There were only two days of vacation left for the Aldens, and they were determined to spend them both at the beach.
Benny and Henry were playing in the ocean, running around and splashing each other, while Jessie and Violet lay on their towel, reading. Grandfather sat nearby in a folding chair, resting peacefully with his hands folded together on his chest. In the sand next to him was a little transistor radio broadcasting the day’s baseball game. There were hundreds of other sunbathers around, and for the first time none of them showed any interest in Benny. The great mystery of John Finney’s treasure had finally been solved, and most people found the outcome more funny than anything else. It was yesterday’s news. It had already been forgotten.
Tom came back from the boardwalk carrying a large cardboard box. “Food’s here!” he called out. Benny turned quickly. He and Henry hurried over.
“Let’s see, now . . . a hot dog for Henry, a hamburger for Violet, a cheeseburger for Jessie, some fries with each of those orders, and of course one of everything for Benny.”
“Oh, boy, I’m starving!” Benny cried out excitedly, jumping up and down.
“What would you like first?” Tom asked.
“Ummm . . . the hot dog!” Benny replied.
Tom lifted one dog out of the box and handed it over. “There you go. Hey, James, your food is here.”
Grandfather pushed up his sunglasses. “Thanks, Tom. That should hit the spot right about now.”
Everyone ate quietly while they listened to the game and watched other people playing in the waves.
When Grandfather was finished with his hamburger, he reached alongside his chair to get his copy of the day’s newspaper.
“Did anyone see this?” he asked, displaying the front page. Right in the center was a picture of Winston Walker shaking hands with another man. Behind them was the old lighthouse where the town’s historical society was located. The headline underneath the picture read, MILLIONAIRE TO DONATE PROFITS FROM BOOK DEAL TO LOCAL HISTORICAL SOCIETY.
Jessie said, “Book deal? What book deal? I didn’t know he wrote a book.”
“He hasn’t yet,” Grandfather told her, “but he’s going to. According to the article, it’s going to be called Fool’s Gold and it’s going to be partially about his worldwide search for John Finney’s treasure. But mostly it’s supposed to be about the foolishness of spending your whole life chasing nothing but money.” Grandfather looked at the picture and shook his head. “He’s been offered half a million dollars for the book. Even when he’s not trying to make money, he still does.”
“Some people are just like that,” Tom said.
“Oh, and I forgot to mention that Jack Ford called this morning,” said Grandfather.
“What did he say?” Benny asked eagerly. He and the other children had grown fond of him during his short visit.
Grandfather smiled. “It was hard to tell. He seemed a bit . . . in shock. He mumbled something about Winston Walker paying off his mother’s house, and then buying her a new one. Then he bought one for Jack, too. They’ve both already been paid for. Jack didn’t know what to say. He was speechless.”
“It’s wonderful that Winston Walker kept his word,” Violet pointed out.
“It sure is,” Tom told her.
He had not only kept his word about Jack Ford, but also about giving something to the Aldens, too. The morning after finding John Finney’s box, a personal note from Winston came for the Aldens at Tom’s house. It said simply that there were four brand-new bicycles waiting for the children at their favorite shop when they got back to Greenfield.
Grandfather laughed. “Jack wanted to know what made Winston change so quickly. I told him it was because of John Finney’s treasure.”
Benny looked confused. “But . . . there was no treasure.”
“Oh, yes, there was,” Grandfather said wisely. “Only it wasn’t the kind of treasure Winston Walker was expecting.”
Benny didn’t quite understand what Grandfather meant, but Jessie did. “He found out what he had become, and he was given the chance to change it,” she told everyone.
Her grandfather jabbed a finger at her. “Exactly,” he said proudly. “So it looks as though everything did turn out for the best.”
“It sure did,” Tom agreed.
Benny finished the last bite of his hamburger and looked back at the ocean. He really wanted to get into the water again, but he knew he shouldn’t so soon after eating.
Then something caught his eye that made him jump up off his towel and run down there anyway—it was a bottle, bobbing back and forth in the foam.
He rushed in and grabbed it before the next wave could pull it back out. It was very, very old, much older than John Finney’s . . . and was that a small piece of paper with something drawn on it inside?
No, Benny saw after his imagination calmed down. The bottle was no older than he was; it simply had been designed to look old. And the paper he saw wasn’t on the inside. It was the bottle’s label, pasted on the other side.
He brought it back to where everyone was sitting so he could throw it in the trash when they left.
“Another treasure map, Benny?” Grandfather asked.
Benny shook his head. “No, but maybe that’s okay.”
He laughed then, and the others laughed with him.
Two days later the Aldens were back in Grandfather’s station wagon, cruising north toward Greenfield, headed for home. |