Lewis and the Black Book

Lewis and the Black Book

Lewis was a quiet boy of twelve, who had no friends and kept company with the trees and wildlife that inhabited the woods behind his house; for they were the only living creatures that understood him.

His family had lived in the house for nearly six months, since Lewis’ brother Arthur, had passed away. Arthur was the only person that understood Lewis’ “peculiar mindset” as their mother had called it.

Unfortunately, last autumn, Arthur didn’t wake up for school one Thursday, the doctor said he was sick, then, two weeks later, he was gone.

Lewis watched day after day as his mother stared out the window as if expecting Arthur to run by at any moment with his mitt and ball. Finally, Lewis’ father put the house in the suburbs for sale, and moved the family to the East Coast for a fresh start.

Lewis’ father thought it best to work from home, so he could make sure his wife kept busy and away from the windows. The exchanges were pleasant at first but as his mother resisted more and more due to the untreated depression of losing a child, Lewis began retreating to the woods, as the screaming matches became unbearable to Lewis’ sensitive ears, his vision would blur like a TV screen, until the violent outbursts started. Lewis didn’t mean to punch the walls, in fact he didn’t even understand why it happened; he just knew he felt safe in the woods.

Lewis’ father warned him not to go beyond the fence that led to their neighbor, Mr. Marshall’s yard, but there was four full acres to explore and Lewis did just that. He would collect feathers, leaves, rocks, and all matters of natural treasures, and hide them in a hollowed out tree near the edge of his parent’s property line.

On this particular day, Lewis was bringing a snake skin and a large acorn to his hiding spot. Just as he was about to turn around, he was greeted by a gruff man with white hair, white whiskers, hardened hazel eyes, calloused hands, and a blue flannel shirt.

The man pointed to the hollowed out tree and said “those are some nice trinkets you’ve got there; it’d be a shame if the critters got those trinkets.”

Lewis stood very still, unsure whether to run, or protect his treasures.

The man proceeded to pull out a cookie tin; from where, Lewis could not figure out.

“I’m your neighbor, Mr. Marshall. I have this extra container here and was wondering if you would like it for your trinkets?”

Lewis gulped and slowly nodded his head, yes.

Mr. Marshall gently kneeled down, with some effort, and passed the tin through the slot in the fencing. He slowly stood back up and turned to leave, then stopped.

“You know, I used to hunt for treasures and trinkets, myself; but that was a long time ago.”

Then, Mr. Marshall turned, passed into some trees, and disappeared.

Lewis watched the clearing for a time, then finally, scurried over and picked up the tin, before eagerly hurrying to his hollow and placing the items inside the tin. He gathered some leaves and placed the tin on top of them in the hollow, before walking home in time for dinner.

The next day, when the screaming from his parents began, Lewis quietly put on his shoes and headed for the road. There was not much of a shoulder, so Lewis stuck to the grass. He knew where he was headed and walked with determination.

Finally, he reached the mailbox that Lewis’ parents had pointed out as Mr. Marshall’s at least five or six times while driving by. Lewis walked up the long, winding driveway until a well maintained front lawn, a blue Chevy Silverado, and a log cabin came into view.

Lewis walked up onto the porch, noticing two rocking chairs; before opening the screen door and knocking, slowly.

A few moments later, Mr. Marshall opened the door.

“Th-thank you for the tin” was all Lewis could manage to get out.

Mr. Marshall leaned down and looked directly into Lewis’ eyes. “You’re welcome young man; would you like to take a seat?”

Lewis nodded his head.

Mr. Marshall silently went inside and a few moments later, returned with a little black notebook. He sat down in the adjacent rocking chair and thought for a while before speaking.

“Lewis, it is Lewis, right?”

Lewis nodded in reply.

“When I saw you in the woods yesterday, with your trinkets, you reminded me of myself as a child.

Lewis’ eyes widened.

“I loved trinkets so much; I became a professional treasure hunter, traveling all over, until I met the woman I would marry, in Paris. See, she was an art student, extremely talented.”

Mr. Marshall teared up at the mention of her.

“She came back to my family ranch in Omaha and we had a son. She continued to paint and sell her art while I ran the ranch, until my son was old enough to take over. He lives there with his family, now.”

Lewis continued to stare at Mr. Marshall, wondering why he was opening up like this.

“My wife wanted to move back East, so we did, and we had five beautiful years before I lost her.”

Mr. Marshall continued holding back tears, and had to pause for a moment to compose himself.

“When she died, I had her art appraised, as well as the remaining treasure from my hunting days, around twenty thousand dollars’ worth. I buried it on my family ranch in Omaha and spent three weeks writing the story of forty-nine years of marriage and a map to the treasure led by our story.”

Lewis’ jaw dropped.

“I have two requests to obtain this book. One, if you take this book from my hands, you walk down this driveway and never come back.”

Lewis furrowed his eyebrows in reply.

“Two, that you wait until you graduate; appreciate the story of two crazy kids in love, and spread that story to the world. Do that and the treasure is yours, what do you say?”

He held out the book to Lewis.

Lewis thought for a few moments, then slowly reached his hand up and took the book, before turning down the driveway, not looking back.