The Lost Treasure of Tuckernuck (22 page)

“Right. So let's see what she says.” There was no mistaking Maria Tutweiler's spidery handwriting. They'd both pored over the first note so many times they could practically see it in their sleep.

CONGRATULATIONS, BRAVE ADVENTURERS!

You have done well and come far. Everything you need to solve the puzzle is in your grasp, as it has been since you set out on your journey. But if you need a final nudge, here is one final clue.

See you at the finish line!

Maria Tutweiler

If you enter the school from the rear entrance, pass that which makes the blood flow, turn left to pass the wisdom of the ages, and turn right as you reach that which stirs our souls. When you reach the heart of the mind, fifty paces to your left shall lead you to your journey's end.

Bud looked at Laurie and shrugged. “Yeah, beats me.”

At the front of the school, a loud rumbling noise started up. A noise like bulldozers starting.

Bud bit his lip. “Probably just moving them, right?”

Laurie nodded. They'd better be.

“Race you to the back entrance?” Bud got in a runner pose.

“You bet,” Laurie said, taking off down the hall. She had no idea what Maria Tutweiler was talking about, but they'd figure it out. They had to.

PART EIGHT

“Okay, here goes nothing.” Bud took a deep breath, and he and Laurie stepped into the back entrance to the school simultaneously.

“Do you see it?” Laurie whispered. They were taking super-slow baby steps, like they expected an ambush or a trapdoor to open at any moment.

“See what?” Bud whispered back.

“That which makes our blood flow.”

“Nope,” Bud said, a chill running down his back. Blood flowing sure didn't sound good. He hadn't really planned on any physical confrontations in this whole hunting-for-treasure thing, and he wasn't really excited about starting now. He wished he'd brought some kind of weapon. Anything. Even the beef stick he'd eaten before school would've made him feel better.

“That which makes our blood flow,” Laurie whispered again. They were passing locker after locker. Nothing really bloody about lockers.

Just past the lockers, Laurie stopped abruptly. “Is that it?” She blinked at Bud.

“What?” He looked around, but he wasn't seeing anything unusual. “What are you looking at?”

“Not looking, listen.” Laurie's ears were almost pricking up, she was concentrating so hard. “The gym. Isn't that what people say? That exercise gets your blood moving?”

“Makes the blood flow …,” Bud said thoughtfully. “I bet that's it.” He looked at the clue again. “Okay, so now we just go on past to the wisdom of ages. Then we hang a left.”

Laurie shrugged. “Oh, is that all? No problem.” She snickered. “I've got a good feeling about this one.”

They walked on, past the gym, past more lockers, and then suddenly Laurie jogged on ahead.

She gave a little cheer and turned back. “I knew it! The library! Wisdom of ages for sure!”

Bud grinned. This was going to be a cinch. “Hang a left!”

They headed to the left, waved to Miss Lucille, and hurried up the hallway toward the English hall.

“Okay, hold up, what's next?” Laurie stretched out her arm to stop Bud in his tracks.

He looked down at the paper. “That which stirs our souls?” He frowned. “Maybe. It could be that one.”

Laurie started into the English hall. “Was this always the English hall, though? I mean, the library was always the library, and the gym was always the gym, but the classrooms?”

She shook her head. “I don't know.”

Bud looked around. “Well, I do. No place to make a right here anyway. So we keep going.”

They continued on, a little more slowly than before. They rejected the music hall and the science hall (no right turns there either) and finally came to Reynolds Auditorium.

Bud grinned at Laurie. “That which stirs our souls?”

Laurie held up her hand for a high five. “Oh, yeah, definitely. This is awesome.” Bud didn't connect in his attempt to high five, but the thought was there, and that's what counts.

They made a right. “You know, I'm glad this isn't like the other clues. This is pretty much a gimme,” Laurie said, jogging along scanning the hallways.

“It's like a victory lap,” Bud said. “Check it out.” He pointed ahead. “How much do you want to bet we're at ‘the heart of the mind.'”

Laurie looked up to see the administrative offices in front of them.

“Trust the school founder to think of her office as ‘the heart of the mind.'” Bud chuckled.

Laurie could hardly believe they were so close to finding the treasure. She didn't really think it was gold bars anymore, but it might be a chest of jewels. That was a definite possibility. And it would be all hers. Well, hers and Bud's, whatever.

In front of the office door they came to a screeching halt. Bud looked serious and consulted the clue again. “Okay, this is where we have to be careful. Fifty paces to the left. So I guess regular-size steps?”

