The Torn Map
Max swiveled his head from right to left so he wouldn’t miss anything as they turned off the county road onto a driveway. On the right stood a two-car garage with a big farm house, surrounded by huge trees. A wide, comfortable front porch faced the road with a border of flowers surrounding the dark green lawn. Through the open window he could smell roses from a bush at the edge of the driveway. When the van pulled to a stop behind the house, a Blue Heeler trotted up, tail wagging. His tongue hung out of his mouth as he panted in the late summer heat.
“We made it,” Slim said. “Pile out.”
Max climbed out and looked around. Behind the big house stood a smaller building which looked much older even though it had a fresh coat of paint.
“Who lives there?” asked Brandon, pointed toward the smaller house.
“I do,” Slim said. “And so will you, while you’re here. That’s the old homestead house. It’s been fixed up and added to several times over the years. I painted it last week. I sleep there, and that’s where you boys and your grandparents will bunk.”
The back door banged open and Slim’s mom stepped out onto the porch. The smell of cooking hamburger followed her through the door. “Supper’s ready.” She reached up and pulled the rope on an old school bell which hung from the eaves. The bell clanged, echoing across the yard. “Come and get it!”
“Molly, you keep staring at me,” Slim’s dad said. “Do I have an extra eyeball in the middle of my forehead?” He grinned at the girl sitting across the table from him.
Molly felt her face turning red. “I’m sorry, Mr. Jay. I’m staring because you look so much like Grandpa it’s almost scary.”
He threw his head back and laughed then turned to look at the other man. “Well, I guess that’s true. I feel strange when I see your grandpa too. It reminds me of a funny mirror at the circus. He looks like me, only it’s a little bit off.” He looked around at the children. “‘Mr. Jay’ seems like a pretty fancy title since we are family. So we need to figure out what you should call us. We aren’t your aunt or uncle. We are distant cousins, but ‘Cousin Jay and Maggie’ seems strange.”
“How about Uncle Jay and Aunt Maggie?” asked Dorie.
“Yep, I like it,” said Slim’s dad. “Anyone have a better idea?”
“Sounds good to me,” said Slim’s mom.
“Good.” Slim stood. “Now we need to get your van unloaded and you kids need some rest. I suppose we could show them the clock shop before bed, if we have time.” He winked at his dad.
“I suppose,” Uncle Jay drawled. “I don’t know why they would be interested in a bunch of old clocks, though.”
“Oh, you two,” Aunt Maggie waved her hand at them. “You know those kids are dying to hear why you went to all this trouble to get them here. You go get them unloaded, show them your shop, then bring the discussion back here. I don’t want to miss anything. Besides, I have brownies, ice cream, and hot fudge for dessert.”
A much noisier crowd gathered at the table an hour later. Max lowered himself into a chair at the table, his mind swimming with the clocks he had just seen. After the kids unloaded the van in record time, Slim and Uncle Jay had taken them on a quick tour of the farm, including the clock shop in the back room of the homestead house.
“That place is amazing,” Brandon said. He sat down next to Max at the table. “Could you believe all of those clocks, everywhere you looked? And the ticking. . . .”
“Yeah,” Chad said, “I still feel like my head is ticking like I’m a clock.” He tipped his head side to side, in a rhythmic motion. “Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock.”
The other children joined in until the dining room overflowed with the sound of six “human clocks.”
Uncle Jay walked into the room and held up his hand. “Okay, it’s time to wind down this clock convention and get to the business at hand.” The noise stopped as the children’s attention shifted. He placed an old clock in the center of the table then turned and opened a drawer in the buffet behind him. When he turned back around, Max spotted some papers in his hand.
Grandpa Johnson whistled softly. “That’s a beautiful old clock.”
“It sure is,” Grandma agreed. “My parents had one exactly like it.”
“Justin said he told you about the map I found. We need to decide what to do.” He looked around at the group. “I can’t take time out of my work to follow up. That’s why I wanted you to come. You seem to have pretty good heads for figuring out things. So I guess the best thing to do is to start at the beginning.”
“Go ahead and eat,” Aunt Maggie said. She nodded at the bowls in front of each person. “No sense letting good chocolate go to waste.”
