Hidden Treasure

HIDDEN TREASURE

          “Please wait.” Thirty-year-old Janie Foster begged as thunder roared across the sky. She ran across the remnants of a cornfield; desperately, trying to avoid the corn stalk stubbles that protruded from the ground. The thunder roared again, warning of the pending storm that was only minutes away.
         “Blast!” Janie cursed as she tripped over one of the stubbles and fell to her knees. She had barely missed impaling her hand.
         Pulling herself to her feet, she glanced up at the quickly darkening sky. She could see a literal wall of water headed for her.
         “I’m never going to make it!” She cried, hopelessly, as she started to run again.
         Large drops of rain started to pelt her and she was soaked by the time she had reached the door of the ancient barn, which had been her destination before the threatening sound of the thunder had warned her of the coming storm.
         Tugging on the wooden handle, Janie managed to pull open the mammoth door and slip inside, just as a bolt of lightening struck a nearby tree.
         “Damn! That was close!”
         Janie coughed as she took a deep breath, trying to catch her wind. The air was stifling, with its years of accumulation of dust, rotted straw, and numerous other odors.
         Pulling the flashlight out of her jacket pocket, Janie surveyed her surroundings.
         Mike had told her that there were few things left in the old barn and he had been right. It looked as though the antique dealers had picked it clean. A few old leather straps, perhaps broken straps from an old harness, hung on one wall. Broken tools, old tin cans, and broken bottles littered the floor.
         Picking up a shovel with only half a handle, Janie used it to move aside the litter. After forty-five minutes of painstakingly meticulous searching, Janie found what she was looking for. Buried under some old rotted straw was a rusted ring.
         Scraping away a four-foot area of trash, Janie uncovered a well-hidden trap door. Reaching down, she took a firm grip on the ring and pulled. The door creaked, but barely moved. Janie braced her feet and tried again. This time the door groaned and slowly opened.
         Propping the shovel against the door to keep it open, Janie ran the beam of her flashlight down an ancient pair of stairs. Testing each step as she gingerly placed her foot on it, Janie made her way slowly down into the barn’s basement.
         The basement looked exactly as she remembered it, complete with dirt floor, spiders and spider webs. An old wooden five-drawer desk stood against one wall with a wooden swivel office chair sitting in front of it.
         Janie started as a sudden noise came from a far corner. Flicking the flashlight that way, she spotted a mouse scurrying across the floor and into a hole in the rock foundation.
          Relieved, glad that it had not been a rat, Janie made her way across the dirt floor to the desk.
         Checking the handles, first, for spiders or other bugs, Janie tugged on the top-most right-hand drawer. It refused to budge; dampness in the old basement had swollen the wood. Janie tugged harder, finally having to place her foot against the desk and pulling with all of her strength. Little by little, the drawer creaked open, but only half way.
         Shinning the flashlight towards the back of the drawer, Janie could see a large white envelope lying in the rear of the drawer. Checking for insects, first, she tentatively reached in and pulled out the envelope.
         Excited, Janie opened the envelope and pulled out a yellowed slip of paper, but before she had the chance to read it, she heard a noise from up above. Suddenly, the trap door slammed shut, the ancient shovel handle having snapped in two from the weight of the door.
         “NO!” Janie shouted, dropping the paper and envelope onto the top of the desk and rushing to the stairwell.
          “Oh God, no, I don‘t want to be trapped down here! “ Janie pleaded as she tried to push up on the heavy door.
         “Help! Someone please help!” Janie shouted, but the only sound from above was that of the storm, which was raging furiously outside.
         Despondent, Janie sat down on one of the steps. She knew that there was not any other way out of the basement and the trap door was too heavy for her to push open.
         Her only hope was that someone would come looking for her, when she didn’t arrive back at the motel where she was staying. Unfortunately, the only one who might have any idea as to where she was at was Michael, her one and only cousin.

