Treasure and Gold

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WHEN WE WERE kids, we used to go on adventures

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WHEN WE WERE kids, we used to go on adventures. They were ridiculous adventures, really. Mostly we pretended to hunt for buried treasure or try to find the door to another world. Dan would insist that the door would lead us to a better life, kind of like Peter Pan. I know now that he only did those things to distract me from our shitty life. Our parents were too hard on us, abusive really but in a different way. In a way that left invisible scars.  

I let go of those childish notions when I turned twelve, but I guess Dan clung to them until the day he died. I think he wanted something to believe in, even if it was an outlandish notion of buried treasure or a dimensional doorway—anything to escape our past. 

I stare at the colourfully drawn map among the pile of crap Dan had left at my apartment. It had been tucked deep into his ratty backpack, and I almost mistook it as garbage. Until I saw the compass in the top corner. The one that I'd insisted we draw because it made the map more official. 

He kept it. 

That's the shocking thing. Somehow, through everything, he's managed to hold onto this ridiculous map for all these years. I'm sure all of our other drawings are long since decomposed or something, but not this one. It was creased and wrinkled beyond repair, but it was still our treasure map. 

My fingers brush the wrinkled paper gently. If I touch it any harder, it might dissolve, and that was one of the last things that I had of Dan from before the troubles began. 

Now I've taken to carrying it around with me. Why? I don't know. It's just another painful memory of Dan. 

"What is that?" 

As if caught doing something I shouldn't, I jump and shove the map back into my bag. Caleb stands right behind me, head tilted, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. 

"Um... it's nothing," I mutter, adjusting my bag. "Just something I found from my brother."

"Oh... right..." Caleb sits across from me and licks his lips. "Teresa told me. I'm sorry, Elijah." 

"It's fine," I say. My throat feels thick when I try to swallow. "It was only a matter of time... I mean, well, not that I wanted it to happen or anything. It's just that he had his demons, and I guess he was no longer a match for them." I clamp my mouth shut, silently berating myself for spilling my personal problems onto the staff table in front of Caleb.

"Are you sure you're okay coming back to work?" Caleb asks. He peers at me intently. "Your face is all red." 

"I'm fine," I snap, a little too harshly. "Sorry... work might be a good distraction, you know?"

Caleb watches me for a moment before reaching forward. His hand gives mine a reassuring squeeze. His expression is soft, vulnerable, which is strange for Caleb. He's always so chipper and sassy but never soft. 

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