Young Zachary in his Quest For the Treasure of The Trolls

YOUNG ZACHARY

In his Quest

For the Treasure of The Trolls

Smashwords Edition

Copyright Pending

This story is fictional

Any depiction of a person or place is purely coincidental

TABLE OF CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER ONE

While in the front room, surfing the internet, I hear, EEEEK! As I’m getting up, to see what happened, I hear my mom shout, ZACHARY, COME IN HERE QUICK.

NOW WHAT, I think as I walk towards the kitchen. She can’t be ragging about the garbage; I took it out shortly after I came home from school. Sometimes I wish I wasn’t the only child, there are times when she needs someone else to pester. Unfortunately, Dad’s not here to fill that void; he’s still at work.

As I’m approaching the kitchen, she shouts ZAAACKARY, I NEED YOU IN HERE NOW!

Stopping in the kitchen’s entryway, I do everything I can to keep from laughing. There’s my mother, standing on the step stool, holding a knife, while an odd-looking mouse is gorging itself on a cucumber slice. My immediate assumption is that Mom must have been preparing a salad for dinner when a cucumber slice fell on the floor. What I can’t figure out, is how this animal entered the kitchen. Since it was a warm day, she had the outside door open, but the screen door was closed. When I see a small tear, in the lower right-hand corner of the screen door, I think, Dad, you’re in trouble now, you were supposed to fix that last week.

When she sees me, my mom says, WELL, don’t just stand there; DO SOMETHING. The mouse, or whatever it is, must be starving; I know it saw me walking towards it and it didn’t make any attempt to run away. I stop walking, when I hear my mom say, Don’t kill it; I don’t need another mess in the kitchen.

I look at her and say, Mom, please stop talking, you may scare it away.

Good, she says, maybe it’ll run outside.

She stops talking when I say, Or maybe it’ll run out of the kitchen and hide somewhere else in the house.

Doing my best, not to scare it away, I slowly walk towards the counter and grab a plastic bowl. With the bowl in my hand, I kneel down and slowly make my way towards the creature, who is almost finished eating the cucumber slice. As it takes another bite, I quickly put the bowl over it. For some reason, this didn’t even startle the creature, it just kept on eating as if nothing had happened.

After my mom gets off the stool, she says, Thank you, now take it outside and get rid of it. After you do that, put it and the bowl into a plastic bag, then throw the bag into the trash can outside; luckily tomorrow is garbage day. As I walk out of the kitchen, she asks, Did you hear what I said? I said get it out of here.

Looking at her I say, I will Mom, but first I need some cardboard. When I come back and slide the cardboard, between the bowl and the floor, I mumble, I’ve got you now, my hairless friend.

After putting a pot on top of the bowl, so the thing can’t get out, I quickly walk towards my room, to put my shoes on. Re-entering the kitchen, with a roll of tape, I kneel down, take the pot off the bowl and tape the cardboard to the bowl.

Before taking the creature outside, I look at my mom and ask, Are you sure you want me to throw this perfectly good bowl into the garbage?

She gives me a serious look as she says, Yes, I’ll never use again.

Hearing that, with the bowl in my hand, I walk outside. When I’m outside, I take a closer look at the creature; that’s trapped in the bowl.

As I watch it attempting to get out of the bowl, I mumble, Your kind of cute, in an ugly sort of way. As I walk towards the garage, to get the hatchet, I continue talking to the creature. I really don’t want to kill you, but Mom said… As I’m about to open the garage door, I say, WAIT, I believe she said get rid of it, not kill it. I look at the thing again, So, get rid of you, I will. There’s a prairie, a few blocks from here, I’ll get rid of you there.

When I’m about halfway there, I see an odd-looking figure, slowly approaching. The man, at least I assume it’s a man, was stooped forward and covered from head to toe. The man’s wide brimmed hat prevented me from seeing his face. As the person came closer, I did notice a black mask that covered his face completely, like a Ninja Warrior. Then, I noticed something odd about the face-mask; it has no slits for the eyes. I wonder if he has… A voice behind me interrupts my thoughts. The voice sounded familiar, but I wasn’t sure.

