One Last Adventure

My grandfather was my best friend. We did everything together. I remember him telling me stories about his childhood, about how he and his father would go on all these little adventures. When I was younger, I loved to sit on his lap and listen to all the great treasures he found. How much was real, and how much was make-believe, I don’t know. That doesn’t matter. What matters is the excitement that he felt telling the story and the excitement I felt listening. As I got older, I was able to go on these adventures with him. I remember running around all over town looking for clues. He even paid people to be a part of the story; the crazy shopkeeper, the one-legged pirate, and the undercover treasure hunter posing as a school teacher. Everyone knew him. My grandfather’s name was August, so he nicknamed me September. On every treasure hunt, the town’s people would say, “there goes August and September.”

He always talked about how out of all the treasures he found, I was his greatest treasure. After my parents died, it was just him and me. Going on the adventures helped me to deal with the grief. He was my shining light in the darkness. He made me feel that anything could happen. No matter how bleak the world got, his adventures made it just a little bit brighter. Even as his memory started to fade, he still managed to remember our most extraordinary adventures.

A week ago, I buried my grandfather. It felt like my shining light had been extinguished. The last of my family. The last of our adventures, or so I thought. Today I received a package in the mail. It was from my grandfather. As I tore open the package, I could not believe my eyes. It was a small black notebook, filled with his handwriting and his drawings. As I scanned the first page, my eyes filled with tears.

Dear September,

I understand this is hard. The world is telling you to be strong. I just want you to know it’s ok to cry. It’s ok for things to be just a little bit harder than they were a few weeks ago. Things will get better.

Now, let the fun begin! How about One Last Adventure? In this packet, I have included my little black notebook filled with drawings and directions to the biggest treasure to date. Each page will send you to a different location. I will be here to guide you along the way. Don’t even think about skipping to the last page. As I have always said, patience my grandson.

Shall we get started?

Love

Grampa August

I couldn’t believe my eyes—one last adventure with my grandfather. As I stared at his little black book, I tried to imagine what secrets it held. What was the treasure? Was it money, gold, the treasure of the “pretend” school teacher?

I just knew I had to get started as soon as possible.

As I scanned the pages of his little black book, I could almost see him smiling as he is writing these words. Words that will live on for years to come.

That night while lying in bed, I was filled with excitement. I felt that same excitement when I accompanied my grandfather on our first-ever treasure hunt. One Christmas morning, when I was 6, I awoke to find a letter from my grandfather under my pillow, written in crayon. He had buried my gift in our backyard. The letter outlined many steps that I had to take to retrieve my gift. It also included a hand-drawn map, where X marked the spot of my gift. That was the first time I felt like I had become part of his great stories.

As I awoke the next morning, I jumped out of bed, grabbed his little black book, and scanned his first set of instructions.

September,

It’s hard to treasure hunt on an empty stomach.

Go to our favorite diner. Ask for Cynthia. Also, try something different. I heard the shrimp and grits are to die for!

When Cynthia hands you the check, tell her, “August thinks you are very dashing, but September thinks you are darling.”

As I say the words my grandfather told me, she smiles and hands me another letter. This letter leads me to the park, to the old oak tree with my initials carved in it.

Over the next few days, I received instructions from Pirate Pete, Jonesy -the shopkeeper (he was a bit sketchy), my grandfather’s barber, and yes, the “pretend” school teacher, whose name was Alice.

Alice gave me another letter, but this time, it came with a key. It was an odd-looking key. It was old and rusty. It looked as if it would open the door to a dungeon where I would have to fight a furious dragon and save the princess. Although, with my fighting skills, I am quite sure she would end up saving me.

I must have stared at that key for what seemed like an eternity. What did it open?

As I looked over the letter, it merely stated:

September,

Go home. Take a load off. Maybe read your favorite book.

As I sat down with my favorite book, a note fell out, with a message written in crayon. The paper was yellow and worn. I realized it was the same note my grandfather placed under my pillow from my first treasure hunt. I couldn’t believe he saved it all these years.

The treasure map led me to the same place as before, a spot underneath a massive rock in our backyard. As I grabbed the shovel and started digging, I realized that the treasure hunt was almost over. That part of my life, the part that I loved so dearly, was almost over. No more hearing his laugh, no more hearing the stories that seem to get more extravagant as time went on. All of it was just…over.

After digging for what felt like hours, I finally found the treasure. My mind raced as I tried to guess what it contained. As I examined the chest, I saw the old rusty lock. The key that I received from Cindy fit perfectly. When I opened the chest, I couldn’t believe my eyes. It must have contained thousands of gold coins. There was also a note that read:

September,

Maybe it’s time to revisit old shopkeeper Jonesy.

Walking into the pawnshop, I felt my grandfather smiling down on me. As I sat the chest down on the counter, the shopkeeper smiles and hands me an envelope. Inside was a letter from my grandfather and a check for $20,000. TWENTY THOUSAND DOLLARS!! I was speechless. My mind raced with all the things I could do with the money.

Then I realized this was his last letter. Our last adventure was over. Reading the letter, I examined every inch of the letter; the way he curved the S of my name, how his handwriting now seemed shakier than before.

Dear September,

Well, you did it. You found the treasure.

As big as this treasure is, I want you to know that you were my greatest treasure and my greatest joy. You were the best part of me, my heartbeat. I hate that I can no longer be with you and go on our adventures but trust me; I cherished every minute of them. Never forget these moments. Never take anything for granted. Know that every moment is unique. Know that I am with you always.

Always remember that I love you, and one day, we will meet again.

Love

Grampa August

As I scanned the last letter from my grandfather and looked at all his notes and drawings in his little black book, I knew that this was the real treasure. I knew that this notebook was a piece of him, a piece that I could keep forever. He came alive in these pages; his memories, his dreams. This small notebook was a priceless extension of him. Now it was an extension of me—a distinct part of his legacy, my legacy. The legacy of August, whose heartbeat was September.