Hidden Treasures

It seemed that Justin and Marko had been friends forever. Marko the quiet one, good in school and seemingly a very good boy. Unless he was hanging with Justin. Justin didn’t have to look for trouble, it just found him naturally. And he was a born leader. He could convince Marko that anything he wanted to do made sense. So, this odd couple became close friends, practically never seen apart.

It was a hot August day and the boys were bored. They were walking the old back roads just south of town when over the rise, they spotted an old man walking towards a small field. He seemed to be very focused on his direction and didn’t seem to notice the boys at all. Just for something to do, the boys followed him.

The old man walked to the edge of field where a giant weeping willow tree stood. He walked around it in circles, looking off into the horizon on all sides as if he was scanning to see if he had been seen. He must have circled a half dozen times before he sat down at the base of the tree.

“What do you think that was about?”; asked Justin.

“I saw something like that in a movie once. Military guys,…you know…Army guys. They scan the horizon looking for movement that they can’t see if they look directly at something. They move their eyes across the horizon to try and pick up a image of someone that may be following them…like a sniper.”

Justin sat there for a minute and watched the old man. He just sat there. As if he were waiting for a train or something. Justin looked at his friend again with that smile that told Marko that there was trouble coming.

“Lets go rob him.”

“Of what? He is just sitting by the tree. He’s an old man, what could he possibly have that we want?’

“Sometimes you don’t know until you take it from them. Surprises come from all places, dude. What, are you a chicken?”

Marko hated when his friend would get like this. He knew he was being manipulated, and yet he couldn’t stop himself from getting angry and finally agreeing to anything Justin suggested in moments like this. But, something was different this time. He sensed it. This would be a very bad thing. He had to convince Justin that it wasn’t worth the effort. He had to show him that it wasn’t worth the risk. Something about that man and that tree told the good part that was still inside of him that this would be a terrible mistake.

And then the old man sealed his fate.

The boys watched as the man stood and paced off a half a dozen steps away from the trunk of the tree. He knelt down and began pushing at the dirt with his hands. He was digging. He pulled at the ground and wiped away branches and leaves. Finally stopping, he reached into the small hole and pulled out something wrapped in a large canvas cover. He wiped away the dirt and twigs from the cover and slowly opened it.

“Lets get out of here, dude. Seriously, this is wrong. We shouldn’t be here.”; Marko pleaded.

Justin couldn’t take his eyes off the old man. What was so important that he had to bury it to hide it? He had to know.

“Listen, you are going to sit there and shut the hell up. He is going to hear us if you keep this up. Now just relax and watch him. Hey, what the hell is he looking at?”

Marko looked down to see the old man sitting back in his spot at the base of the tree. He had the package on his lap and was staring, again, out at the horizon. From this distance it was hard to tell, but there seemed to be a smile across his face. A soft look had come over him, as if he had been kissed by an angel. He seemed to be staring at nothing and at everything at the same time.

Finally, the old man looked back down into his lap. He removed the canvas cover and exposed a wooden box, about the size of a loaf of bread. The boys couldn’t tell from where they were perched, but it appeared to be very old. They could see where the stain had faded on the wood in areas that had been rubbed over and over again by hands clutching the box. They had never seen anything like it. The old man stared at the top of the box without moving for a very long time.

“Dude, really…we need to go. Lets leave this old man and his stupid box. What could be so valuable that he would bury it in a field, under a tree?” ; said Marko.

“I don’t know, but I am going to find out.”

“No, man. Leave this alone. This feels wrong.”

The old man lifted the latch and raised the lid on the box. He pulled things from the box and one at a time he looked at them and then back to the horizon. It was if he was searching the heavens for something…a vision. Something. And then, just before he would move to the next item, he would clinch his right hand in front of his chest ever so lightly tap his chest above his heart, lowering his head at the same time for just a moment.

“What the hell is he doing? What does he have in there? Dude, I got to know. We have to find out.”

