Piégé – The Search for Treasure
“X marks the spot,” said Lloyd, stopping near a thatched hut. There wasn’t anyone in it. Peter smiled.
“Piégé is cursed,” the old man had said, trying to scare them off the island.
“If he could return, so can we,” they laughed.
Peter had paid the old man a hundred dollars for the map. They would find millions more after all. They had found the inlet to the island easily enough, and tied the boat to a tree. The path wasn’t that difficult either. It had been marked by circles carved on tree trunks.
As they dug, they wondered what it held. The sound of metal on metal told them their quest was at an end. Bending down, the two of them pulled it out. There was no lock. They saw the glow of gold as they opened the lid.
“Cursed, my foot. He was only trying to scare us,” said Peter, laughing.
He never saw the spade that hit the back of his head.
“I ain’t sharing this treasure,” said Lloyd, picking up the chest and walking away from his partner without remorse.
When he reached the inlet after an hour’s walk, he saw that the boat was gone. It had been cut loose, and was now drifting away in the wind, too far for him to swim even without the chest.
Lloyd turned to go back to the hut, but he was shocked to see that the carved circles had now disappeared from the trunks.
“This is not happening,” he cried, cursing his luck.
The chest suddenly seemed lighter. When he opened the trunk, Lloyd saw that there was only a piece of paper there.
“Piégé is French for trapped. I warned you, didn’t I?” he read, just as the old man’s laughter echoed from between the trees.
(© Vinay Leo R. @ I Rhyme Without Reason,
7th August, 2017)