The playground near me is small, like me. Mom says it’s just my size. I like it because it has a tall slide. But today there’s a kid at the top.
He sticks out his tongue at me.
“This is my slide.”
I tell him that the park district owns the slide.
“No, I’m on it so I own it.”
I ask if I can have a turn.
“You can’t slide until I’m done.”
I ask how long it will be.
“Hours.” And he spits over the side at me.
He misses, and some of it gets on his sweater. I watch him. He wipes himself off and watches me.
I think about my options.
He is bigger than me, so I can’t push him.
He won’t listen to me, so I can’t talk to him.
I walk to the sandbox nearby and sit on a corner with my back to him. I set my backpack down and suddenly notice a crinkled corner of paper in the side pocket. I pull it out and examine it. It has markings and numbers and x’s on it. It has ink smudges everywhere, and it looks old.
The kid slides to the bottom and climbs back up. He slides again. He climbs again. I think he watches me out of the corner of his eye.
I count under my breath as I look at the paper. I look over my shoulder at him. He sees me do it, and I quickly turn back. I stand, and with my head down I mark out paces by the sandbox.
He slides, but doesn’t climb.
“What are you doing?”
“What’s that you’ve got?”
“No, seriously. Let me see.”
It’s a map.
He comes closer and watches me. I stop pacing and look at him.
“Seriously. What’s the map for?”
I glance over each shoulder, then whisper.
Can you keep a secret?
His eyes get big and he leans in.
What’s your name?
Mine’s Pete. Nice to meet you.
“What’s the map about?”
It looks like a map to buried treasure.
“What kind of treasure?”
I don’t know yet. Do you want to help me find it?
“What if you’re lying?”
I’m not lying about it. I could use your help to get it.
“Okay. What’s your name?”
Nice to meet you.
“Where do we start?”
We pace along the walls of the sandbox together, looking carefully at the map. It leads us from the sandbox, around a tree at right angles, toward the gate.
Take Elm to the corner of Madison. We get our bikes. Ben has a cool blue ten-speed with racing stripes. He brags about how he got it for his birthday from his rich uncle. I got mine from my mom. It’s smaller, but fast and red and it has a bell that sounds like a boatswain’s whistle. He thinks that’s pretty cool. He says his bike was so expensive that his mom couldn’t afford it so his uncle got it for him.
We bike to Madison. A riddle about a tiny house with books living in it. There’s a house with a little box lending library attached. They have Sea of Monsters. He likes Tyson. I like Grover. We debate.
We check the number by the riddle against a page number. There’s a yellow post-it note with my address on it – “beware the front gate; go to the back.” The back gate is unlocked. We pace thirteen, left four, right twenty, and find a pile of fresh dirt and two trowels. We unearth a cardboard chest.
Inside are two pirate outfits, two foam swords, and a basket full of chocolate gold coins.
“Sweet! You be Jack Sparrow, I’ll be Blackbeard!”
We spar and walk the plank and leap from piles of mulch. We eat too many coins. Ben does a great parrot impression.
Dad walks out the back with lemonade.
“Who’s your friend, Pete?”
This is Ben.
“Hi Ben! Cool swords.”
Ben waves it at him and growls.
“Arrrr ye landlubber!”
We get lemonade.
Dad catches me looking at his hand, and wipes a smudge of black ink from it. He winks.
I turn to Ben.
Come on, let’s go hunting for treasure again.