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Authors: Joan H. Young
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my brain for threads of the story. Those envelopes held cash
which gullible women placed there thinking they were supporting orphans at the
Three Branch … something.
Well, I'd gone this far. I looked
around and saw no one. The envelope was not sealed, so I probably didn't have
to worry about being found out if I was careful to replace everything the way I
found it. I slipped my thumb under the flap. Inside were two twenty-dollar
bills, two fives, and seven ones. Behind them was a folded and wrinkled sheet
of lined notebook paper. I replaced the cash, and opened the paper. On it, I
saw the following:
Obviously this was the work of a
child. However, $57.00 was quite a lot of money to hide away in the
woods. It seemed to suggest something more than a game. The code was a simple
one, known to anyone whose children had played with cryptography at all. Even so,
I couldn't translate it without making a key. I pulled a tablet from my
backpack, and using the pencil again, copied the figures exactly. Then I
replaced everything in the denim bag. It took me a few tries to throw the bag
through the hole, but I quickly learned that the rock made this task easier,
giving the bag some weight. I hadn't unwound the tangle that held the twine to
a twig, so I was hopeful the owner of the stash would not notice the intrusion
on his or her privacy.
This tree was only about a quarter-mile
from my house, just off one of the many old two-tracks that led into the swamp.
I followed it back to East South River Road, and then turned southeast,
reaching my house in just a few minutes.
I set up a pot of coffee, and while
it brewed, I tore a page from the tablet and wrote out the key that would crack
the coded message:
With my large midnight blue mug,
the one with cream and brown glaze dripping down the sides, filled with fresh
coffee, I sat down to translate the page. When I was finished I had the
following two lists: Important, Fun. In the Important list the following words
were crossed out with dates beside them: notebook, paper, backpack, jeans,
jacket, angel, new tire. Below that, not crossed out, were: washing machine,
sisters.
The list headed Fun contained three
items, none of which were struck through: skateboard, baseball glove, X-Box.
My first reaction was that this
must be a very determined young person to be saving money for such a long list,
and secondly I thought it sad that he hadn't bought anything from the fun list.
Except for the angel, it seemed like a list a boy would make. I finished my
coffee and headed for the living room. My plans were to spend the day attaching
board-and-bead wainscoting around the walls, which I'd painted a light
Wedgewood blue, with one end wall a slightly deeper shade. The wainscoting was
going to be white. I'm handy with tools, and except for big projects, I was
trying to do as much of the work on my house as I could without help.
As the day wore on, thoughts of the
boy with the bank in the hollow tree kept crowding into my mind. The dates
beside the entries led me to believe he'd been keeping money here since last
fall when he'd bought school supplies and clothes. I wondered why he'd
bought a tire-for the family car? The angel had me completely stumped, as did
"sisters."
I thought school was still in
session, and I called a friend, Adele, to confirm it. Adele owns a store in
Cherry Hill, the seat of Forest County. Her family business is Volger's
Grocery. She's a kindhearted and generous widow, but she loves to know
everyone's business. I didn't want to tell her what I had found, but I knew she
would have the information I needed. I punched in the number of the store.
"Volger's Grocery. How may I
help you?"
"Hi Adele, this is Ana
Raven."
"Ana! What are you up
to?"
"Working on my house. Say, do
you know what date school lets out? It must be soon."
"The last day is the 20th, the
end of this week. Why?"
I had to think fast. "Oh, I
might want to hire a boy to help me haul some
which gullible women placed there thinking they were supporting orphans at the
Three Branch … something.
Well, I'd gone this far. I looked
around and saw no one. The envelope was not sealed, so I probably didn't have
to worry about being found out if I was careful to replace everything the way I
found it. I slipped my thumb under the flap. Inside were two twenty-dollar
bills, two fives, and seven ones. Behind them was a folded and wrinkled sheet
of lined notebook paper. I replaced the cash, and opened the paper. On it, I
saw the following:
Obviously this was the work of a
child. However, $57.00 was quite a lot of money to hide away in the
woods. It seemed to suggest something more than a game. The code was a simple
one, known to anyone whose children had played with cryptography at all. Even so,
I couldn't translate it without making a key. I pulled a tablet from my
backpack, and using the pencil again, copied the figures exactly. Then I
replaced everything in the denim bag. It took me a few tries to throw the bag
through the hole, but I quickly learned that the rock made this task easier,
giving the bag some weight. I hadn't unwound the tangle that held the twine to
a twig, so I was hopeful the owner of the stash would not notice the intrusion
on his or her privacy.
This tree was only about a quarter-mile
from my house, just off one of the many old two-tracks that led into the swamp.
I followed it back to East South River Road, and then turned southeast,
reaching my house in just a few minutes.
I set up a pot of coffee, and while
it brewed, I tore a page from the tablet and wrote out the key that would crack
the coded message:
With my large midnight blue mug,
the one with cream and brown glaze dripping down the sides, filled with fresh
coffee, I sat down to translate the page. When I was finished I had the
following two lists: Important, Fun. In the Important list the following words
were crossed out with dates beside them: notebook, paper, backpack, jeans,
jacket, angel, new tire. Below that, not crossed out, were: washing machine,
sisters.
The list headed Fun contained three
items, none of which were struck through: skateboard, baseball glove, X-Box.
My first reaction was that this
must be a very determined young person to be saving money for such a long list,
and secondly I thought it sad that he hadn't bought anything from the fun list.
Except for the angel, it seemed like a list a boy would make. I finished my
coffee and headed for the living room. My plans were to spend the day attaching
board-and-bead wainscoting around the walls, which I'd painted a light
Wedgewood blue, with one end wall a slightly deeper shade. The wainscoting was
going to be white. I'm handy with tools, and except for big projects, I was
trying to do as much of the work on my house as I could without help.
As the day wore on, thoughts of the
boy with the bank in the hollow tree kept crowding into my mind. The dates
beside the entries led me to believe he'd been keeping money here since last
fall when he'd bought school supplies and clothes. I wondered why he'd
bought a tire-for the family car? The angel had me completely stumped, as did
"sisters."
I thought school was still in
session, and I called a friend, Adele, to confirm it. Adele owns a store in
Cherry Hill, the seat of Forest County. Her family business is Volger's
Grocery. She's a kindhearted and generous widow, but she loves to know
everyone's business. I didn't want to tell her what I had found, but I knew she
would have the information I needed. I punched in the number of the store.
"Volger's Grocery. How may I
help you?"
"Hi Adele, this is Ana
Raven."
"Ana! What are you up
to?"
"Working on my house. Say, do
you know what date school lets out? It must be soon."
"The last day is the 20th, the
end of this week. Why?"
I had to think fast. "Oh, I
might want to hire a boy to help me haul some
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