Marko looked at his friend with disgust. He wasn’t sure why, but he knew that his friend was taking him down a horrible path. Something that was going to change his life. They had robbed people before. The drunks at night on their way home that would barely remember that they were mugged, much less who had done it. Old ladies for the hand bags on the street, the boy’s feet being faster than anyone who thought of trying to catch them. But, this…something told Marko that this wasn’t going to be a bag snatch. There was something strange going on here. And it shouldn’t be disturbed.

“Justin, look…lets just go. We will go back into town and wait for the someone to leave a window open or something. We could get something more valuable than what could possibly be in that box. Lets just get out of here, man. The dude is giving me the creeps.”

“Shut the hell up, you chicken shit. We are going to get that box. Mark my words.”

“But, why? What the hell could you possibly think you are going to find?”

Justin wasn’t listening anymore. He was just watching. Watching the old man gently remove items from the box. Treating each thing like it was precious. He got to a few items that he just looked at and then raised to his lips and kissed as he stared back to the horizon.

After about an hour, the man quickly put the things back in the box. After placing everything carefully back in it’s place, he reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled something from it. He looked through each thing, gently kissed it, and put them in the box. New items being added.

Justin about jumped from his skin.

“Did you see that, man? He is putting more treasure in there. It’s got to be jewels or money or something really cool. Do you see him kissing it? He’s so greedy that he kisses his money? He deserves to get ripped off. We have to see where he is getting this from. “

“What do you mean? I thought you just wanted the box? We just wait until he puts it back in the ground and leaves it and then we go and take it and get out of here.”

“No, man….we are going to follow him. We are going to find out where all this stuff is coming from. And when he isn’t looking, take it all. Man, the box is small. He could have a hundred boxes laid out around here. We have to follow him.”

The old man rewrapped the box in it’s canvas cocoon and paced off the steps back to the hole. He carefully placed the box back where it came from, covered it with earth, twigs, and leaves. Rising, he stood again to face the horizon and his lips moved. No sound made it to the boys perch.

“Dude, he is crazy. He’s friggin’ talking to himself. This is going to be so easy.”

Marko had his doubts.

The old man retraced his steps from the willow tree back to the road and started heading back from where he came. The boys followed at a safe distance and kept quiet. No more stops were made. No more trees to visit. No more holes to dig. The old man just slowly walked up a path leading to a tree line off the side of the road and entered a small clearing. There, hidden from view from the world on the road, was a small house…no more than two rooms total. It was well kept, pride was shown in this little abode. The yard was filled with late summer blooms and the grass trimmed and neat.

The boys made there way up to the house, to a window to peer in and get a look. The sun was going down behind them and they could just see as a lamp came on inside. The old man sat in his chair. There was a small couch, a table with one chair. A stove and refrigerator. They could just see into the doorway of what appeared to be a bedroom. No paintings. No television. No radio. In front of the chair was a stand, like a music stand, with a huge book upon it. The old man put on his reading glasses and pulled the stand closer to his chair and began to read.

The boys lowered themselves from the window and sat on the ground.

“Justin, what do you want to do? The man doesn’t have anything we want. You can see that, can’t you?”

“Dude, it’s what I don’t see that I want. He is burying things under that tree that he is bringing from here. Don’t you think he would hide it here, too? We just have to look. Here’s what we are going to do. We are going to spend the next couple of days following him. We will see what other buried treasures he has out there. And when we discover them all, we will wait for him to leave one morning, ransack the house and then take each treasure from each tree. We will get it all?”

“All what, man? All what?”

“That’s what we are going to find out.”

They did as they said. The followed the old man for four straight days. Always keeping out of sight. Staying out of his field of vision. But, he never varied. Always back to the same tree. His steps always the same. Always staring at the horizon. There wasn’t always new things to add, but always with the fist to the chest. For the life of them they couldn’t figure that out. Looked like he was pounding away indigestion or something. But, it didn’t appear he hit himself with any more force than a tap. And always the kissing of some of the treasures.

With each passing day of no new developments, Justin became angrier and angrier. His frustration fueled his intent. And he mumbled to himself what he planned. How he would get that box. And he would get what the old man was hiding in the house, too.