As I turn around, the voice says, Z, wait up. When he comes alongside, he stops and points to the bowl. What’s in the bowl? Finally, I realize who it is; it’s James, a fellow classmate. Again, James asks, Z, whatcha got there?

Ignoring his question, I ask, Hi James, what’s up? When James, hears rustling coming from the bowl, he starts tapping on it, I pull the bowl away while saying, Careful, if you make it mad, it might jump out and bite you.

James asks, Bite me? As James tries to tap the bowl again, I pull it further away. Come-on Z, tell me whatcha you got in there that could bite me? Then, with an inquisitive look, James asks, It isn’t by some odd chance a miniature hairless guinea pig; is it?

Not knowing what a miniature hairless guinea pig looks like, but refusing to admit it, I ask, James, what makes you think that?

James mentions, I’m searching for my guinea pig. It’s black, hairless and some say it looks ugly. He escaped this morning, at least I believe it was this morning. For all I know, it could have been last night. Anyway, I’ve been looking everywhere for him.

As I lift the cardboard off the bowl, for James to take a look, I think, SO that’s why it wasn’t afraid of me. I can’t wait to see my mom’s reaction, when I tell her about this. She had nothing to fear, but fear itself. UH, did I just quote someone famous?

Seeing the animal, James shouts, THAT’S HIM, THAT’S MY TEE-JAY.

While taking the bowl form me, James rambles on about how he missed his pet. Things got weird when, James started uttering cutesy things to Tee-Jay; things only a baby should hear. To keep from throwing up, I resumed thinking about who I quoted, now who was that guy? I shouldn’t go around quoting people, if I can’t remember who they are?

Taking the animal out of the bowl, James cuddles it while saying, Z, I’m surprised that Tee-Jay even had the energy to get out of his cage.

I’m more concerned about who I quoted then what James is saying, let’s see, I know the person is famous and I know it’s a male.

With, Tee-Jay, in one hand and petting him with the other, James looks at me and says, Tee-Jay rarely uses his wheel anymore. If I didn’t put him in his ball and rolled him around the room, he’d never get any exercise.

I blurt out, IT’S FRANKLIN D. ROOSEVELT THE 33RD PRESIDENT OF THE USA; at least I think it’s him.

James, with a puzzled look asks, Z, what’s Franklin D. Roosevelt got to do with my Tee-Jay?

I look at James and say, I was… Uh, I was… Oh, never mind.

James, realizing he’s late, puts Tee-Jay in his shirt pocket and says, Z, how can I ever thank you for finding him?

I jokingly say, A Benjamin (slang for $100.00) would be nice. When I see, that he didn’t appreciate my levity, I say, I’m just kidding.

Before walking away, James says, I wish I had a Benjamin; I don’t even have a Washington.

When Tee-Jay, pokes his head, out of James’s pocket, I say, WAIT, hold that pose, then I quickly pull out my phone and take a picture. I can tell James didn’t appreciate that, so I say, James, if you want, I’ll email you a copy? All I’ll need is your email address.

Hearing that James smiles and says, Z, that would be nice. Then he pulls out his wallet, takes out a card and while handing it to me, he says, Here’s my card, it’s on there.

As I take his card, I wonder, card? He has a card? Who does he think he is? When I see how classy his card looks, I continue thinking, maybe I should get some business cards.

After putting the card in my pocket, I ask, James, how much did these cards cost you?

Less than $10.00 for 500 cards, James proudly says, why do you ask? Do you like them? After I nod yes, James says, I got them at, ‘Cards for You’, if I’m not mistaken their business card sale in on until the end of the month. Now, I’d love to stay and chat, but I really have to go

I watch them turn the corner and think, the way he fusses over that animal, he needs a girl... WHAT AM I SAYING? Since Mierrie and I broke up, I’d like one too. With my luck, I’ll find one who, like that hairless guinea pig, also likes to run away.

