This is a fictional story about a grandpa and his grandkids. There is light humor and fun dialog with the characters along with a twist.
* * *
The Master of Adventure
Twenty acres looked a lot bigger than I imagined. This was the first full week I’d spent on my newly purchased property. I bought a used but well-maintained 4-wheeler that would be useful to scout my land. There are hills and valleys and many trees, so getting around on the farm would be easier with the quad runner. It could be used to drag dead trees or brush away to clear a path through the land. It would be work, but this is where I plan to retire, so it would be worth the effort.
This land was a place to hunt and fish, but also to host family gatherings and
show the grandkids the fun they could have in nature without video games and smartphones. I never understood why we call them smartphones when they seem to make people dumber. At age nine and seven, the grandkids were old enough for a real adventure.
Tuesday morning, after a restful night in the old cabin and a hearty breakfast, I cranked up the 4-wheeler to take a tour of my property to see exactly what I bought. The quad runner had big, bold lettering on the side, with the name “Mud Slinger.” It had been modified with a rear cargo bed large enough to hold some rope, chain, shovel, and a few small tools. Better to be prepared than have to haul my tired ass back to the house to pick up something that was needed.
Planning to pick the perfect location to set up a deer stand, made my way toward the creek and followed it through my property. As I rode along the creek bed, clearing a few dead trees out of my path, an abandoned car came into view. If I hadn’t removed the dead branches concealing the ditch where it rested, it would have gone unnoticed. Old cars intrigued me, and this was an old Packard. The taillights could help pinpoint the year, but they were busted out. It was late and I was tired, so I took some pictures with my phone to avoid the climb down in the ditch. Yes, I have a fancy cell phone, and it has a camera, but I’m not sure how smart it is because I never ask it any questions.
Today was a good day. I cleared some trees from around the creek and
found an old car in a ditch. That could be an interesting adventure for me and my grandkids when they come over on Sunday. They’ll be here for three weeks, so I have to find something fun for them to do, preferably something outside. I did a little research on my computer to find out more about the old Packard. My best estimate is that the car was built in the late 30s to early 40s. It would take crawling into the ditch to get more information on its age. We’ll see what tomorrow brings. The Packard could be a haven for animals, raccoons, snakes, rats, and more. So I will have to be cautious with the kids when we go there to check it out.
Sleep came quickly as soon as my head hit the pillow. That’s what a good hard day's work does for you. My first week at the old farm flew by, and I was anxious to spend time with my grandkids. My son dropped off Billy and Sarah around 9:00 am on Sunday morning. Three weeks would give us plenty of time to have a bonding experience.
After breakfast, we loaded up the quad. Sarah and Billy sat in the truck
bed with the equipment. No seatbelts needed. Just hold on tight. My land, my rules. They laughed and giggled all the way to the creek.
When I pulled up next to the ditch, the kids jumped out of the quad
runner and ran toward the car.
I yelled, then held up my hand. “Hold up a minute. We need to get the rope.”
“Hurry up, Grandpa,” Billy said.
“Calm down, it’s been sittin’ there for over fifty years. It ain’t goin’ nowhere.” I
waved them back to the ATV, handed each of them a pair of leather gloves, and said. “Pick a hat,” pointing to the floorboard by the front seat. Sarah, the youngest, picked the cowboy hat. Billy was left with the John Deere cap.
I threw the rope over my shoulder and walked to a tree that looked sturdy enough to hold my weight. I wrapped the rope around the tree then called the kids over to show them how to tie the king of knots, a bowline. After we had one end of the rope was securely tied, I tugged on it, then carried the rest over to the edge of the ditch and tossed it on top of the car. It made a thud. A couple of squirrels scampered out of a window.
Billy started to wrap the rope around his waist. “Hold up one minute.” I waved my hands. “Where do you think you’re going?”
Billy still held the rope around his waist. “I’m going down in the ditch.”
“I’m lighter,” Sarah said. “I should go.”
Wiping my brow, I said. “Thanks, I appreciate your enthusiasm, but I need to
make sure it’s safe before you kids go down there.”
Still anxious to scurry down the rope, Billy said., “But Grandpa, you’re kinda
you know. . . “
I smiled. “You mean . . . smart, handsome and athletic?”
