Valley of the Scarecrow (6 page)

“Not anymore it’s not,” Kelly said, defending herself and once again sorry she’d even brought up the topic. So much for helping out; all she was accomplishing was making Dan mad at her. “And no one around here knows about it because that’s the way the villagers wanted it. They wanted all memories of what they’d done to die with them, I think. Makes sense to me, anyway.”

“And your grandfather swears this shit is all true?” Dan asked, looking her straight in the eye. It was his no-bullshit stare and Kelly knew he wanted nothing but the absolute truth. “Your ancestors killed a priest and abandoned the whole community, leaving behind everything,
including
a possible fortune in harvest loot?”

“That’s what he said, yeah.”

“And you believe him?”

“Yeah. I do. You would too if you’d been there. I don’t know exactly what happened in Miller’s Grove, but something sure did. I’ve never seen my grandfather so afraid in all my life.”

“Okay, I believe you.”

“So do I,” Lizzy said, “but I still don’t see how this helps. You’re not saying we should go on a treasure hunt for this lost gold, are you? That’s crazy talk…isn’t it?”

“Why?” Kelly said. “If Joshua Miller’s treasure is real and more importantly, if it’s still there, why wouldn’t we go after it? Even if there isn’t much there, it’s probably more than enough to get Dan and Rich back on their feet. Maybe even enough for me to start my restaurant.”

“Will there be enough for me to open a hair salon?”

“One way to find out. What do you think, Dan?”

“Shit, I don’t know. Sounds too good to be true; and even if it is, someone must have found the gold after all this time. Besides, we don’t even know where to start looking, right?”

“I can find it,” Pat said, then looked shocked when everyone burst out laughing at him. “What? I can. Well, maybe not me. My dad. He’s a geography teacher, remember? He has a whole shitload of old maps and local charts down in the basement. Far as I know, they go back hundreds of years. If Miller’s Grove existed out in the backwoods of the state, I’m pretty sure we can find some record of it there.”

“Wow,” Dan said, warming to the idea a little. “Might be worth a look, I guess. Too bad your gramps didn’t just tell you where their old village was. Did you ask?”

“He’s not telling us squat. In fact, he freaked when I mentioned the gold. He made me promise I’d never try
and find it but what do we have to lose? Every last one of us is out of work right now. Well, Lizzy, Pat, and I anyway. Rich and you won’t be far behind us, right? So why not take a shot at this. If we’re wrong, big deal, we’ll turn it into a camping trip and drink a few beers. But if we’re right…”

Kelly left the sentence open-ended, looking around at her friends’ faces but finding it hard to judge their reactions in the flickering light of the campfire. For a while, the only sounds were that of the crackling logs and the silence was getting unbearable. Pat felt the tension in the air too, and snapped a few pictures while everyone stood around waiting for someone else to speak. Kelly ran out of patience first. “Well…don’t just leave me hanging here. You guys with me, or what?”

“I’m in,” Pat said straightaway. “I got nothing better to do, and I can probably get some cool pics out in the woods too.”

Rich and Lizzy looked at each other and both nodded. Lizzy smiled and said, “We’re in too. Might be a lot of fun!”

“Me, horny in a tent…’course it will be fun!” Rich said, receiving a punch in the arm from his girlfriend.

“Dan?” Kelly asked.

Dan wasn’t sure what to say. He wasn’t happy that the business Rich and he had worked so hard to build was in such dire straits they were being forced into something as insane and potentially pointless as this, but what other choice did they have? And hey, like Lizzy said—maybe it would be fun. At the very least, he’d get a chance to spend time with Kelly and maybe put things right between them again. That alone would be worth the trip. “Let’s do it, I guess. Can’t believe I’m saying that, but what the hell. A sorrier bunch of adventurers I’ve never seen, but
if it’s treasure hunting you guys want…treasure hunting it is.” Dan raised his bottle of beer in the air and offered a toast. “To Joshua Miller. Looks like we’re coming for you, buddy.”

“To Joshua!” the rest of the gang joined in, the five friends clinking their beers together on high and speaking in unison. Then it was time to drink and party, to laugh and plan things out. It was a night of hope and friendship, where each of them could secretly dream about finding the treasure and what they might do with their share when they finally got back.

