Chapter 6 #2
from beneath long, pale lashes. I couldn’t say why, but I was almost positive he’d bumped into me on purpose. He and Punkin
headed up a barely noticeable dirt path leading away from the sandy strip into the woods, and I followed, with Jazmine behind
and Benny and Lulu eventually catching up.
Our destination was barely a two-minute walk from where we beached the canoes, up a twisting path through white pines and
beech trees. When the ground started getting rocky, the cave suddenly came into view—just a round, black hole in a foothill.
“Pinemoon Cave, how I’ve missed you,” Seb said, lugging the backpack off his shoulder. Inside were two old flashlights, one
LED headlamp, and one camping lantern. “Didn’t know we’d have Lulu with us, so Benny, you’ll have to share with her.”
“Cool lantern,” she said, snagging it for her and Benny. Jaz took the headlamp, and Seb and I grabbed the flashlights. One
by one, we each ducked beneath dangling vines to enter the cave.
The drop in temperature was always startling. I inhaled earthy, cool air as I straightened and swung my flashlight around.
“Damn. Exactly the same as we left it,” Benny appraised.
Pinemoon Cave wasn’t big. It consisted of two areas.
The main one, where we stood, was the size of a small house, and the secondary cavern was long and narrow.
Here in the main section, there was a dip in the middle of the stone floor that we’d used as a firepit because a tunnel-shaped hole in the ceiling allowed rising smoke to escape.
Apparently we weren’t the last to use it, either: there was old, burnt wood in the pit and a fair amount of empty beer cans and some plastic water bottles strewn around.
“Someone’s been using our cave as a party spot,” Seb said in singsong voice as his dog trotted around, exploring the cavern
with her nose.
Benny snorted softly. “Why didn’t we think of that?”
“Because the only alcohol we could get our hands on back then was that dusty bottle of cooking sherry in your mom’s kitchen,”
Seb pointed out.
“My parents don’t drink,” Benny argued. “How is that my fault?”
“Is that why you’re such a lightweight?” Lulu said, poking Benny in the stomach with a teasing finger.
“Guilty as charged,” he said, flashing her a goofy smile that I’d never seen on his face. “Your man cannot hold his liquor.”
“But he can sure hold me,” she answered, snuggling up to him.
I mimed gagging at Jazmine and continued past the canoodling couple.
A climbable rocky ledge sat along the back wall. At the far side of it, you could access a smaller cavern behind this one
that had a small stream of water running through it.
“It’s so much smaller than I remembered,” Seb said, kicking one of the empty beer cans. “Wasn’t it bigger?”
“I think we just were smaller back then,” Jazmine said. “Hey, look over there—is that our flag?”
We crossed the front of the cavern to a small nook, where tattered, drooping fabric hung from the wall.
The summer after fifth grade, we’d painted a sheet with big block letters that read WAGS, four swords, and some shoddy Latin for our motto: Thesaurus nos coniungit.
United by treasure. Once we discovered “thesaurus” meant “treasure” in Latin, we used it as a code word.
On top of our childhood artwork, someone had spray-painted a penis. Several more were painted on the wall beside it.
“Would you look at this shit . . . ?” Jazmine said, shaking her head.
“Guess Banksy has finally run out of ideas,” I said.
“Why is it always dicks, do you think?” Seb mused. “Dicks and peace symbols are the only graffiti you ever see in Haven Beach.”
“Maybe it’s because of that hippie sex cult living in that abandoned mill out past the harbor,” Benny said.
When we all quizzically looked at him, he shrugged.
“Hank Johnson told me about it yesterday. Apparently everyone’s seen lights out there late at night the past few weeks. People
have been telling stories about finding human remains and wondering if there were cannibals squatting out there—”
“Eww,” Lulu said, making a face.
“Hank took a crew of guys out to the mill last weekend to find out,” Benny reported, “but they just got chased off.”
“By cannibals?” I asked.
Benny shook his head. “Just some weirdos wearing a lot of tie-dye.”
Jazmine shone her flashlight below her chin and spoke in a spooky voice. “And those weirdoes are now holed up inside this
very cave. Hello? Sex hippies?” she called out, voice echoing around the cavern.
“Sex hippie cannibals,” Seb corrected.
Benny snorted a soft laugh. “Hope they ate one another before they found our treasure.”
“So, the treasure . . . What are we even supposed to be looking for?” Jazmine said, adjusting the ponytail holder that was
keeping her corkscrew curls constrained. “I mean, over the years, we’ve probably spent hundreds of hours in here. If Wyrd
Jack hid the Venus here, we would’ve found it. I mean, it is a life-sized gold sculpture of a naked goddess.”
“Good point, good question,” Seb said.
“I suppose we’re looking for something we missed?” I said.
“Like more gold bars,” Lulu said enthusiastically.
“Don’t hold your breath,” I informed her. “There really isn’t any proof Jack hid any gold. Mostly just artwork, liquor, a
whole lot of lumber, and guns. You know, the American dream.”
“By the way, if we do find Wyrd Jack’s sculpture,” Benny said, detaching himself from Lulu, “how are we splitting the profit? I assume we’ll sell
it, so whatever cash we get, we divide five ways, right?”
“Already picked out your new Italian sports car?” I said.
“So funny,” he said. “No, someone back at school gave me an idea for an app.”
Benny had built several useless apps. A name generator for alternative pets. Another one that tracked the distance you scroll
on your phone. A dating app that paired couples by song listens.
“And what is this new idea?” I asked. “Or is it top secret?”
He hesitated, then gave in. “Think Uber for local babysitters. If someone needs a babysitter, they’ll be able to browse for
one nearby who’s been vetted.”
“Yeah, a group of girls in the eighties created that. It’s called the Baby-Sitters Club,” Jazmine said. “Patty had the entire
book series.”
Benny frowned.
“Or, you know, people could just ask their next-door neighbor’s kid to babysit, like they’ve been doing for generations,”
Seb said. “Let’s just take a look around here first before you go spending what we don’t even have yet on babysitting.”
“Hey, it’s an untapped market . . .”
Was it really? That seemed unlikely, but what did I know?
I left the boys while they argued and began searching the cavern on my own, pointing my flashlight at the floor and walls.
Jazmine went in the opposite direction, and soon there were beams of light roving over the stone like a laser show in a planetarium.
I truly didn’t know what I was looking for—some kind of hidden button that unlocked a hidden cache? A giant treasure chest
buried behind one of the stalagmites? Secret writing on the walls?
“Guys? Hippie cannibal cult strikes again—check it out,” Jazmine announced from the other side of the cavern. “Used condom.”
And it might be the only treasure here.
As the group laughed over Jazmine’s discovery, I climbed onto the ledge at the back, steadied myself, and then carefully picked
my way along the stone until I got to the end, where there was a small tunnel leading into the second room.
When we were young, I could duckwalk through the short tunnel, but now I had to crawl, and that made me nervous. But it took
me only seconds, and before I could get too panicked, the tunnel ended, and I was standing inside the back cavern, bouncing
my flashlight’s cone of light around the stone walls.
There was no treasure in the front cavern. Was there something back here?