“No.” Sarah chimed in. “Old, Billy means you’re old. You break easier than we do.”
“Thanks for that explanation, Sarah.” I untied the rope from Billy’s waist. “You
always tell it like it is.” Then I reached down and gave her a big hug. “Go fetch a couple of those rocks.” I flicked my head toward the tree.
They each brought back three or four rocks. “What do we need rocks for?” Sarah asked with a puzzled look.
“To throw on the car and chase all the varmints out.” I grabbed a rock and threw it on the trunk.
Billy immediately picked one up and heaved it at the car but missed.
I laughed. “How could you miss the car?”
Sarah was quick to join in. “Yeah! Billy, it’s so big.”
I told them to toss the rocks like a horseshoe. They immediately started pitching the stones on the trunk. A couple raccoons crawled out and scooted away. With no other sounds coming from the car, I felt it was safe for me to descend down the rope to get a better look. Carefully, I climbed down into the ditch and stepped on the trunk of the car.
Holding the rope with both hands, I stomped on the trunk. Still no animal sounds, so I felt safe to proceed. I stepped on a mound of dirt next to the trunk and when I bent down to grab the handle and heard a hissing sound, and jumped back. The kids giggled at the top of the ditch. They got me. It was an old Grandpa trick, which I pulled on them many times, but it was my turn this time.
“Very funny!” I chuckled. “I’ve taught you well.”
“Come on, Grandpa. Open the trunk.” Sarah giggled. “Don’t mind the snake.”
I reached down and twisted the trunk handle, but it didn’t budge. No surprise. I stuck a crowbar by the latch to pop it open. After a few tries, it broke loose. The trunk creaked and screeched but resisted my attempt to open it more than a couple of inches.
“Hey, put some muscle into it, Popsy,” Billy yelled. “You want me to show you how?”
Popsy was the nickname they used for me when they were feeling spunky. “No, thanks, kiddo. I think this old man’s got it now.” I laughed inside, knowing Billy’s words were mine just coming out of a nine-year-old. It’s what they learned, and it’s how we bonded.
Just then, the lid broke loose, causing the trunk to fly open. It happened so
fast I fell backward onto a log. The adrenaline pumping triggered my reflexes to spread my arms, grabbing anything within reach. My right hand landed on a tree root, but once I gained my bearings, I realized the tree root was an old rusted rifle.
Without warning, the kids jumped down into the ditch. They could no longer contain their excitement. Hell, I was the same way at their age. Sarah and Billy climbed into the trunk. “Hey, Popsy! There’s all kinds of cool stuff in here.”
“Wait a minute!” I yelled. “Let’s be careful.” I held the mud-caked weapon
over my head. “I found a rifle.”
“Cool,” Billy said. “But it looks all busted up, so it’s not dangerous.”
“Maybe, but it would be hard to explain to your parents if something bad
happened.”
They started to rummage through the junk.
I pointed to the top of the ditch. “No, stop. Go up top. There could be old bullets in the trunk.”
They grumbled but crawled back up the embankment.
“I’ll look through the trunk and hand the stuff to you kids after I make sure it’s safe. We can take it back to the cabin and see what we got.”
I pulled out a suitcase, shoebox tied with heavy twine, and a woman’s hatbox and passed each of them up to the kids. I carried the old rifle up myself.
“Don’t open anything yet,” I warned them. “We’ll look at it when we get cleaned up.”
Once the ATV was loaded with our loot, we rode back to the cabin. They both rushed in to get cleaned up. This is one time they didn’t argue about taking showers. While they took turns in the bathroom, I gathered a few things from my bedroom that we would need. The grandkids came back into the big room, excited to get started. I had laid a tarp out, with all our treasures on top. This was a cabin, not fancy, but no need to make it worse with ditch dirt. “Which one do you kids want to open first?”
Sarah pointed at the hatbox. Billy didn’t care. “Just pick one. We’re burnin’
daylight.”
“Ha! That’s my line. Do you even know what that means?”
“Yes.” Billy grabbed the closest prize, the shoebox and shoved it toward me.
“You’re wasting time.”
“Good choice.” I picked up tin snips and cut the twine, then pulled the lid off.
No shoes, but it was filled with dust, dirty paper, and what I would call junk. “There’s more dirt than anything else.”
