for ways to get rich quick with the least amount of effort on their part. Especially if it could somehow also involve their other favorite hobby—horror movies.
Travis and Tim simply adored watching horror movies; the more violent and gory, the better. Texas Chainsaw Massacre, My Bloody Valentine, Halloween, Hostel; you name it, they’d seen it a dozen times or more. In fact, if it wasn’t for having to show up for work every morning except Sunday, they’d sit and watch movies all day long. It wasn’t until they finally saw a pirated DVD copy of The Blair Witch Project several years ago that the wheels in their heads really got spinning. Tim had followed all the hoopla that quasi-documentary had caused on the Internet and although everyone eventually figured out the witch was nothing but a clever Hollywood hoax, it still didn’t stop thousands of rabid fans and thrill seekers from heading to Burkittsville, Maryland, to see the supposedly haunted woods for themselves. Still to this day, people were flocking to the Blair Witch site and the people of Burkittsville were reaping bucket loads of cash from the steady stream of offbeat tourists. Tim figured if they could get rich off a hoax, why the hell couldn’t he and his brother? They had drive and imagination. They had their own dark, spooky woods too. They even had a plan where Tim would create a website and blog where they’d start slowly leaking out information and building interest through phony news clips and fake sightings.
All they needed was the right hoax.
“How about a headless horseman?” Travis said, knowing right away it was a stupid suggestion.
“Think that one’s already been done, dummy!”
“I guess. All right, how about that old priest Dad used to tell us about? Remember him? Jacob something, I think?”
“Priest?” Tim said, trying to think back. Their father, Bryan Skyler, had died four years ago, eaten away by cancer around the time the brothers had started thinking about all this stuff. Even though he’d been in horrible pain by the end, Bryan had tried to pitch in ideas, telling his sons all sorts of old ghost stories from their area of Iowa. Most of them were retreads of every other local urban legend across the country, but some of them—especially the ones he told after taking strong drugs to ease his suffering—had been pretty damn spooky. “Oh…you mean the reverend. Yeah. What about him?”
“I don’t know. I just always found that story scary. It’s not that often an entire village goes nutso and wipes out their holy man. Dad seemed to think it was true, and that it happened near here too. We keep looking for a catchy hoax, but wouldn’t something that was actually true be even better?”
“Hard to say, man. Dad didn’t know what he was talking about near the end. I wouldn’t count on anything he told us, you know?”
“Yeah, suppose you’re right. Still, even if it’s all bullshit, we could twist it into something we can use. You know, the priest…reverend, whatever, he still walks the woods looking for the men and women that murdered him. You can come up with something better. We’ll call him the Reverend of Rock Creek.”
“That’s actually not too bad, dude,” Tim said. “I’ll think about it, okay? Looks like someone’s pulling in for gas anyway. You better go take care of them.”
“Why me?”
“I told ya…I’m thinking, man! Jesus, do I have to do everything around here?”
Rich pulled into the only gas station he could find in Oakland Acres. The sign above the open double garage doors said CARLTON AUTO, and it looked to be the kind of efficient, small country place that did everything anyone might require for their vehicle, from pumping gas to changing their transmission. There was even a row of three freshly washed cars facing the road with for-sale signs on them, so maybe this was the local dealership as well. Stopping by the pump, a tall dark-haired guy in greasy coveralls came walking out of the repair shop to come help them. Rich and Dan both got out of the car to meet him. The girls stayed in the backseat.
“Howdy, fellas,” the mechanic said. “You need a fill-up?”
“Actually no,” Dan said. “A friend of ours broke down just outside of town and we’re hoping you can help.”
“Certainly. What’s the matter?”
“We’re not really sure. He might even just be out of gas, but we don’t know. Kinda looks like his gas gauge might be broken. Any chance we can borrow a jerrican full of gas to check? We’ll pay for it, of course, and bring you the can back right away.”
“No problem. I’ll go grab one.”
The mechanic went inside and came back out with a red plastic ten-gallon container. He filled it about half full, screwed the lid in place, and carried it over to Dan. “You want me to come with you guys? If the car’s out of gas, great, but if something else is wrong maybe I can save you a second trip. My name’s Travis, by the way.”
Dan introduced everyone. “That’s really nice, man, but we don’t want to be a pain. And to be honest, we can’t really afford a mechanic charging us for roadside assistance if we don’t need it. No offense.”
“None taken, and don’t worry about it. I won’t charge you anything if it’s only out of gas. Promise.”
“You sure we’re not putting you out?”
“Hell, I don’t have anything going on today anyway. It’ll give me something to do. Let me grab my tool kit, just in case. Be right with you.”
“Thanks, Travis. We appreciate it.”
When the mechanic walked away, Kelly and Liz climbed out of the backseat. They’d heard what the plan was and weren’t particularly thrilled at the prospect of sharing the backseat with a big, dirty mechanic and his tool kit. “Think we’ll just hang out here,” Kelly said. “There’s a little antique shop across the street th
ere. Lizzy and I can look around in there until you guys get back.”
“Sure,” Rich said. “Whatever you want. Just don’t get into full shopping mode, okay? If it’s only the gas, we’ll be back in no time.”
“That’s fine. Not exactly like shopping in Macy’s. Hurry and get back.”
“We will.”
Travis returned to the car with his tools and soon the three young men were pulling out onto Highway 6 and heading south again. Hopefully they would have some luck getting Pat’s car on the road again soon.
“Come on, Lizzy. Let’s check this burg out.”
Ten minutes later, the girls had seen all they wanted to in Oakland Acres. Gilda’s Treasures was more of a junkyard than an antique store and the bookstore beside it was closed and locked, despite the sign on the door saying COME ON IN! There was an old-fashioned diner down the street that looked promising, but it wasn’t lunchtime yet and the girls didn’t want to eat without everyone else anyway, so there was no sense walking down there to check it out. With nothing left to do, they headed back to the garage to wait for their ride to come back.
“Maybe we can sit down inside?” Lizzy said. “Grab a soda or something?”
“Sure. If they have any. Don’t hold your breath.”
Inside the auto shop, they found a small waiting room with a vending machine and several scuffed-up chairs people could sit in while they waited for their car to be fixed. To their shock, Travis the mechanic was sitting in one of these chairs reading a well-worn copy of Famous Monsters of Movieland magazine. Seeing him caused the girls to do a double take, confused as to how this was possible.
“What the hell? Didn’t you just leave with our boyfriends to try and fix our friend’s car?” Kelly asked.
“What?” the dark-haired mechanic said, looking up from what he’d been reading, puzzled for a second. “Oh no…not me. That was Travis, my brother. I’m Tim. We’re identical twins. People mix us up all the time.”
