FINDERS KEEPERS
When my husband and son came home early from a camping trip, hauling a big footlocker in the truck bed and grinning like fools, I got a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. For one thing, Deke hadn’t called ahead to tell me they were coming home early so when I saw the 5150 pull into the drive my first thought was that something had happened to Andy.
I’d been upstairs when the truck pulled in and had practically levitated to the front door. Andy had launched himself into the house, throwing his arms around my knees and crowing, “We found a treasure mama.” I looked up at my husband and he nodded excitedly, his expression somewhere between ecstasy and fear. It was his O-face and I’d never seen it in broad daylight.
Deke brought the tarp into the living room and laid it down on the rug before humping the footlocker into the house. It was one of those olive-drab ones you see in war movies, rusting at the corners and the latches, the paint peeling off the metal. With the dirt and mold clinging to it, I couldn’t help but think that it looked a lot like a coffin.
“Open it, darlin’, go on,” my husband urged, and I felt a physical wave of revulsion. I didn’t want to touch it. I had the irrational thought that if I never touched it, I could deny the reality of it being in my living room, sitting there halfway between the sofa and the plasma television I’d bought Deke for Father’s Day.
Eager to show me what was inside, Andy darted forward and sprung the latches. He couldn’t quite manage the heavy lid, so Deke reached past him and pulled it open.
Inside the box was packed with small boxes and velvet pouches and bags and rolls of silk and satin. Deke grabbed the first sack and pulled it open, pouring the contents into my hand. Diamonds. Each one as big as a walnut. They were cool, like the earth they’d been buried in, but each one flashed with a fire that scalded me.
“They’re real,” Deke said. “We tested them.” He and Andy exchanged a conspiratorial giggle as they reached for more sacks, poured more jewelry onto the floor. One box held tangles of gold chain heavy enough to anchor a yacht. Another yielded what looked like a Celtic cloak pin.
“Look Mama,” Andy said, rummaging through the plunder and pulling items out willy-nilly. “A crown.” He put a bejeweled golden circlet on his head. It was so big it slipped down his head and over his eyes. Deke took it off him and put it on his own head. “You’re a king, daddy,” Andy said, laughing. Then he dived back into the sacks and boxes to see what else was there.