With the guinea pig reunited with James, I decide to turn my attention to the old man. Realizing what I just said, I think, can I call him an ‘Old Man’ or is the proper vernacular now ‘Senior Citizen’; I have heard a news commentator refer to Seniors as ‘Age Challenged’. Anyway, old senior or challenged, his attire peeked my interest. When I don’t see him, I think, that’s odd, I could swear he didn’t pass us. If that’s the case, then where is he? It’s as if he vanished into thin air. Then again, if he did pass us, there’s no way he could reach the corner, let alone turn down Irving street.

When I get home, I walk into the front room and, with the bowl in front of me, I say, Mom, what you mistook for a rat is actually James’s pet, a hairless guinea pig.

Refusing to take the bowl, she says, I don’t care, it’s still a rat. Now, throw that plastic bowl in the garbage, like I told you to do. As I’m about to walk out of the room, she says, Better yet, instead of the outdoor trash can, throw it into the recycle bin. As she gets up, to wash the kitchen floor again, she says, Zachary, when you’re done with that, wash your hands in the utility sink; I don’t want rat germs in my kitchen sink.

As I throw the bowl into the trash can, I think, that’s a waste of a perfectly good bowl. While I’m in the laundry room, washing my hands, I couldn’t help but think; maybe I should get me one of those guinea pigs. It’ll be one way to keep her out of my room. On second thought, I better not. With my luck, the first time it gets loose, she’ll go ballistic.

An hour later, as I sit down at the dinner table my phone rings. Looking at whose calling I think, perfect timing. You couldn’t call five minutes earlier. After getting a dirty look from my dad, I let it go to voice mail. My dad has this thing about dinner being ‘Family Time’. Why he wants to know about my day is beyond me; I never ask him about his.

After dinner, I return the call, Larrie, what’s up?

Larrie responds with, Z, I’ve got some good news for you. Unlike those man-eating trees of Igor’s, I’ve got something better.

As he waits for me to say something, my mind goes blank. Then it dawns on me, he’s talking about that fiasco, when my Texas cousins visited and we searched for the ‘Scrolls of Andahar’ (you can read all about it in ‘Young Zachary and the Scrolls of Andahar’).

Without thinking, I mumble; Yeah, that was some weird adven…

Before I can finish, Larrie jumps in, Z, did you hear me, I said I’ve got a real mystery for you to solve. And, it’s not one of those piddling ones that you’ve been doing lately. When I don’t respond, Larrie blurts out, There’s a hefty reward. When I still don’t respond, with an irritated tone Larrie asks, SO, are you interested, or what?"

It takes me a moment, for Larrie’s mention of a hefty reward to register. When it does, I jubilantly say, YOU BET I AM. I’ve been looking for some way to put my gray cells to work.

A confused Larrie asks, YOUR WHAT?

Trying not to laugh, I say, I was referring to my brain Larry. Even you have gray…

Larry interrupts me with, WELL, now you can have your brain cells, gray or otherwise, solve the latest theft.

Now he’s getting irritating, so I ask, What theft? All I heard you say was mystery. You said nothing about a theft. Theft means the police are involved and that’s not always a good thing.

Larrie, questionably asks, I didn’t? I could swear I did. Whatev…

I interrupt him with, So, are the police involved? I remember the last theft… Wait, that was a dognapping. Larrie tries to say something but I don’t let him. Dognapping, theft, since it’s stealing, it’s the same thing; isn’t it?

As I stop talking to take a breath, Larrie says, Z, you should do something about that paranoia of yours. Then he enthusiastically, says, Z, a drumroll if you please. When I don’t play along, Larrie says, Okay, have it your way. After giving himself a drumroll, he says, I’m talking about the theft of the BTCH?

Thinking I have a bad connection I ask, I hope you didn’t say what I thought you said?

A laughing Larrie says, I’m not talking about a female dog. Here, let me spell it for you, it’s B-T-C-H.

Satisfied with his explanation, I say, SO! Now you’re my agent?

With a serious tone in his voice, Larrie says, Z, admit it, you could use an agent; when it comes to negotiating with women, you’re just no-good. When I don’t reply, Larrie continues, Remember Marian’s ring? You were so close to finding that ring. Too bad Marian found her ring before you did.