On the fifth day, they set their plan in motion. As always, the old man left the house just after lunch. They watched as he want down the path in front of his house and out to the road. Only this time, they didn’t follow him. They went to the back door and found it unlocked. They entered the house through the kitchen and found it just as sparse as their initial view through the window had suggested. Simple utensils, no expensive silver that they could pawn. They started tearing through cupboards and drawers looking for anything that had some value. They kept telling themselves that it had to be there.

They entered the living room and found it a barren as the kitchen seemed to be. There was a fireplace and the chair the man had sat in. On the stand in front of the chair was a bible. One of the big old ones, the kind passed down from generation to generation with all the ancestor information in it.

Marko lifted the cover of the Bible and turned it over. The family tree information was spread out in front of him. He used his finger to follow the names, the dates, the relative titles, and the timelines. He turned to the next page and stopped cold.

There was a line coming around the edge of the page, a continuation mark to tell the reader where to go for the next bit of information. The next limb on the family tree.

There was one name there.

Just one.

He turned back to the previous page and double checked what he thought he saw. Yes, all the names on this side of the page had birth dates and death dates. Turning the page again. The single name, it had only a birth date.

“Oh, man. Oh, man. This is so wrong.”

“What, dude? What’s the problem?”

“Man, he’s the last one. There isn’t going to be anymore like him. He’s too old to have his own kids. There is no one left but him. We have to stop this now, man. Don’t you see, he doesn’t have anything. He is just a poor, lonely old man. Please, man, lets just go home.”

Justin wasn’t moved. His anger and frustration had been building for days. So, he was the only one…the last of his family. That just meant he had it all. He never had to share with anyone. Well, he will share now.

“Listen, we are going to finish this. We are going out to that tree and we are going to take what he has there. And we will make him tell us where he hides all the other stuff he has.”

They left the house, trashed, with nothing they didn’t enter with. On the way, Justin found a small piece of tree trunk. He stuck it in his back pocket of his jeans. Just something to scare him with. To make sure he gives it up.

Approaching the tree from the backside, they saw the old man rising from his seated place near the tree. The box was wrapped up and was being readied to be placed back into it’s hiding place. As he took his first step away from the tree, he heard a twig snap and he froze. Slowly he turned around and came face to face with his pursuers.

“I was wondering when you were going to show yourselves.”

“You saw us? When?”; asked Justin. Marko was frozen. He couldn’t take his eyes off the old man. His face showing no signs of fear. He had to know why they were there, yet he didn’t seem afraid.

“Well, I think the first time was just over that hill there, behind that rock. You sat there and watched for a long time. Followed me home, that day, you did. Peeked in my windows, too. “

“You didn’t call the cops?”

“No phone, boy.”

“Who doesn’t have a phone? “

“Someone with no one to call.”

Those words hit Marko like a brick to the head. No fear. And unashamed of his life. A serious complication for what was about to happen here. He knew that his friend was itching for a fight. That he hoped the man would put one up. Marko had hoped that just the sight of them would leave the old man with such fear, he would drop his box and run. It wasn’t going to go that way.

“What is it I can do for you boys? I mean, you must have better things to do with your time than to follow an old man around from his house to his drea…ahhh, his tree.”

“What was that? What kind of tree did you say, old man?”

“Ahh, it’s just a weeping willow. Just an old willow tree.”

“No, I think you were going to call it something else. What was that? And why ‘weeping willow‘, what‘s that about?”

The old man sensed the ugliness. He knew that he was in trouble, but he thought that if he could just talk to these boys, they would let him be on his way.

“No, nothing else. Slip of the tongue. I believe the name comes from the arc in the branches representing a tear drop effect. But, I have my own ideas.”

“And what would they be, old man?”

“Well, because of the physical nature of the tree, it creates a tent effect underneath when sitting against the trunk. Like a cocoon from the outside world, a safe haven for dreamers and such. I believe the branches form a filter for the dreams, regrets, desires, and prayers of those that choose to sit beneath it and share with the tree. The tree and it’s branches weep for those things with rain drops slowly sliding down and rinsing away the weight that holds them down. Upon their cleansing, the dreams, regrets, desires, and prayers are lifted up to the heavens for the angels to care for. The tree is the delivery system. The mailman to what goes above. Do you understand?”