Sarah said, “I like dirt.”
“Yes, I know. I’ve seen you after coming back from the playground.”
With a quick survey, I could see there was nothing in the box that would be
harmful, so I let them check out the contents. After they picked through the stuff, I took a closer look. The box contained mainly store receipts and handwritten notes with the signature, Bonn E. The one thing that most interested me was a Babe Ruth baseball card. That’s a pretty good find, but when I looked closely, I saw the word ‘Bambino’ scribbled all over it. That probably made the card worthless, but we’ll see what the experts tell us. I took a minute to explain about the historic baseball player. Neither of them seemed impressed.
I separated the paper into stacks, one for receipts, another for handwritten
notes, and a third stack for miscellaneous. Later, when there was more time, I would look closer at these items, but we needed to open the hatbox and suitcase. None of us would get any sleep without knowing the contents.
Sarah pushed the hatbox to me. I opened it, and we found a woman’s hat. Big surprise! It looked like a hat I’ve seen in the movie, Great Gatsby. It was purple with a lace band and flower. Billy was clearly disappointed, but Sarah picked up the hat, proudly placed it on her head and started prancing around, holding it in the air and waving like she was in a parade.
I was getting tired and believed the kids were too, although they’d never admit it. Kids would keep going until they dropped from exhaustion, then sleep like a baby even if they were lying on a rock. I said, “Maybe it would be better if we left the suitcase until tomorrow.”
Reluctantly they agreed since the hatbox was more of a disappointment than a discovery. We headed to bed, knowing all of us would be up early. I flopped into bed, exhausted from our day. I knew I’d be up before the kids since getting a full night’s sleep for me was a rarity. There were quite a few things to occupy my morning, one of which was cleaning the rifle.
As I dozed off to sleep I thought about today’s adventure. From the pictures I’d taken, I was able to determine the Packard was a 1933 model, not the late 30s to early 40s as I had originally assumed. It was a fun day with the kids. They never once asked about playing video games.
* * *
I woke refreshed after a good night’s sleep. All I needed was to chase the grandkids around all day to tire me out. After a quick shower, I took a second look at the stuff we had. It was an interesting collection, which should keep them interested and anxious to find out more about them. I’m sure there was more to discover about the items we found.
Breakfast was ready when the youngsters stumbled into the kitchen. Bacon,
scrambled eggs, toast with butter and jelly, coffee for me and milk for them. After they gobbled down the food, I told them to take a second look at the stuff we found yesterday while I cleaned up the dishes. “Check everything in the shoebox and the hatbox, sometimes it’s easy to miss an obvious clue.” I threw the dish towel over my shoulder. “Be a detective.”
“I want to open the suitcase.” Sarah put her hands on her hips, like her mom.
“We’ll get to that. Be patient.”
A few minutes they rushed into the kitchen holding up a piece of paper, just
as I hoped. Both jumped and bounced with excitement. “We found a note.”
“That’s great! What does it say?”
Billy snatched the note from Sarah. “It’s smudged, but I think it says, ‘To my Gal, Love Champ.”
“That’s interesting.” I said, “Where did you find it?”
“It was stuck in the hat.” Sarah took the hat off her head and pointed to the liner.
“Later tonight, when there’s more time, we’ll see if we can find more information about all the treasures we found, especially the old Packard.”
Billy and Sarah sat by anxiously as I pulled the suitcase toward me and attempted to open it. As I expected, the latch was rusted shut, so I pried it open using a screwdriver and claw hammer.
Sarah leaned forward as I lifted the lid. “It’s empty. That stinks.”
I scratched my head. That didn’t make sense because the suitcase had some weight to it when I pulled it out of the trunk. I ran my hand over the top and bottom, but I didn’t feel anything odd. Then I noticed the suitcase looked bigger from the outside.
I looked at the kids. “It might have a false bottom.”
Billy scrunched his nose in puzzlement. “What’s a false bottom?”
I said, “You know, like a secret compartment.”
“Wow!” Billy’s eyes widened.
To gauge the depth of the bottom part of the suitcase, I held the screwdriver on the outside then the inside. There was a noticeable difference. It didn’t have the depth it should. That convinced me I was right about the false bottom. I slid the flat part of the screwdriver around the edge on the inside of the bottom panel. As I dragged it around, there was a snap, and the bottom sprung open.
