Saltwater Taffy by Eric DelaBarre

Author:Eric DelaBarre
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Middle Grade Fiction/Adventure
Publisher: Seven Publishing

TREASURE TIP

Telling the truth is easier than telling a lie.

19

A DIFFERENT MAN

Hidden in the bushes, under the rocks and beneath the fallen trees of the forest that lined Old Man Sheesley’s property, the crickets of summer had begun their nightly chorus. The air was still and warm.

It was approaching 10:30 p.m., and even though Jimmy claimed that his dad might wake up any second, he stood before me, digging his heels into our debate of should-we-stay-or-should-we-go? So far, I was outnumbered four to one. I agreed that a covert spy mission was more fun than actually talking to the man you wanted to spy on, but I stood my ground. I told them Old Man Sheesley knew something, and I was going back in, with or without them.

It took about ten minutes to convince everyone to come inside and listen to Old Man Sheesley talk about the lost treasure of Jean Lafitte—everyone, except Jimmy, of course, who said he was going home. I knew he was afraid, and that was okay; in fact, it was more than okay. The more I thought about it, the more I knew Sheriff Finn would knock on our door first to see if Jimmy was with us. Opening our bedroom door, Dad would only find the pillows we’d stuffed under the covers to make it look like we were still in bed. I was certain we would be grounded for the rest of our lives, so maybe it was a good idea for Jimmy to go home.

As we approached the mansion, we were surprised to see the back door propped open, welcoming us. Holding the doorjamb, I leaned forward and scanned the interior. There was no sign of Old Man Sheesley, his shotgun or Koya, for that matter. The place was still as could be. That made me nervous.

Gary, Zippy and Jaq were huddled behind me on the stoop like a team of mountain climbers, tethered together with a short safety rope.

“Where’s he at?” Gary asked in a hushed tone as he reached out and pushed my shoulder, challenging me for answers.

“Stop pushing me. I’m not the man’s babysitter,” I replied, stepping inside with momentary confidence. “Hello?” I called out, pausing for a second when it occurred to me that I did not know Old Man Sheesley’s first name. I turned to the others. “What’s his first name?”

“Old Man Sheesley,” Zippy said with a laugh.

“I can’t call him that.”

I took another cautious step inside the spooky house. “Sir? Mister Sheesley?” My voice echoed, but again, there was no answer. My mind started to race because this was odd. Where had he gone? Before I could answer my own question, a short, muffled scream shot up behind me. Spinning around, I saw that Jaq was staring at the bloody meat cleaver on the counter. I tried to gently explain the dripping meat cleaver, but she looked past me and screamed again. I spun around and saw Old Man Sheesley standing in the darkened hallway. He stepped closer, still cloaked in the shadows like some kind of spooky monster.

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