“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 hippiecannibals,” 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 wedofind 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.
