The Lost Treasure of Tuckernuck (6 page)

“So maybe a cat statue or painting or something? Like a cat version of Hilda?”

“Please, I'm trying to eat here.” Laurie made a retching sound. “I didn't find anything like that. I looked.”

“Okay, but there's got to be one somewhere. So we should just split up and start looking again? You take the eastern half and I'll take the western?” Bud eyed Laurie warily. He didn't know if the retching sound she'd made was voluntary or involuntary.

“Fine, we'll do another search. We'll have this solved in no time.” Laurie was still mad, Bud could tell. She wasn't even meeting his eyes.

Bud stood a moment in silence, watching Laurie chew.

“Take a picture, it'll last longer.” Laurie didn't even look up.

“You know,” he said tentatively, “I'll bet Maria Tutweiler didn't think it was going to take longer than twenty years to solve this thing. She probably thought it would only take a couple of months.”

Laurie didn't say anything. She just frowned a little and continued chewing. Bud figured that must be one chewy biscuit. She didn't seem to be catching his drift.

“She probably didn't think a real cat would have time to die, see what I mean?” Bud tried again.

“I know.” Laurie finally looked up, but only to glare at him.

Bud finished his word problems and put down his pencil. “Done.”

Mr. Wallace clicked the stopwatch and smiled at him. “Plenty of time left. Good job, Bud.” He pulled the paper over. “Assuming they're right, that is.” Mr. Wallace punched Bud playfully on the shoulder.

Bud cleared his throat. “So, you know, at school, there's supposed to be this treasure.”

Mr. Wallace checked off his word problems one by one. “What's that?”

“A treasure. It's supposed to be hidden somewhere in the school. With clues. The old principal put them out so a kid would find it.”

“That sounds fun.” Mr. Wallace made an X on the paper. “You missed number four, Bud.” He pushed the paper back. “You're not going to get into the Ivy League with work like that. Can you see where you went wrong?”

Bud looked at the paper and went over the problem in his head. Shoot. He'd forgotten to carry the one. “Sorry, Dad,” he said, fixing it.

Mr. Wallace took the paper back and smiled. “I knew you knew how to do it.”

“So the treasure, at school. Everybody's been trying to find it, for, like, fifty years. But no one can solve the first clue, right? It's a total mystery.”

Mr. Wallace frowned. “This isn't a true story, is it? It's some kind of school legend?”

Bud shrugged. “Well, no, see …” Bud tried to figure out a way to explain. Bud's dad had gone to Hamilton. It would've been so much easier if his mom had been there. She'd been a Clucker.

“Sort of a legend, I guess.” Bud stared at the red X on his paper.

Mr. Wallace looked at Bud for a long minute. “Hamilton didn't have anything like that. And your mother …” Mr. Wallace took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “Your mother never mentioned treasure to me.”

Bud could've kicked himself. He hadn't meant to make his dad sad again. “It's just a crazy story.” Bud shifted in his chair. He should've just stuck to the word problems.

Bud cleared his throat. “Can I use the computer to work on my homework?”

Mr. Wallace took his hand away from his eyes and gave Bud a weak smile. “Sure thing, kid.”

Bud got up and headed to the study. He wouldn't mention the treasure again. Not until he'd found it.

Laurie was watching Misti Pinkerton pry the metallic lid off a container of yogurt when the crackly announcement started over the ancient PA system. Laurie hardly noticed. Odds were pretty good Misti was going to end up wearing a good portion of that yogurt before lunch was over. Misti was what you could call spill prone.

It was hard to ignore Principal Winkle's cheery voice though. Especially since he was practically shouting.

“Good morning, Cluckers! This is your princi“PAL,” Martin Winkle! Today's the big day, so put on your Clucker hats. It's time for the first Clucker rally of the year. Warm up your vocal cords, because we'll be expecting some beautiful harmonies this afternoon!”

The PA system squealed with feedback and then shut off. Laurie felt sick.

“There's not really a Clucker hat, right? That's just a figure of speech?” Laurie's mom had every bit of Clucker merchandise there was, including the limited-edition clucking cookie jar, but she'd never seen a hat. Laurie really hoped it wasn't some new thing. She wasn't a fashion plate or anything, but even she knew that a chicken hat would be a hard look to pull off.

Misti's face brightened. “You mean like the shirt? I hope so. Maybe they'll give them out at the rally.”

“Great.” Laurie scooched back a little as Misti's lid came off, spraying Misti with a fine yogurt mist. Not bad, considering Misti's history. Yesterday she'd spent the afternoon with a stripe of Thousand Island dressing down her front.

Laurie watched as Misti licked the yogurt lid before setting it aside. She'd been hanging out with Misti and Kimmy since second grade, but in all that time, she'd never really noticed Misti was so … well, Misti-like. Maybe it just hadn't been so obvious when Kimmy was around.

“Yeah, so I figured it all out.” Bud jerked the chair next to Laurie out from the table and threw himself into it cockily.

Misti stopped, spoonful of plain yogurt still in her mouth, and glared at Bud. “Excuse me, Laurie, but I'd better go before my sweet tooth offends someone.” Misti put the not-quite-clean spoon into her bag, gathered her things together quickly, and huffed off.

“Man.” Bud looked deflated. “People just won't let that go.”

“What, we eat together now? I don't think we're at the eating together stage, okay?” Laurie looked around nervously. It was hard not to notice the nasty looks being thrown in their direction.

Bud barely paid attention. “It was just one science project. Man, I wish I'd done photosynthesis.”

Laurie shrugged. She didn't really know what to say. “That might've been better.”

