Page 76 of Brim Over Boot
Hard as a stone and soft as butter.
Bruise it, and it doesn’t change color.
Yet dry, it becomes another.
What is it?
This one takes me longer. Several minutes, in fact. But finally, I think I have it.
Plums are a stone fruit with soft, purple flesh, like a bruise. Dehydrated, they become prunes. It’s gotta be Plum’s Grocers.
And just like that, I’m off.
I do find the next clue at Plum’s, and after that, I head to the antiques market and then the community center. Everywhere I go, I see other teams working to solve their clues. And it’s always teams. Adults or adults with kids. I seem to be the only person working solo. If there are others, I haven’t run into them.
I don’t let it get to me, determined to see this thing through to the end, whether or not I win. Which, let’s face it, is a long shot with so many participants.
Around noon, I stop for a few minutes in town, eating a quick lunch before moving on. It’s past the three-hour mark at this point, but the chest is still sitting below the statue, locked tight.
I keep at it for another hour and a half and am at clue number fourteen when I spot a familiar truck.
Colton’s. He’s here with Jackson and Ashley.
They look up at me as I pull my bike into the parking lot of the alpaca farm. My engine cuts out, and they go back to discussing what’s on their clue, but Colton’s gaze holds mine for a good long moment.
I head past them toward the shop where wool items are sold and folks can buy tickets to see the animals. I’m not buying any tickets today, but I hit jackpot near a display of scarves. A thick rope basket is filled with scrolls, and I breathe out a sigh of relief at seeing so many.
I grab a clue before glancing at the scarves again, remembering Walter could use a new one for winter. I pick one out in a blue I know he’ll like and head to the register to pay.
“Enjoying the treasure hunt?” the owner, Ms. Bellevue, asks. She flips the handmade tag over, checking the price on the scarf before entering it into the register.
“I am,” I tell her, wondering briefly if she remembers me from the one time I visited her farm when I was seventeen. I don’t ask, knowing it was long ago and she has plenty of visitors come through. “Have many folks stopped in yet?”
Ms. Bellevue smiles, the outsides of her eyes wrinkling. “Well, now, I’m not sure if I’m supposed to tell you that. But since no one told me not to, no. There haven’t been many. That’ll be twenty-two dollars.”
“Thank you,” I say, passing over cash as she bags my purchase.
“Mhm. You have a good rest of your day now. And good luck.”
I thank the woman again before exiting the shop. Colton’s group is still near his truck, whispering amongst themselves. I stash the scarf in one of my saddlebags before unfurling the next clue.
Wings incapable of flight.
Hurry you must but gander you might.
Heed, five are waiting.
What is it?
Wings incapable of flight. A flightless bird?
Five are waiting. Does that mean the final five clues? But why would they warn us, unless…
Wings incapable of flight.
Which means walking. Where do you walk with the intention of looking around?
Holy fuck.