Marko felt his heart sink. This was bad. He knew from day one that this was going to be awful and he was right. He also knew, by the look on his friend’s face, there was no turning back.

Anger showed on Justin’s face.

“Understand? No, I don’t understand. You fill my head full of this prayer stuff to try and distract me. I want that box, old man. And you are going to give it to me. And you are going to tell me where you hide all your other treasures. Or so help me, you are going to wish you had.”

The old man never flinched. He raised the box to his chest and pulled it tight.

“No, now son…I am afraid I can’t do that. Nope. And I have no other treasures. All of what I am is in this box. For better or worse, it‘s what sustains me. And I will not let it go over threat or bribe.”

“Can’t? Did I sound like I was giving you a choice? And I got to know something else. What’s with the fist pump to your chest? What the hell was that about?”

The old man just stared at the boy. Not understanding at first what he meant. Justin tried to recreate it for him, clumsily trying to recreate the gentle gesture of the old man. Suddenly recognition filled his face.

“Oh, that. A carry over from my boyhood that I don’t even realize I do. I am grabbing memories.”

“Grabbing what?”

“Memories. Out of the air. And putting them back, close to my heart so I can carry them there. I don’t even realize I do it anymore. Must have seen me remembering. It’s when I do that. Just so I can hold on. I try to do it with new experiences, to put them there. And when I pull them out to look through, I have to make sure to put them back or I will loose them.”

Justin just stared. The answers, coming so calmly and with such feeling, angered him so much. He just wanted the box. No more talking. No more dream and prayer crap.

“Mister, I want that box. I need you to give my friend and I that box.”

The old man looked at Marko for a few seconds and replied; “I don’t think your friend here wants anything that I have. I think all he wants is to be miles away from here. It’s you that has your heart set on this. But, I tell you, I can’t allow that.”

Justin pulled the piece of trunk, a thick branch piece out of his back pocket and held it above his head.

“Mister, I don’t want to do this. I really don’t. But, I will. Put the box on the ground and walk away with your life.”

A single tear raised in the old man’s eyes. It streamed down his right cheek and he turned just for a moment to seek out his horizon…his vision place. He felt the warmth of the sun streaming through the hanging vine type branches of the tree strike his face. And a peace lowered onto him.

“No, son. I won’t do that. What I think is that it is exactly what you want to do. What is in here means nothing to anyone but me. I will not let it go to the likes of you. Do what you must, but I will never let it go.”

Justin stared. Marko looked at him with eyes pleading for him to put the club down and walk away. They needed to go. They needed to get far away from this man.

Justin stepped quickly to the old man and struck him twice in the head. He went to one knee, the box still in his hands, still clutched to his chest. He struck him twice more, driving him to the ground. The old man rolled on to his side and through his dying eyes looked one last time at his horizon. He smiled a brief smile. And as the last breath passed his lips, the leaves and branches of the willow twisted and turned, creating a sound like a cry. A soft cry…and then the rain started.

Marko stood frozen, in shock. He couldn’t believe what he had just seen. Sure, they had robbed before. But, they never hurt anyone. Sure as hell never killed anyone.

“What did you do, man? What the hell did you do? I can’t believe it went this far. I can’t believe you brought me here. I told you this was going to go bad. I told you that it felt wrong. But, you just had to have the box. Just had to know the secret. Well, there it is. Go get it.”

The box was still in the old man’s hands. He never dropped it. He never let it go.

Justin couldn’t seem to move. He couldn’t find the courage to reach down and take his prize.

“Oh, man. Don’t this beat all. You got the balls big enough to take a man’s life, but not his possessions? You have balls big enough to put me in this jackpot, but you don’t have them to finish this. What a bitch. How could I listen to you? What was I thinking? No, man…you are going to see. You are going to know why it was this man had to die.”