#

         Almost all of the family had moved away from the family farm, owned by her grandparents many years ago. After Grandpa Foster had died, Grandma had sold the farm and moved in with her youngest son, Jerry, Janie’s father, and his family in the city. David, Michael’s father, had died fighting in the war. Michael and his mother had moved to a nearby town, to be closer to her relatives.
         Grandma Foster had past away almost five years ago and while going through her personal effects, Janie and her mother had come upon an old letter addressed to her grandfather.
         The letter had been from the town bank, which had been in the small town near Grandpa Foster’s farm. Due to the increasing number of people moving away, the letter said, the bank’s company had decided to close the small branch and relocate in a larger town, ten miles away. They had moved all their funds and security box contents to the larger bank.
         Janie, also, had remembered seeing that same letter when she was a child. She had been spending the summer with her grandparents, as was Michael. Grandpa Foster had received the letter in the mail. He had given it to her Grandmother, telling her to put it in with the other important papers. So she would know where their security box was at, should something happen to him.
         Three years later, Grandpa had died in a farming accident. Grandma had sold the farm, taking only her personal things and a box full of old papers and had moved in with her son, the letter and security box long since been forgotten.
         Janie had forgotten about the letter until she recently came across it in her own mother’s personal effects, after her parents had died in a car accident. She had gone to the bank, but was told that she would have to have the key and some proof of ownership to get into the box.
         Janie had gone through her mother and grandmother’s personal effects again; but was unable to locate the key. It was then, that she remembered the old desk in the barn basement. After contacting the farm’s new owners and getting permission to look for the desk, Janie had called her cousin to let him know what was going on.

#

         Janie got up and resignedly walked down the stairs and went back over to the desk. Retrieving the slip of paper, she nodded and smiled as she read what it contained. Picking up the envelope, Janie reached in and pulled out a small key.
         Satisfied, Janie replaced the key and paper back into its envelope, folded it and placed it into her back hip pocket on her jeans.
         Brushing the dust off the chair, Janie sat down and waited, hoping that someone would soon realize that she was missing.
         Hours later, Janie jerked awake realizing that she had dozed off. Grabbing the flashlight from the top of the desk, where she had placed it, she quickly looked down at herself, to make sure no spiders or other insects had made their way onto her. Satisfied, she took a quick look around the basement. Nothing living was visible.
         Relieved, Janie suddenly realized that she could no longer hear the storm above her. In fact, she heard what sounded like a voice and footsteps.
         Jumping to her feet, Janie ran up the stairs and started to pound on the trap door.
         “Help! Help! I’m down here!” She yelled at the top of her voice.
         Hearing footfalls directly overhead, Janie backed down the stairs a few steps, hoping that the person above was a friend and not some criminal who was using the barn for shelter from the storm.
         “Janie?” Michael’s muffled voice came from above her.
         “Yes, Michael! Yes! I’m down here!” Janie replied, relieved.
         Janie heard the creaking of the trap door as Michael tried to open it and seconds later, a rush of cool fresh air assailed her.
         “Are you all right?” Michael asked, as he reached a hand down to help Janie up the stairs.
         “Yes, I’m fine.” Janie replied. “Boy, am I glad to see you. What are you doing here? I thought you had an appointment.”
         “I did, but my curiosity got the better of me and I cancelled it. When I got to your motel, you were already gone, so I drove out here. I guess it was a good thing I did.” Michael explained.
         “Yes it was. I thought I was going to be stuck down there for days before anyone came to rescue me.”
         “Did you find what you were looking for?” Michael asked, curious.
         “Yes, yes I did.” Janie smiled, happily. “I found the key to Grandfather’s security box and a receipt for the contents. According to the receipt, Grandfather had a $100,000 accidental death life insurance policy and about a $1000 in cash in the box.”
         “Do you think it’s still there?” Michael asked, doubtfully. “It’s been nearly twenty years.”
         “I don’t know, but since we are the lone survivors, whatever is in it, we split fifty-fifty.”
         “Well, what are we waiting for, let’s get going! “ Michael exclaimed, closing the trapdoor and heading for the door. “The bank closes in less than an hour. Let‘s go find out.”
         Janie smiled at her cousin’s enthusiasm as she followed. Even if there wasn’t anything of value in the security box, getting to know her cousin again, was a treasure in itself.

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