Three objects–all unexpected, all old, all related lay in the bottom. Billy grabbed the long one and tried to play it like a flute. “Popsy, It doesn’t work. I had one in third grade, but this one looks a lot different.”
“It is different. It’s an Indian peace pipe, not a musical instrument.” I stuck my
hand out. ”Let me see it a minute.”
“I want the fancy hat,” Sarah shouted. “Tell me about the fancy hat.”
I held my finger up.” I will, but first, let me tell you about the peace pipe.”
Billy waved his hand. “Sarah, you have to wait to hear about that goofy Indian hat.”
“The peace pipe had spiritual powers and was a ceremonial smoking pipe.
Leaders from opposing sides would smoke the pipe to seal a peace treaty.”
Sarah squirmed. “Tell me about the hat.”
“That hat you’re wearing is an Indian headdress.” I looked at Billy. “It’s not a
goofy hat. The Chief wore it to show he was the leader.”
Sarah lifted her hands in victory. “I’m the leader.”
I laughed. “Well, times are different today, but in the 1800s, the leaders of
American Indian tribes were always a male.”
“Everything has feathers, even that hatchety thing.” Billy piped up. “What’s with all the feathers?”
“Ha! I’m not going to tell you everything.” I laughed. “That’s what you need to
find out. Look it up on the Inter Web. And by the way, that hatchet thingy is called a Tomahawk.”
Tonight after supper we would use the Internet to do some research on all the stuff we found. They will have loads of fun and not even realize they are learning new things.
“What do you want to do today.” I asked.
Sarah the impatient one, jumped up. “Can we go back to look for more stuff in the car?”
“That’s a great idea. We may have missed something important.” I stood and
walked toward the door. “Come on, let’s go.”
They nearly knocked me over running to the door. I chuckled inside to see how excited my grandkids were. Giving them an adventure was all it took to get their butts off the couch. They were sitting in the back of the ATV before I stepped off the porch.
“Come on, Grandpa. Hurry up.”
I lifted my old bones into the Mudslinger and started it up. Billy and Sarah
whooped and hollered as we drove off.
When we pulled up next to the ditch with the car, I told them not to climb in it
but check all around it to see if they could find anything was interesting. Billy was the first one to notice the holes in the door and fender.
“See those holes.” I pointed at the car door, “How do you think they got there?”
Sarah shrugged. “It’s an old car. Is it from rust?”
“Come over here.” I put my hand on Sarah’s shoulder. “See how the metal is
turned in all around the hole.”
Billy jumped down in the ditch. “I see it. What does that mean?”
“They might be bullet holes.” I hinted.
“Wow, maybe from the cops,” Sarah guessed.
Billy whipped around. “Yes, I think Sarah’s right. The guy driving the car could have been a bad guy who robbed a bank.”
“You can try to figure that out tonight on the computer.” The kids had become deeply invested in the research to learn about history as I had hoped. “Keep looking to see if there’s anything else worthwhile.”
After about ten minutes more of searching the car, I decided that we found
everything worth finding and told the kids we needed to head back to the cabin.
On the ride out to the abandoned car, I spotted an old deer stand some hunter built. There was a makeshift ladder attached to the tree, so on our way back, I slowed the ATV to get a better look. The deer stand was just a platform, mounted between a few branches, and it didn’t look safe. I had some lumber at the cabin that I could use to beef it up for a kid’s treehouse, but I’d wait until tomorrow morning to tell them. It would be another surprise adventure they could have with Grandpa.
After supper, Billy and Sarah were hunched over the computer screen looking up details on the Indian artifacts. Over the next week and a half, they researched the Internet to learn more about all the treasures we found.
When he made a discovery, Billy yelled. “All the stuff is from the Chickasaw
Nation.”
Before he could finish, Sarah yelled, “And the feathers they use are from eagles.”
“That’s cool,” I said. “What did you find out about the tomahawk?”
“The hatchet part is animal bone,” Sarah explained. “like from a horse.”
They spent the whole evening reading about the American Indians. When
bedtime arrived I had to pull them away from the computer.