Marko reached down and pulled at the box. It wouldn’t budge. His anger at his friend…his murdering friend…was overtaking him. He stomped on the hands and wrists with his boots, hearing the bones breaking under his heal. It took many stomps, but the death grip loosened. As Marko reached down and pulled the box away, the leaves and branches shook again in the shower of rain.

And something escaped, a vacuum of air sucked from under the tree. And then the rain stopped and the leaves and branches stilled. And a ray of sun shone down through the limps onto the box.

Marko lifted the box to his chest and sat down on the wet ground. He stared at is friend while he opened the lid and then lowered his eyes to look inside. He was confused at first. A strange look came over his face. He reached in and pulled things from the box. There was a picture of a man and a woman…the man a younger version of the old man lying dead on the ground. He was in a uniform. She was beautiful. Both smiling, holding on to each other. He flipped the picture over and found the word “Her” on the back. He laid the picture down and found an envelope. Addressed to a woman, postmarked some Fifty years ago. He pulled the one sheet letter from the envelope and read;

“Dear Gretchen:

I, with God’s blessing, have lived through this God awful war. Oh, how I have missed you. My love for you has grown each and every day that I have been away from you. Your smile guided me through and is bringing me home to you. I will search forever to find you.

All my love,
…”

He put the letter back in the envelope and flipped it over. On the back of the envelope was the word “dream”.

The next item was a news paper article. Again, dated some fifty years ago, a wedding announcement. The bride, Gretchen, had married a man shown in the picture, not the man that lay before him. He turned the article over, and written on the side edge, next to an add for Chesterfield Cigarettes was the word “reality”.

Tears were streaming down Marko’s cheeks now. It was starting to sink in. He started to realize. But, he knew, out of respect for this man’s life, he needed to see it all.

Below the article were cards. Hundreds of small blue cards. All with a cross on them. All with notes on them.

Prayer cards.

All with the same name on it. Gretchen. Different prayer requests. Some for happiness. Some for health. Some for peace. Some for hope. And some just for her immortal soul. The treasures that were kissed, were just small blue messages to God.

The tears were really coming from Marko now. He looked on last time in the box and found a small black box. Inside, a ring. The sticker on the bottom of the case was in French. A ring brought back from a war, meant to seal a bond that had carried this man to safety through hell. And it sits in this box unused. Carried thousands of miles to be buried under a tree.

Marko stood, holding the small black jewelry box. He held it out to his friend, his future co-defendant, his partner in murder.

“Take it dude. It’s what you came for. It’s all that you can pawn. The only thing that ‘s worth money.”

Justin stared in shock. There had to be more.

“There is no way that this old man made me kill him for some stupid piece of jewelry. There has to be something else of value in there. Something we can sell. Or money. Something.”

“No man, this is it. There is still very valuable things in here. But, not what you are looking for. Not what you want. Nothing you would understand.”

“Valuable things? Man, I don’t get it, man. And what’s with the tears? Uh, what can be important but not valuable? What did he die for?”

“What did he die for? What did he die for, really? No, man…what did you kill him for? That is the question. He fought a war and lived. Was willing to die, but something said no…he was needed else where. He lost the one person that he cared about more than anything. And he lived. He spent his life caring about her, praying for her, and thinking of her every day. Saving his memories to his heart so they would never escape him. He was staring at that horizon looking for his dreams under the tree that knew how to send them where they needed to go. Don’t you understand you are asking the wrong question?”

Tears filled Marko’s eyes, sobbed caused his chest to heave.

“What was he protecting, dude? His life. Not the one you took, the one he carried with him everywhere he went. Dude, the question is what did you kill him for? You killed him for his love. It’s all he ever had. And he wasn’t going to give that to us. His love, man. That’s it.”

Marko hit his knees, looked up through the limbs swaying in the light summer breeze, and looked towards the horizon. His eyes pouring, his heart pounding. He said the only words that came to mind.

“Please forgive me.”

And, the rain returned, and the branches swayed, a sigh from the tree, and a release of a prayer…where it always needed to go.