Laurie nodded. “Not too big, okay? Just normal.”

Counting under their breath, Laurie and Bud carefully made their way step by step down the hall. Hannah Stoller passed them on the way to her locker, but they didn't even notice the weird look she gave them. They were so close.

“Forty-eight, forty-nine, fifty.” Bud and Laurie stopped and looked around, practically holding their breath in anticipation.

“And … what the heck?” Bud's shoulders slumped. “Huh?” He looked at the clue carefully. “Maybe we did it wrong?”

Laurie shrugged. Their fifty careful steps had led them right back to the front hall of the school. Right back to the big empty area with the ugly paintings of people and things named everything but Hope. “This makes no sense.”

“Should we try again?” Bud said, a desperate look in his eyes.

The bulldozers had moved closer to the school—so close that they could see one of the construction guys spit into the grass.

Laurie sighed. “We'd better.”

EMAIL

FROM: MARSHALL DEAL, Tuckernuck Hall

TO: FLORA DOWNEY, Tuckernuck Hall

SUBJECT: What was that?

Flora:

Are you still working on that play? I saw two of your students doing what I can only assume was rehearsing in the hallway this afternoon. I thought Winkle said those activities were cancelled?

Marshall

EMAIL

FROM: FLORA DOWNEY, Tuckernuck Hall

TO: MARSHALL DEAL, Tuckernuck Hall

RE: What was what?

Students of mine? No students of mine were rehearsing today. What were they doing?

EMAIL

FROM: MARSHALL DEAL, Tuckernuck Hall

TO: FLORA DOWNEY, Tuckernuck Hall

SUBJECT: Never Mind

Never mind then. I bet it's some new craze. Something they saw on the internet. You know how kids are.

After three more tries led them right back to the front hall, Laurie and Bud gave up. They slumped down underneath the portrait of Hilda the ratty-looking chicken and spread out all the clues and letters in front of them. Laurie had done a pretty admirable job of making cutout versions of the H and A letters and had been keeping them in her locker with the others. Bud picked up the A and glared at it.

“I don't even care who sees,” Bud said defiantly, looking around at the empty hallway like he was daring the invisible people to look at Maria Tutweiler's papers. “We messed up somewhere.”

Laurie just sighed. “Maybe we should look at the letters again? That might help.”

“What, I HAD L? That's going to help? How's that going to help, Laurie?” Bud couldn't believe it. His dad was right. All of this had just been a big waste of time. He would've been better off studying.

Laurie didn't say anything; she just fiddled with the wooden D. Finally she looked up. “Okay, how about this. What if it isn't I HAD L? What if it's …” She took the A from Bud and rearranged the letters with a dramatic flourish. “LAD HI?”

Bud gave a short barky laugh. “Lad hi? What the heck's that supposed to mean? Wouldn't HI LAD make more sense?”

Laurie shrugged.

“So what, Tutweiler's just saying howdy? That's the treasure, a friendly greeting? That's really dumb, Laurie.”

Laurie watched Bud's face as he ranted. It was actually kind of interesting the way it was changing from pink to white and back again in random blotches across his face. She wondered what was going to happen next. If she had to bet, she would go with foaming at the mouth.

“Or why stop at HI LAD?” Bud said, obviously on a roll. “Why not make it IL HAD? Or HA LID? Or HIL DA?” Bud's voice died away as he looked at the word he'd just spelled out. All of the blotchy pink drained away from his face.

“Hilda?” Laurie and Bud looked at each other and then immediately craned their necks to look at the painting over their heads. The scrawny chicken in the portrait gazed back at them with a smug look in its eye.

“That is just sick.” Bud said. They'd been staring at the portrait for what felt like a million years. “I can't believe we fell for a joke by some twisted, chicken-obsessed freak. Wow, that's pathetic.”

Laurie had to agree. If the treasure was all a big joke, she would've appreciated someone filling her in before she'd spent the first three weeks of school—the most important time for forming social bonds—hanging out with the class outcast. Nobody had ever suggested that the big treasure might end up being a lame chicken portrait.

“Maybe you were supposed to tell Tutweiler when you'd figured it out? And then she'd hand you the treasure?” Laurie said doubtfully.

“Yeah, well, fat lot of good that does us now,” Bud said bitterly. “It's really just mean. And it's not even a good chicken. If you're going for a gag prize, why not go all the way and make the treasure ‘Dogs Playing Poker' or a velvet Elvis?” Bud was so mad at Maria Tutweiler he wanted to spit.