Bud gave her a half grin. “You know the stupidest part? I was just so psyched that my dad thought my presentation was good enough to take to the school board. I was all for it. I wasn't thinking about what would happen if we won.”

Laurie crumpled up her bag. “Misti hates plain yogurt. It makes her cranky. I hear there's an underground sugar network in high school, though, so people should forgive you then.”

Bud sighed heavily. “Yeah, well, I figured it out. If anyone cares.”

Laurie looked skeptical. “What, the clue? And how'd you do that? There are no freaking cats in the whole school. What'd you do? Find a dead cat?”

Bud blushed furiously. “She said it right there—we have to know what we're trying to understand. And we didn't. Get it?”

Laurie tried to look like she knew what he was talking about, but she didn't have a clue. “Okay, fine, what's that supposed to mean?” Who cared what Bud Wallace thought, anyway?

“That poem. She left off the title, right? So that's the clue. We need to know the title to solve the clue. It's a poem by Keats, and it's called ‘Mrs. Reynolds' Cat.' So there. Clue solved.”

Laurie felt her skepticism waning. “So how'd you find that out?” It sounded good, she had to admit. She couldn't believe she hadn't even considered the name of the poem.

“Just a little thing I like to call Google,” Bud bragged. He seemed to have recovered from the whole Misti snub. “I just typed in that first line, and the work was done.”

He opened his backpack and pulled out a page printed off of the internet. It was an exact copy of the poem in the scroll, except Bud was right. Right there along the top, it said “Mrs. Reynolds' Cat” by John Keats.

Laurie nodded. “Wow. Good job, Einstein. You're right.” It was some impressive Googling.

Bud stopped smirking and broke into a genuine smile. “No problem.”

Laurie wasn't willing to let him off the hook though. “So Mrs. Reynolds' cat
what
? Or is Keats the important part? I still don't see how that leads us anywhere except to a big old dead end.”

“Well, whatever.” Bud slumped back into the chair. “It's something, though.”

Laurie nodded. “Yeah, it's something.”

They sat in silence for a second, staring at the poem. Finally Bud cleared his throat.

“It must be Keats, right? Maybe something in the English department?”

“Laurie!” Misti came racing over before Laurie could respond. “Oh, hello, Bud.” Her voice was so icy Laurie's milk almost froze over. But Misti was too excited to keep up the pose for long.

“Laurie, you were right! We get hats!” She put on a baseball hat with a big chicken face on the front, wings on the sides, and scrawny yellow legs dangling down the back. “Aren't they great? This school is the best!”

Laurie put her head on her arms and groaned.

“Okay, kids! Let's hear it for Tuckernuck Hall!” Principal Winkle looked out over the sea of bobbing Clucker hats and smiled. It was amazing—give a kid some Clucker gear, teach them the fight song, and
poof
—instant school spirit. It never failed.

Principal Winkle nodded to Mr. Murphy, the band director. The older students erupted in cheers at the opening notes of the Tuckernuck Hall fight song.

This last semester was going to be a good one.

Clucker Fight Song

Remember—sing out with spirit and enthusiasm! (Clapping encouraged!)

All Tuckernuck Cluckers should give a cheer

Because us Cluckers do not bow to fear.

We're gonna win win win the game today.

We'll use our pluck and brains whatever come what may.

And we will peck! peck! peck! at every foe.

We'll show our opposition where to go,

And we will crow our victory out loud.

Oh, and how! CLUCK! CLUCK! CLUCK!

YAY!

“Wasn't that awesome, Laurie?” Misti skipped alongside Laurie, her hat's chicken legs flapping out behind her. “This is the best school. We never had assemblies like that last year!”

Laurie felt a pang of guilt. She was the worst Clucker ever. She stopped skipping, tearing off her Clucker hat and dragging it behind her by one spindly yellow leg. This was going to be a bad, bad year. Without Kimmy around, everything was wrong. Misti was all weird and chicken crazed, and the whole Clucker thing just seemed stupid. Besides, she wasn't even going to be a Clucker. She'd stick around until she found that treasure, maybe, but after that she'd do whatever it took to be a Hamilton Hornet. But she wasn't about to say that to a girl in a chicken hat.

Misti, still skipping, linked arms with Crystal Martin. She didn't even notice as Laurie dropped behind and then ducked into an alcove near the auditorium doors.

Bud wandered out of the auditorium, humming the “peck! peck! peck!” part of the song under his breath. He didn't spot Laurie until she'd grabbed him by the upper arm and dragged him into the doorway next to the auditorium.

“Wha—?” Bud pulled his arm away. “I bruise easily, okay? Watch it.”

“Sorry, Princess. We need to find out about Keats. Singing time is over.” Laurie didn't want to waste any more time. She needed solid gold bars, and she needed them now.

Bud made a face at the princess line, but he didn't argue. Being the ruling Clucker was looking pretty appealing. Maybe he'd get a bigger hat.

“I can't miss class, Laurie,” Bud said, checking his watch nervously.

Laurie rolled her eyes at him. “We have plenty of time. I know a shortcut—we'll just do a quick sweep of the English hall, find the Keats painting or statue or whatever, and then we'll be golden.”

“Well, okay. But fast.” Bud wasn't about to be late the first week of school.

Laurie grabbed Bud by the arm and raced off down the hallway. Without hesitation, she dashed around the corner, down a narrow passageway and came out in the English hall. Or what she thought was the English hall.

Tipoffs That You're Not in an English Hallway, but in a Deceptively Similar Music Hallway
by Laurie Madison, grade six

“Shoot.” Laurie looked at the music stand perched outside a classroom doubtfully. “That doesn't look right.”