The children didn’t need another invitation and the sound of spoons clanking against the bowls filled the room as Uncle Jay explained. “Last week I went to Pueblo to get some parts for my tractor. While there, I decided to go to the Antique Alley. I stop there every chance I get. Howard, the owner, knows I repair clocks, so he keeps his eye out for clocks I might like. He had this one set back for me.” He pointed to the clock on the table. “It’s more than a hundred years old and he got it from an estate auction in Salida. Evidently it hadn’t worked in years.” Uncle Jay took a bite of brownie then continued. “When I got it home, I started looking at the clock. I decided to take it apart to clean it and see if I could figure out why it wouldn’t run. When I took off the face, I felt around the inside of the casing and found the tiniest bit of paper poking out.” He pulled off the front and showed the kids the spot. “I got a pair of tweezers and carefully worked it up and down, back and forth until the paper slipped out from where it was wedged.” Uncle Jay’s eyes sparkled. “This is what I found.” He held up an old paper.
The children all got out of their chairs and crowded around him. “What especially caught my attention were the initials.” He pointed to the bottom right-hand corner. “There are two sets of initials, faded with time, but the letters are clear. ‘ZLJ’ and ‘MBS.’”
“Wow.” Max whistled through his teeth.
“Yeah, that’s how I felt,” Uncle Jay said. “I came hollering up here to the house and scared everyone half to death by ringing the dinner bell. We use it for emergencies, too.”
“When I got here,” Slim said, “Dad was waving this paper and hollering, ‘I found Zach’s initials, I found his initials!’”
“I guess I did look kind of silly,” Uncle Jay said. “But it was so unexpected. When I showed the paper to Maggie, she said it looked like the same type of paper from the sheet found with Zach.”
Aunt Maggie nodded. “So, we all piled into the pickup, I didn’t even wash the flour off my hands, and we went to the bank and got the paper out of the safety deposit box.”
“Here it is.” Uncle Jay held out another small piece of paper. “They fit exactly.”
He laid the two pieces on the table and matched up the torn edges so the children could see how they fit. The rough paper, about eight by ten inches, had drawings, some so faded you couldn’t read them.
Several lines of words filled one side but they were pretty much worn off. The other side had a drawing which looked like a capital Y. In the bottom corner of each side were identical sets of initials.
“Ouch! Get off my feet, Chad.” Max glared at his little brother.
“But I can’t see.” Chad glared right back.
“Sit back down,” Uncle Jay said. “I’ve got the solution.” He went to the roll-top desk in the corner of the dining room and came back with a file folder and handed it to Slim, who gave each person a paper.
“I had copies made of the map,” Uncle Jay said. There’s too many of us to all look at it at once. Besides, it’s best not to handle this old paper too much. Make sure you keep track of your copy—we don’t want any of these floating around in the general public.”
Max examined his copy.
Silence filled the room until Uncle Jay spoke again. “Here’s my suggestion. We need to find out where this came from. Then we need to find out if anyone knows anything about it.”
“There isn’t much to go on.” Brandon held his map up. “There isn’t any town mentioned, and so many of the words are faded.”
“Right,” Max said. “So we have to find out where the clock came from. Can we start tomorrow?”
“Do you like camping?” asked Uncle Jay.
The children stared at him.
“Huh?” Max asked. He looked at Carly. She looked just as confused as he felt.
“What does that have to do with the price of tea in China?” Carly asked.
Uncle Jay laughed. “I think the only way we will solve this is to do what detectives call foot work.” Uncle Jay carefully rolled up the two halves of the map. “Tomorrow we’ll take your van and my pickup with the trailer to Pueblo where we can visit the antique store. Howard keeps pretty good records so I’m sure he can help us find the previous owner. Then Slim will go with you and your grandparents to Salida, or wherever this mystery takes you.”
“Aren’t you coming with us?” Molly asked.
“No.” Uncle Jay shook his head. “It’s a really busy time of year here. I’ve got too much work and I can’t leave the animals for that long.”
“Is the camper big enough for all of us?” asked Carly.
“No,” said Slim. “That’s why we are taking the tent. The guys will sleep in the tent and the ladies can have the fancy beds in the camper. How does that sound, Chad?” Slim asked. There was no answer. Chad had fallen asleep, his head resting on the map in front of him.
“I think we better go to bed,” Grandma Johnson said. “It’s been a big day, and tomorrow will be another one.”
“We’ll be one day closer,” Max said. “One day closer to discovering the rest of Zach’s story.”