None of them had any idea just how bad an idea they had committed themselves to, or the savage nightmare they were about to willingly walk themselves into.

The next day was a Sunday, and everyone had agreed it would be best holding off until Monday, when Pat’s father would be back at school and they’d have the house to themselves. He more than likely wouldn’t care if they used his maps in the basement to try locating Miller’s Grove, but he was a bit of a hothead and Pat and he didn’t always get along. Everyone preferred to just wait until Pat knew the house would be empty. Besides, with the amount of beer they’d all drank around the fire Saturday night, sleeping in and taking it easy had sounded like an excellent idea at the time.

Kelly had spent the day shopping with Lizzy, knowing she’d need a decent sleeping bag and some other camping gear to bring along with them as well. Dan had called and wanted to tag along with them but Kelly had politely turned him down, the stubborn part of her not wanting to give in to him too easily and wanting to send a clear message to her estranged boyfriend that he was going to have to work hard to get her back this time. Dan had taken the news okay and had promised to make sure Pat and Rich used the day to get their camping gear ready to roll as well. Between them, they had three small tents, but so far no one had discussed the sleeping arrangements. Obviously Rich and Lizzy would grab one for themselves, but it was still too early to tell if Kelly
would let Dan in with her, or if he’d better get used to hearing Pat snore. She’d figure out the answer to that question on the fly and wasn’t too worried about it today. For now, Lizzy and she just enjoyed the day, getting their things ready and talking about what they might do with the money if they got their hands on the gold.

“Maybe Richie and I could finally get married,” Liz said, stars in her eyes at the mention of something she’d wanted for years already. “If he can get his business in the black again, and I can open my salon, there’s no reason why we’d have to wait anymore, right?”

“Absolutely,” Kelly said, smiling and giving her best friend a hug. “If anyone was ever more perfect for each other than you guys, I don’t know who. That’ll be great!”

“Totally agree. Rich drives me insane, but I love the crazy bugger. I don’t know what I’d do if I ever lost him.”

The smile fell off Kelly’s face, thinking of her own relationship problems. She tried to hide it but Lizzy saw her face and regretted opening up her big mouth. “Sorry, Kel. You know what I mean. Besides, you and Dan will be walking down that aisle right behind us. I know you will.”

“Who knows? I certainly used to hope so. Now, I’m not so sure. We’ll see, I guess. Let’s get you married off first though, okay? And you damn well better have me as your maid of honor or I’ll kick your ass. Got it?”

“Deal. Now let’s go shopping. I wanna pick up something sexy for the trip.”

“Lingerie? For a camping trip? You crazy?”

“Hey, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. Let’s go.”

Kelly laughed, but in the back of her mind she thought maybe she might actually pick something out as well; just in case.

When Kelly showed up at Pat’s house Monday morning at 11:00
A.M.
as agreed, the rest of the gang was already there, down in the basement poring over old maps and mildew-stained journals. Funny, because Kelly had made a deliberate point of showing up a bit early, eager to get a jump start on this important meeting. Obviously the rest of the guys were just as eager as she was to see if they could find the location of the abandoned village. If they ran into a dead end here, their dreams of finding Joshua Miller’s treasure might be over before they even started. That would definitely suck but there was no doubt it was a realistic possibility.

“Hi, guys,” Kelly said when she walked into the room. “Any luck?”

“Hey, look who finally crawled out of bed,” Dan said, winking at Kelly to show he was only kidding.

“About time you showed up.” Rich carried on the joke. “We thought you’d decided to cut us all out and had decided to keep the gold for yourself.”

“Ha ha…you two are so funny.”

“We haven’t found anything,” Lizzy said, disappointment clearly written on her pretty face. “There’s like…a billion maps left to look at.”

“We haven’t found anything
yet,”
Pat corrected her, walking over to an old yellow chart draped over the nearby coffee table. “We just got started. Glad you’re here though, Kelly. From what you told us, we’re looking for a map from the 1920s or ’30s at the latest, right. I’ve got one here, copyright 1929, but there’s no mention of Miller’s Grove on it.”