Hearing that, I think, that’s what I get for trying to impress her, with my powers of deduction, before settling on a fee. I’ll never do that…

Larrie breaks my train of thought, when he says, It’s time to quit sulking and find something else to occupy your mind.

I blurt out, I’M NOT SULKING, besides, how did you…

Larrie stops me with, Z, we can discuss that faux pas later. Right now, you need to swallow your pride and sink your teeth into…

Getting mad, I blurt out, I’ll decide what I sink my teeth into, COMPRENDE.

I hang up on Larrie when he says, I prefer the word Capisce, that’s C-A-P-I-S-C-E.

After calming down, I call him back, Larrie, for your information, in Italian it’s spelled C-A-P-I-S-C-I.

Before I say anything else, I think, at least I believe it’s spelled that way. Maybe I should have looked it up first? I better change the subject before he realizes that his spelling may be correct.

Returning to my conversation with Larrie, I say, Okay, I’ll bite, what’s a B-T-C-H?

To tell you the truth, I don’t know what it is, Larrie says. All I know is it’s an acronym. But for what…

I stop him with, YOU expect me to find something, but you don’t know what it is that I’m supposed to find, some agent you are?

Larrie replies, Z, it’s just a minor technicality that I’m confident you can remedy.

While hanging up on Larrie again, I blurt out, Remedy this.

Putting my phone away, I think, how does he expect me to find something when I don’t know what it is?

I look at the clock and decide to join my parents, who are watching the local evening news. As I sit down, the Anchorman is talking about tonight’s top story, the theft of a box containing a Biometricaly Technical Cybering Honer. Along with the device, the box also contained all the papers, including the schematic for the Biometricaly Technical Cybering Honer.

Forgetting, who’s in the room with me, I shout, SO THAT’S WHAT THE BTCH IS.

I cringe, when I hear my mom say, ZACHARY! What did you just say?

Realizing, my life hinges on what I say next, I answer her with, NO, NO, NO, it’s not what you think, the word sounds similar but its spelled B-T-C-H. It’s an acronym for that, I point to the TV, see they’re talking about the Biometricaly, whose first letter is B, Technical, whose first letter is T, Cybering, whose first letter is C, Honer, whose first letter is H. Put those letters together and they spell BTCH. Seeing, that they’re still not accepting my explanation, I tell them how I first heard about the acronym, Mom, Dad, earlier today Larrie called me and said someone or something stole the B-T-C-H (this time I spelled it so my mom doesn’t go off on me again). My guess is when he heard the acronym for Biometricaly Technical Cybering Honer, he did what you did and didn’t bother to hear the rest of the story, I glance at the TV again, which, unfortunately is now over.

Still, not quite believing my explanation, Dad says, Son, I gotta hand it to you, that was some fast maneuvering. For your sake, I hope it’s true. If not, Mom will have your head. Being a teacher, who majored in English, to her someone only uses swear words because they can’t properly express themselves.

As we watch the rest of the news, I can sense that my mom is still not satisfied with my explanation. Because of this feeling, during the sports segment, I get up and go to my room. After closing the door and making sure my mom isn’t listening in, I call Larrie. While waiting for Larrie to answer, I think, since she watched one of those parenting programs, she’s been trying to listen in on all of my conversations. What she expects to hear, I don’t know? I know I should be flattered that she cares, BUT she has a tendency to overdo it.

When he answers, I say, Larrie, can I come over tomorrow? We need to talk.

Sure, since tomorrow is Saturday, come over around twelve. After I acknowledge that noon is also good for me, Larrie says, Z, see you then and I forgive you.

As I hang up, I think, forgive me? Forgive me for what? OH, YEAH, he’s probably forgiving me for slamming the phone in his ear. Well, you can’t actually slam the receiver of a cell phone, it’s an old saying referring to angrily ending the call. Maybe I should call him back and do it again? Then again, I better not, I need some answers first. Now, I better stay in my room, at least for a while.