“Shhhh!” ordered Jack.
The hatch in front of Jack was extremely simple. Framed in old wood, it was unadorned and dusty. The wood, dark with age, carried stains and drip-marks. Just beyond the envelope, a black button — bigger than a doorbell — was screwed into the back wall of the hatch. Two coiled wires led from the left side of the button to a small hole in the top of the hatch.
His fingers stiff, Jack nudged the envelope a half inch. It moved easily. He withdrew his hand about an inch and then moved his fingers forward. This time he brushed the envelop back towards himself.
“This is just weird — why would there be a letter in this hatch, up on a porch roof, under a laser?” asked Jack. “Doesn’t that just seem like a bad thing to be messing with?”
Neither Ben nor Stephen answered, they just waited. Jack reached in quickly and pulled out the envelope.
“Cool — now open it,” said Stephen.
“Let’s get out of here — we can open it back at the house,” said Ben.
“Yeah, I like that idea better,” agreed Jack.
“Okay, let me get this back on,” Stephen acquiesced. He fumbled the hatch’s cover — the clapboard — back into place. He tried several times before he got it to latch. Satisfied, they made their way back down to the ground. The boys retraced their steps through the drainage gully and walked fast. The trip out had taken them almost thirty minutes, but they made it back in fifteen.
Jack stashed their wet clothes in a plastic bag and the boys gathered in their pillow fort with a flashlight and the envelope. Ben examined it carefully: it was sealed and yellowed, and showed a history of faint wrinkles.
“Should we rip it?” asked Jack. “Maybe we should steam it open.”
“What, are going to put it back?” asked Stephen.
“Too much thinking,” said Ben. He slipped his finger under one corner of the flap and tore down the side. He squeezed it open and peered in. Satisfied it contained papers, Ben slid the contents of the envelope down onto the sleeping bag.
They boys saw several hundred-dollar bills and a folded sheet of paper drop out of the envelope.
“Wow,” said Jack. He picked up one of the bills. “Series 1978. That’s almost as old as my dad.”
Stephen counted the rest of the bills — “Five, six, seven-hundred. Wow, what are you going to do with your cut?”
Jack laughed — “Same thing you’re going to do with yours: nothing. We can’t just suddenly have extra money. My parents will be a little suspicious.”
“What if we buy something and hide it?” asked Stephen.
“What good is that?” asked Jack. “Besides, you don’t know my mom. She finds everything.”
“Actually,” replied Stephen, “I’m kinda aware of that.”
Ben began to unfold the paper and noticed two words in neat, cursive script on the outside fold: “Thank you.”
“Why are they thanking us?” asked Ben.
“It’s probably payment for something,” said Stephen. “Why else would someone leave money in a secret hiding place?”
Jack held the flashlight as the three boys read the letter together. It was written in the same elegant script as the “Thank you” on the outside.
July 19th, 1991
Dear Traveler,
0. I’m sure you’re curious as to why this letter encloses money. And I’m also sure you’re wondering why a beam of laser light signals this location. My motivations will become clear if you read this letter carefully. But I caution you — don’t take my benevolence for granted. Any breach of my rules will lead to dire consequences. All loyalty will be rewarded. Let me now answer your questions.
0. In my youth, I assembled a wealth of specialized knowledge. Around the same time, I achieved financial wealth. Money hasn’t been a problem for quite a while. Because I had time and means, I was able to build this hotel. After it was completed, I realized that I wouldn’t always be around to protect my treasure; and I can’t keep pouring money into this place without getting anything in return. Also, I realized that there was no one person I could trust and I’d love to see this place stand for half of fifty years. Little by little, I developed this plan.
0. I’m offering this money as a bribe to you. All you need to do is press the button before July 19th and come collect each year — a private trust provides these funds and pays all the taxes. Money, and a copy of this letter, will appear in this location: your reward for this small puzzle. But you need to take care that nobody sees you coming here. Across the field behind you, the woods provide good cover. Approach the hotel from those woods, if you would. Like me, you would be best served if nobody saw you at the hotel.
1. If I tell you a bit about my life, you may have a better understanding of my motivations. About ten years ago, I lost my wife. May she rest in peace. Bereft, I set my mind to assembling a definitive library of my experience. Avocation became determination, and I focused my energy. Almost to the exclusion of everything else, I concentrated on documenting and preserving my knowledge. Limited health forced me to rush at the end, and there are several areas I need to expand to make my opus complete.
0. In case you’re wondering — there’s nothing in this hotel that anyone besides me would find valuable. Although the documents I’ve assembled are incomplete, I did take the precaution of encrypting the information so only I could understand it. Maybe that will discourage you from doing something inadvisable. Betray my trust at your own risk. After a while, you’ll see the value in taking my bribe. Ask no questions and you’ll be enriched for doing almost nothing. Life hardly ever presents you with such an easy decision.
0. I can imagine what you’re thinking — “Is this a test?” Assuredly, it’s not. Many have tried and failed to discern the true meaning here. But don’t let that stop you from trying. Avarice will betray you. Aim high, but be ready to start at the bottom. Look to your heart when at the depths of despair.
1. I’d like to offer you some more advice — it may be shocking to you that while on that first step to a higher plane it was in fact the light itself that caused me pain. And that pain contained great power. My resolve told me to climb again until I could make my way back to my feet. Backwards is never the answer, I found. Awake in this new life I feel more alive than ever. And, as my wife would have said, “Only the first King’s Bishop treads without fear.” Live and let live.
1. I hope you’ll take this bribe, and my small bits of information. Any other questions you might have will have to go unanswered. My sincerest apologies for the cryptic nature of this letter. But, take solace in the fact that at first, level heads have patience while their hands part and meet again. A patient man can find his way out of any situation. A hasty man is almost never correct. Let’s consider this you r Job.
Jack spoke first: “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever read, except for maybe these numbers at the end.”
“Why? It makes sense to me,” said Stephen.
“But think about it — why would he set up a light, and power for the light and then aim it into the woods?” asked Jack. “So that some random person like us would see the light and then come looking? Why not just have no light, no money, and hire someone to guard the place.”
“Well a guard would cost a lot more,” said Ben. “And a guard also means there’s something valuable, so it might have the opposite effect. People wouldwant to break into a place with a guard.”
“Okay,” said Jack, “but still, why lure people to find your money, when you could just leave the place boarded up. If a guard is suspicious, isn’t a light and this weird letter even more suspicious?”