“Then keep looking,” Dan said. “Far as I’m concerned, the harder it is to find that village, the better our chances
the treasure might actually still be there. Know what I mean? If we have to look at every damn map here, that’s what we do.”

That was no easy task. Pat’s father had an entire rec room filled with boxes and trunks, all of them filled to overflowing with bits and pieces of Iowa’s geographic history—past and present—and sorting through it all wasn’t as easy of a job as any of them had originally thought. It was tough slugging, even for a group of people like they had. And time consuming as well; in fact, they were still searching through the reams of paper hours later when Pat’s father came home from school.

Jason Brannon was a tall, thin man with a full head of gray hair and a matching goatee. He’d been teaching high school geography for twenty-one years now at the same school and he was looking forward to retiring in another few years. Today, his final class had been over by 2:00
P.M.
and the last thing he expected to return home to was a group of kids destroying his life’s work. He’d been collecting these maps and charts since he was a little boy and had taken an interest in geography as a Boy Scout. Seeing everything scattered all over the tables and floor didn’t exactly make him happy. In fact, everyone could tell he was pissed.

“What in the hell is going on here?” Mr. Brannon yelled when he came down the stairs. “This better be good, Patrick.”

Pat bolted to attention. He knew his father only referred to him by his full name when the shit was about to hit the fan and he wanted to smooth things over before they got out of control. After all, they weren’t here trying to do anything wrong. Not that he intended to tell his dad what they were really up to, but he knew he had to say something, so he said the first thing that came to mind.

“Relax, Dad. We’re just trying to find an old village here in Iowa. My friends Dan and Rich are big geography buffs…like you, and we’re just trying to locate a few places off the beaten path for a camping trip we’re thinking about taking. I told these guys no one knew more about the state than you and we’ve been waiting for you to get home. Guess we got a little carried away looking around before you got here, sorry.”

Mr. Brannon looked from his son over to Rich and Dan. “You guys are into geography? Seriously?”

“Absolutely,” Rich lied. “This stuff you have here is incredible.”

“Yeah,” Dan joined in. “We’ve never seen anything like it. It’s gotta be the best collection of maps in Cedar Rapids.”

“The best in the whole state,” Mr. Brannon said, beaming with pride. “Even the museum at Iowa State doesn’t have some of this stuff. I’ve been collecting it since I was a kid.”

“That’s what I told them, Dad,” Pat said, knowing they had him leaning in the right direction. “I told them if anyone around here could find the place they’re looking for, it would be you. Glad you finally made it home.”

“You bet. Hope I can help. What are you looking for?”

“A place called Miller’s Grove,” Kelly said. “It’s not around anymore. My grandfather lived there as a kid and we need to find it. He told me it was a small farming community in the woods somewhere around here, but they abandoned the settlement in the mid-1930s.”

“Can’t you just ask him where it was?”

“Ahh…no, he died recently.” Kelly felt like a fool for lying like this but she couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Oh, okay. Sorry ’bout that. Let’s see then…Miller’s Grove, huh?”

“Yeah,” Pat said, stepping in. “Think you can find it? We’ve been looking for a few hours and can’t find squat.”

“That’s because you’re all starting in the wrong spot. These maps might take you weeks to scour over, but I have a system to keep things straight. Hand me that box of journals over there, Pat. Yeah, that box behind you.”

Pat did as his father asked, lugging over a heavy box filled with identical yellow leather notebooks. He set the box down on the coffee table and got out of his dad’s way.

“Thanks. See, what I’ve done is keep an ongoing list of the towns, cities, rivers, forests, state parks, counties…you name it; basically everything you can think of across the entire state of Iowa. Then I put them into these journals where I jot down study notes, or points of interest in those areas. You know, all the fun stuff. I also cross-reference names and places and try to keep an up-to-date record of what’s happening there. If Miller’s Grove existed, it’ll be in these books.”

The entire gang held their breath as Mr. Brannon started sifting through the various journals, trying to locate the volume filled with the letter
M.
They all knew that if Pat’s dad came up empty here as well, they were more than likely out of luck. A few tense minutes later, the geography buff cried out and jumped to his feet.

“Aha! Here’s something. Look at this. I don’t even remember writing this but it says Miller’s Grove was a small backwoods farming community famous for their unusually large corn crops. Doesn’t say anything about them abandoning the settlement, but there’s no further reference after 1936. Interesting.”

