Liz Rowley

Grandma's Treasure

My grandmother passed away when I was twenty-six. She was a very typical grandmother. A soft, gentlewoman, feeding my brother Phineas and me only the best snacks. Fresh lemonade in the summers, and pecan pie in the winter, made from the pecan tree that grew in her backyard that shaded her pool, where for many years my tiny hands would become pruney, and I would be forced to come out of the water, the water that soothed us from the sun that baked our skin, in the dry Oklahoma heat. My brother Phineas who's a year older than me would run wild through the acre of land my grandmother's house sat on, playing with her Dobermans Black Jack and Gypsie. At night, our grandmother would tuck us into bed, but not before telling us about the great treasure that she buried when she was around our age. Year after year we would beg and demand that our grandmother would tell us the story of her buried treasure. In detail, our grandmother would describe to us, what the box looked like, and the willow tree that it sat under for over fifty years. As we grew older we stopped being tucked in and stopped hearing about the treasure that my grandmother had left behind. When I became an Adult my grandmother relocated to Atlanta to finish out her final days with my uncle. I was on vacation when I got the call. I had just visited the MOCA in Chicago, something my grandmother had loved doing, going to museums, talking about her favorite artists. It happened so fast. Pneumonia, and within just a couple of days it had taken her. My family decided to fly her body back to Oklahoma to be next to my grandfather, the way she would have wanted it. I remember when she passed, I dozed off on the plane, with her face so vividly in my mind, almost telling me how everything would be alright. Her funeral was beautiful, all of the people that loved her wore leis and celebrated her life singing and dancing to her favorite music. I gave her eulogy, and spoke about the treasure she would tell us about, not knowing if it existed, but that her existing was one of the best treasures we could have all had. My mother has asked Phineas and me if we could help clear her childhood home, something she wasn't ready to do. So we did. I had only been to my grandmother's home a handful of times once we relocated her to Georgia. As we entered it was as almost as if we were taken back into time. There were so many things that my grandmother hadn't touched in many years. Many times I would feel myself tearing up, and I would look over to my brother who shared the same sentiment. It wasn't until we started clearing her bedroom did our solemn faces change. Her dresser sat as it always did. Her favorite perfumes, a silver brush, and matching mirror all in the same place collecting dust from the years that they went untouched. The first drawer I opened smelled of cedar and was filled with her favorite silk scarves. As I took out her scarves, I found myself tying one around my neck. One by one I packed them into a box, and as I pulled them out, that's when a little black book fell out and onto the floor. "Phineas" I cried, as he was pulling her clothing out of her closet. "What is it?" He asked. He stepped over to me, and we just stared at this black moleskin that looked as though it hadn't seen light in many years. "Should we open it?" I asked. We both at that moment knew we had discovered something. This was the legend to her treasure. Our hearts raced as we flipped through the pages. "Do you think this is real?" I asked my brother. Finding it alone almost felt like it was all we needed. A few days after discovering the book I flew back to Los Angeles. Months went by and I kept dreaming of my grandmother, and the story she would tell us for so long. I would flip through the pages, and try to put clues together, scouring the internet for any information I could find. Finally, I called Phineas and talked to him once more about the possibility of this book being real. Within a week I had flown to Missouri, where my brother had met me by car. We ended up in a small town outside of Kansas City, where my Grandmother grew up as a child. We put together all of the clues we had found, with information that our uncle and mother had provided. As we drove into almost nothingness, we came across a plot of land that had once belonged to my great grandfather. The land was overgrown, with a house that had seemed to haven't been touched in many years. I could feel my palms become sweaty as thoughts raced through my mind. "Could this be it?" My brother parked his car just on the outside of the gate. "It's now or never!" I said. We combed through the tall weeds and made our way past the leaning house that seemed to barely stand on its own. There was a picture of the house that my grandmother drew on one of the pages in her little black book. As we kept walking, wondering what might we come across, snakes, or other wild animals, we kept going. An old barn sat to the west, the paint weathered and peeling from being abandoned for so long. We glanced over to the east, and before our eyes, stood a weeping willow. Just as the story was told, and as it was in her book. My brother with a shovel in hand raced me to the tree. Phineas immediately started digging, and as he kept digging we almost felt hopeless, hole after hole, until he hit something. We looked at each other. I dropped to my knees and started digging up the soil with my bare hands. With dirt under my nails and sweat upon my brows from the blazing sun, I had reached a box! It was a gold-tinted box, that seemed to have stood the test of time. My brother joined me on the ground. "This is it!" He exclaimed. We couldn't believe that after all of the years of being tucked in at night, and told about this treasure, that it actually existed. I struggled a little with taking off the lid, and then all at once we finally knew what had been buried for over eighty years. A paper doll set. A metal top, marbles and jacks, A Buffalo Nickel, a little metal car, a family photo, and finally a note from my grandmother. She had buried her treasure upon learning that she would be moving with her family due to the dust bowl. Work had dried up, and my great grandfather packed up his family and had moved them to Oklahoma to try to provide for his wife and children. She had vowed to one day come back for her treasures, and even though she wasn't able to, Phineas and I knew at that moment we had discovered the best thing that had ever happened to us. It didn't matter if what was inside the box had any monetary value, it was just nice to feel close to our grandmother again. Once we were back at our motel, we had Facetimed our mother to let her know what we found. She had tears of mixed emotions pouring from her eyes as we showed her the contents of the box. That night Phineas and I both had a very similar dream. Our grandmother stood hand in hand between us, as we walked to the willow tree. She kissed us both on the cheek and let go of our hands thanking us for bringing her home. We had both awoken to a beam of light glaring onto us through the window. We both felt like she was with us, and now she was finally at peace. My brother drove me to the airport, we decided to give the box to our mother, but I held onto her little black book which is now in the top drawer of my dresser, and now and then I think about how I will forever have my own treasure, and once I have my own child, how I will someday be able to share the same story with them, and perhaps in my own little black book, create a map to a buried treasure that my grandchildren will also one day be able to find.