X Marks The Spot

“That’s a lot of land to dig up, Cap’n.”

I looked to my first mate as we stood at the ZENITH of the tallest hill on the small island, surveying it’s land area.

“Aye,” I replied. “But that’s why we have this.”

I held up the LOCKET, which had been passed down through my family from generation to generation. My great, great, great grandfather had won it off a GYPSY during the adventures of his youth. Rumor always held that the map inside led to untold treasures. No one in my family had believed it to be true, until I inherited it from my father. I had the UTTER conviction that this would be my claim to fame.

I wiped a RIVULET of sweat from my brow as the first mate and I consulted the locket’s map, and then headed down the hill, back across the BRIDGE, toward the foliage below. The map was pointing us to the northern end of the island, where the treasure could be hidden in any of a MYRIAD of possible locations.

We moved through the undergrowth, passing HYACINTH and JUNIPER bushes as we continued our journey. The sun was already starting to set, the blue of the sky giving way to the VERMILLION and DAMSON colors of sunset.

Reaching the northern end of the island, we found what we were looking for. An ORCHARD lay before us... and at the very center, a YEW and a WALNUT tree, intertwined to form a gnarled, twisted X.

“X marks the spot,” I muttered, trying to decide whether this was something manmade... or whether this was Mother NATURE alone. Either way, it didn’t really matter, I supposed.

Near the tree marker, we found a CAIRN that had been carefully constructed in a small clearing. On a makeshift tombstone, fashioned from a wooden plank, there was a picture of a KESTREL carved into it, an eagle FEATHER clutched in its TALON.

The mark of Captain ECHO, the infamous pirate who supposedly buried the treasure before falling victim to disease and insisting that his men bury him as well, beside his precious treasure. As the stories continued from generation to generation, rumors of treasure’s worth increased to the point where now it was anybody’s guess what was buried on the island.

The sun had almost set now, and my first mate and I were determined to make some progress before heading back to the ship for the night. We began to dig near the base of the trees as the glowing IRIS of the full moon revealed itself in the sky.

Then, we struck something, buried in the earth. We hurried to uncover the object, revealing a locked chest. Using the QUILL from my hat, picking the lock was a simple matter, and my first mate and I hurried to open the chest and feast our eyes on the treasures buried within.

Inside the chest were three things. An ACORN, a small carving of a STEEPLE... and a POSY inscribed into the lid of the chest:

“An acorn from my family home,
A church steeple so my faith won’t roam,
When it comes to treasures, to each his own.”

The first mate and I looked at one another.

“Well,” the first mate said, shrugging. “How should we divvy this up?”


(551 words)