“Sure, Dad,” Pat said, “fascinating, but we already
knew that. What about location? Does it tell you where we might find it?”

“Nope. Not a word.”

There was a collective groan in the room, but just as the disappointment was settling in, Mr. Brannon held up his hand and said, “Wait a minute…I might have something here.”

“What?” several people said at once.

“Well, not sure, but I penciled in the name Oak Valley into the margin beside Miller’s Grove, but for the life of me I can’t remember why. Pretty sure I must have figured that was where the Grove was located though. No other reason for me to jot it down otherwise.”

“Okay,” Kelly said, her hope renewed. “Where’s Oak Valley, then? I’ve never heard of that either.”

“Me neither,” Dan said, coming over to stand by her side.

“I know exactly where it is,” Mr. Brannon said proudly. “Not far from here either, they just don’t call it by that name anymore. Oak Valley used to be huge. Thousands of acres of thick forests and sprawling fields, lots of rivers and lakes too, but the government kept chopping it up and handing out land grants to farmers and every little town that popped up on the map. It’s pretty much gone now, but the state did keep a big chunk as protected land. Today, all that’s left of Oak Valley is smack-dab in the middle of Rock Creek State Park.”

“Rock Creek?” Pat said. “Isn’t that over by Des Moines? We used to go camping there years ago, right?”

“That’s the place, yes. Probably one of the hot spots in the entire state for camping, actually, but that’s the big southern end of the park. You won’t find what you’re looking for there. The north end is real desolate. Wild, even. Night and day from the rest of the state park. Just
huge trees and lots of water. Probably a lot of fertile land up there for crops too, now that I think of it, but it’s a bit too swampy for any real commercial outfits.”

“Can you show us on a map?” Rich said, already reaching for one and handing it over Lizzy’s head to Dan, who passed it across the coffee table to Mr. Brannon.

“Sure, let’s see now…yeah, right about here.”

Everyone present crowded in to see where Jason Brannon had placed his finger on the map. Kelly had no idea of the scale of the map, but she noticed Cedar Rapids near his finger and knew it couldn’t be that far away.

“That looks pretty close to here,” she said.

“It is. It’s between here and Des Moines but you’ll need to head down toward Iowa City, then cut west to get there. Probably only fifty miles by the crow, but more like double that taking the highways.”

“Still, that’s only a couple of hours,” Dan said. “Nothing to it.”

“Exactly,” Mr. Brannon said, quite proud of himself. “And here’s another tip. Don’t waste your time searching inside the state park. Even the desolate areas will have been combed over by the rangers and hikers. Everything to find in there already has been, trust me. If you want to find Miller’s Grove, I’d go just north of the park. Same wild country, but no one wanders around in there. No reason to…there’s nothing there.”

Searching the map again, he’d tap his finger on a section, but then change his mind. After another minute, he still hadn’t made up his mind. “I need an older map. I wanna compare the two. Something from the 1930s, if poss—oh my God!”

“What?” Kelly said. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing. 1937. I just remembered a map I have of this exact area. Hunting and fishing map, laying a grid
through the middle of the state, and I’m pretty damn sure there are several close-up segments showing some of the parks. It has Rock Creek on it, I think, even though it wasn’t even an official state park yet.”

It took him several minutes of frantic searching where he made more of a mess than all of the gang combined but eventually he shouted, “Hell yeah! I got it!” Red-faced and tired from all his efforts, Mr. Brannon brought back to the coffee table a smaller map, two feet by two feet, on yellowed wrinkled paper that was clearly very old. “Now we’re talking. Okay, here’s the outline of what’s now Rock Creek State Park. All the camping and hiking and fishing takes place down here in this tourist area. Head north up toward…well I’ll be damned! Look at that!”

“What?” they all asked, leaning closer to get a better look. “Just above the boundary of the park, just like I said; take a look at what’s written there in pencil. MG with a question mark behind it.”

“Miller’s Grove,” Lizzy said, almost in awe. It wasn’t a question.

“Miller’s Grove,” Jason Brannon said, proud as a peacock. “I’ll bet my next paycheck on it.”