The next morning after breakfast, I told them I had a surprise. “We’re
going to be busy today with a new adventure.” I could see the excitement on their faces. “Go out to the ATV. I’ve got some boards piled in there.”
“What are we doing?” Sarah asked.
“We’re going to build something.” I didn’t tell them anymore until we pulled up to the tree, then I pointed to the ladder. “How about we build a treehouse?”
We spent the day sawing and hammering boards to reinforce and renovate the platform to make it a proper treehouse. It would take a few days, but it would be another memory.
In the evenings their fingers tapped away on the computer learning new things about the treasures we found. I gave them a few hints about gangsters in the thirties. It wasn’t long before they discovered Bonnie and Clyde and the Barrow gang. They learned Bonnie’s middle name was Elizabeth, which could explain the note signed by Bonn E. Clyde’s middle name was Chestnut, but he told everyone it was Champion. The note signed by Champ was found in the woman’s hat. The clues led the kids to believe the car was stolen by the famous gangsters. The bullet holes in the car sealed the deal for them, but it didn’t prove anything.
On our last evening together, I sent Billy and Sarah down to the root cellar to get some vegetables for our dinner. After a few minutes they both walked back in with big grins on their faces.
Billy said, “We got you, Popsy.”
They found the Amazon boxes and receipts from all my purchases.
“You’re busted, Grandpa.” Sarah held the receipts in the air. “You bought all the stuff we found in the car on Amazon.”
“I got you.” I let out a big laugh. “Well, most was bought online, but some came from garage sales.” I pointed and wagged a soup spoon at them. “You learned a lot this summer.”
“Yeah! We learned Grandpa is a jokester,” Billy quipped.
“No argument there, but you learned much more.”
Sarah stood with her hands on her hips. “Like what?”
“Old cars, Indians, gangsters, fancy hats, baseball, rifles, old luggage with secret compartments, tree houses, root cellars, and the bullet holes.” I folded my arms and looked at the kids. “Would you have searched the Inter Web for any information on that stuff if we hadn’t found it?”
Billy kicked at the ground. “No, having the stuff made it a game.”
Sarah jumped up. “We like games.”
“I know, so do I. This was a fun summer, and Grandpa got you to use the Inter Web for the right reason.”
“So was everything we found fake?” Sarah tilted her head and gave a puzzled look.
“I bought the tomahawk, peace pipe, headdress, and Babe Ruth reproduction card online. The luggage with the secret compartment, hatbox, and hat came from the farmer’s barn down the road, so those are old. I wrote all the notes you found. The rifle was one from my grandpa, so it’s pretty old as well. But the most important and most real thing we found was the good time we had.” I saw big smiles spread across their faces.
“You’re right, Popsy. We did have a great time.” Then they both held up their
arms like they just won a race.
“I am the master. Say it.” I held my arms in the air. “Grandpa is the master.”
In unison, they muttered, “. . . you are the master. . .”
I shook my head. “Come on, a little more enthusiasm, please.”
They both threw their arms up and bowed as they shouted. “YOU ARE THE
MASTER!”
Dinner that night was the best. We talked about our summer adventures and
What we learned. They were so excited to have all the treasures we found and packed them up to take back and show their mom and dad. They didn’t care that the stuff was purchased online.
The next morning my son came by early to pick up the kids. As they gathered their stuff, I told them to friend me on The Facebook so we could stay in touch.
“Grandpa.” Billy used his serious voice. “You always mess up names like when you say, Inter Web, The Facebook and The Amazon.”
“Ha!” I scratched my head. “I do that cause it makes you laugh.”
Sarah smiled. “It is funny, sometimes, the way you talk. But it makes you sound silly.”
“I don’t mind sounding silly.” I rubbed my chin. “Tell me what you think you
know about the Amazon?”
Billy chimed in. “That’s easy. Everybody knows Amazon is where you buy
things, even you. That’s where you bought all the stuff for our summer adventure.”
“That’s true, but here’s another thing to look up on the Internet when you get
home. Search for, The Amazon instead of Amazon and let me know what you find out.”
Billy smiled. “Finally, you said Internet instead of Inter Web. I guess you can
teach an old dog new tricks.”
I laughed as they walked out the door. “Just, look it up. Remember, I AM THE MASTER.”
