(Photo by Joel Muniz on Unsplash)
The trees at the edge of the neighborhood had several caution tapes swinging in the wind. If I had to venture a guess, there were at least ten scattered around the trees, which seemed like overkill to me, but maybe this is where they were hiding something?
We hadn’t even begun digging yet, and my back was covered with sweat. I’d rather be hot than dig a half-frozen ground, but I’d rather not be digging at all. Why did we have to move into this stupid neighborhood? Why did this have to happen to my parents?
The three of us were seconds away from stepping into the dirt when Brady stopped suddenly, dropping the big shovel onto the ground as he held Ryanne and me back with his hands.
“Wait, what if this dirt is actually quicksand or something?” Brady said with wide eyes.
“You really think they’d go to the trouble to do that?” I said.
“You think they wouldn’t? You see what’s happening to our parents, they’re capable of anything,” Brady muttered, a twinge of hurt lining his voice.
Brady reached down for the larger shovel on the ground, but Ryanne stopped him. “No, no, don’t toss my dad’s shovel.”
Ryanne tossed the princess shovel onto the dirt, and we waited for this mysterious quicksand to take the shovel under the earth.
After three minutes of waiting in silence and the princess shovel staying in place, I said, “Good to go now?”
Brady shook his head. “I’m still not convinced; I mean, that princess shovel is really light. Maybe we should test something heavier?”
“Watch out!” A kickball rolled by us and landed in the dirt. A kid no older than seven years old ran up, sweat coating his face as his hair stuck to his forehead. He lifted the caution tape and ducked under, grabbing the ball as he stared at us with a weird look on his face. He shook it off and ran off, clearly not falling victim to the “quicksand” within the dirt.
I turned to Brady, “Good now?”
Brady waved me off, muttering unintelligibly under his breath while I grabbed the big shovel and began digging alongside Ryanne.
Brady watched Ryanne and me for more than fifteen minutes, the two of us silent as we moved heaps of dirt out of the way. I had a feeling we weren’t going to find any green orbs or anything out of the ordinary. There were at least ten trees in this small area, and probably 75 down the whole strip that separated this neighborhood from another.
“Are you going to help?” I asked, heaving as I picked up another shovel full of dirt.
“We only have two shovels. What do you expect me to do? Dig with my hands?”
“If it means getting this done faster, I don’t see why not,” Ryanne chimed in, dirt clinging to her clothes.
Brady bent down, using his hands to dig near a tree trunk. “Do you think anything is actually here, or are we just wasting time?” Brady asked breathless, his hands and fingernails caked with mud.
I plopped down on the ground in a heap. We didn’t even know what we were looking for. If we continued at this rate, we’d dig up half the neighborhood before we’d actually find something. If we did find anything, that is.
“Well, I still think we should go to the model home. I’m not sure if we’re gonna get anything out here,” Brady said.
Ryanne shook her head. “There’s gotta be cameras in there, and it’s probably locked up. How about the dog park? Do you think it would be there?
“Dogs dig holes all the time. If a dog dug up something that would be a lot of risk for them to put it there,” I replied with a huff.
“That’s a good point,” Ryanne said. She rubbed her forehead before adding, “How about the playground? I have noticed there’s a section where kids don’t play. Maybe we could check that out?”
“I think I can guess why no kid plays on that. That clown rocking horse is hideous.” Brady chuckled. The clown looked like any other ugly clown, with over-the-top makeup, bright red hair, and ugly clothes. But what made it worse was that morphing it into this rocking horse ride elongated its features and made it difficult to look at.
“Do you think something is under here, or do you think the fear of clowns could be driving the kids away?” I asked. I shuddered looking at it.
“I mean, it could be either. But I hate to leave a stone unturned. Don’t you think?” Ryann held a finger up before sprinting to her house without a word. She came back lugging her dad’s toolbox.
Brady kicked the clown rocking horse; it sounded hollow before it came to a stop. “I’m not sure what it’s supposed to sound like, but maybe we should take it apart?”
Ryanne smiled, handing him a wrench to unscrew the bolts. We’d be doing this neighborhood a favor by dismantling this ugly clown and throwing it away. After a lot of twisting the tight bolts, our hands raw and blistered, we managed to pull the clown part off. I expected to see mulch or even dirt, but instead, there was a metal tunnel several feet down.
Brady whooped, jumping up and down before he grew puzzled. “Where does that lead to? There’s no way one of us could squeeze into that.” Sure, we could maybe pop our heads down there, but our shoulders were another story.
I glanced down at the tunnel. If I’m right, the tunnel’s tentative path should go straight to those trees. Maybe we missed something back there?
“Knowing us, if we’d try, we’d get stuck, and someone would find out what we’ve been up to,” I said. “We’ll just have to find another access point to get into the tunnel.”
“And where do you think that is genius?” Brady mumbled, his hands crossed against his chest.
“I have an idea.”