The Lunch Money Treasure: A Smoochie Adventure

By Gary Rivera

Who doesn't love a mystery! Especially when a reward is guaranteed for solving it. What if you are looking for a treasure that was buried twenty years ago, and you are hoping to find the treasure in order to help two lost loves reunite? What if the only clue you have is four words, you are starting your search in a new environment with only your closest friends to help you for fear of risk and public ridicule, and you have no idea of the identity of the two lost loves? What if you are an 11-year-old girl who will be starting middle school in three days?

Those are the obstacles that Smoochie, an impressionable child starting Osceola Middle School, will need to deal with if she has any hope of reuniting two lost souls: a bully and a true love.

Join Smoochie in her adventure as she learns her own life lessons while searching for the lunch money treasure. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Outskirts Press
• Release date: Aug 31, 2023
• ISBN: 9781977268310

Gary Rivera

Gary Rivera, a father of two, is a first-time author. Although he has written many things in his life, this is the first he has publicly shared, and hopes to have the pleasure of sharing more in the future.

Book preview

ONE

THE STORY

…and the bully made one last attempt to win back his love by giving her all the money he saved over the years while begging for forgiveness: Please take it, the bully said. Do whatever you think best; give it back to the kids but don’t hate me. Please forgive me. I’m not that person anymore. I’ve changed and there’s no one I care about as much as you. I’ll be alone if you don’t forgive me.

Although the bully sounded sincere, his true love’s feelings remained unchanged, Are you too ashamed to face the people whose money you took? She replied. You don’t get it—what you did… She paused before continuing. You don’t understand. I can’t forget what you’ve done. She walked away leaving him broken.

I can’t tell you what happened next, or how it was done, but it’s rumored the money was buried somewhere at Osceola Middle School. Maybe, if the money is found, it would be a sign the bully and his true love could start over. Whether the bully never fully made amends for what he’d done, or his true love could never find it in her heart to forgive him, it’s believed the money is still buried at the school. The only clue to finding the lunch money treasure is—find the triple square."

That is how Mr. Cavanaugh, a sixth-grade summer camp counselor, ended his story. My first thought, when he started telling his lunch money treasure story, was ugh! Buried treasure! Who tells stories like that? Does Mr. Cavanaugh, who told the story during the last hour of summer camp, think anyone is going to start digging holes to find a couple of dollars?

Mr. Cavanaugh is my favorite camp counselor. He is a thoughtful person and extremely attentive to all the kids under his responsibility. He does not teach at the middle school I will start attending next week, but I learned he has worked at Osceola Middle School for several years as a janitor. He also works at the summer camp each year because he says he wants to be a role model for students. He may be old but acts like a big kid whenever he gets the chance. He is always encouraging the campers to eat fruit, but I have caught him sneaking a candy bar when he thinks no one is looking. He tells jokes, loves telling stories about everything from his real-life experiences to who are his comic book heroes, and he loves talking about science fiction movies. He can talk about almost any superhero, or space movie a camper could ask him about, but I sometimes think he might be making up some of the stuff he tells us. He is always respectful to the campers and never takes sides when settling kids’ differences or when choosing sides for pickup games. He reminds me of a taller, younger version of my dad. He is a good-looking man with dark hair and eyes, and unlike my dad, he has all his hair, but I still think dad is better looking.

When summer camp started in June, Mr. Cavanaugh told us a story about how he grew up in the area, attended school in central Florida, and then joined the army after high school where he spent over ten years. While in the army he learned to be a mechanic and told us how he could fix anything from a broken jeep to a tank. After leaving the army, he decided to come back to his Florida hometown and took a job at the middle school. Although he told a lot of stories during summer camp, he never told us why he came back to his hometown or why he decided to work at the school. He mentioned—on more than one occasion—how he loved the last day of camp because it meant school would be starting. He said it with a smile—probably knowing the campers would boo him for reminding us we would start school in a couple of days.

Since some parents took their kids out of summer camp during the final weeks to go on family vacations, the last two weeks had about half of the usual kids attending, and there were about forty kids on the last day. My mom and dad preferred taking vacation trips before summer camp started so my brother, B, and I were always at camp during the last week. This was my second year at Camp Osceola, but my first with Mr. Cavanaugh as my camp counselor. I was starting sixth grade in the fall after graduating from Central Glades Elementary School in June, and enjoyed the days when Mr. Cavanaugh oversaw the camp activities. He said one of his camp responsibilities every year was entertaining the incoming sixth graders during the final afternoon at camp. Camp Osceola never schedules afternoon activities on the last day because most parents start picking up their kids around four o’clock, so Mr. Cavanaugh spends the time after lunch playing games and telling stories to the campers. Mr. Cavanaugh played one game of Simon says, (I lost in the first round) and hot potato, (I was third), and musical chairs, (I was fifth) and afterwards he ended the day by telling us the lunch money treasure story.

Although Mr. Cavanaugh is a storyteller, he never hesitates to stop and answer questions while speaking. His stories are funny, always interesting, and some of them are about his time in the army, and sometimes scary—he once told us a story when, as a soldier, he was left alone in the desert for several hours during Desert Storm.

He said the lunch money treasure story was his annual fare-well story for campers. The story was about two middle school kids who grew up in homes with parent issues and they met during sixth grade. They both forgot their bathing suits for a field trip and spent the day at middle school instead of joining their classmates at the community pool. They got to know each other, spent the rest of their middle school years together and fell in love. Unfortunately, the bully, who I am naming John at this point because I am tired of calling him bully, was picking on kids and taking their money. Mary, because I will not keep calling her bully’s true love found out, and John did not deny taking the kids’ money, and Mary never forgave him.

Although the buried treasure part of Mr. Cavanaugh’s story sounded lame, I was hooked when Mr. Cavanaugh talked about the two students who fell in love and broke up because Mary would not forgive John. If the story is true, why would Mary not forgive him if he had changed for the better?

I love fairy tales and happy endings. Mom and dad buy me movies like Snow White, Cinderella, The Nightmare before Christmas, The Little Mermaid and Shrek. I love it when the guy and girl end up together, and I also love musicals. While visiting my aunt a few months ago, we watched Mary Poppins, and I loved the songs even though the movie was old.

My dad is cool for an adult and is always buying me movies and reading me stories. He will occasionally let me watch some movies with him which mom might not approve of. There is never any blood in them, but mom would get upset with dad if she knew I saw them. When I told dad I liked musicals, we watched West Side Story together—a movie about two people from different gangs who fall in love. I enjoyed the movie until the ending when the boy dies and does not get to live happily ever after with his love. Despite all the great songs, and dance routines in the movie, the ending bummed me out, and then, dad tells me he wants to watch a movie with me about a play written by some guy named Shakespeare which the West Side Story movie was based on. I told dad I would let him know when I was ready for my next sad-ending experience.

It was now past five o’clock on Friday, camp was winding down, and my parents would be picking me up at any time. I wanted to get more information about Mr. Cavanaugh’s story because I had no idea where the buried money would have come from if John was taking it from the kids to buy himself lunch. More importantly, I wanted to know if John and Mary really existed, and if there was any possibility they could still live happily ever after. While campers started cleaning the campsite, I walked up to Mr. Cavanaugh and asked him where the money John offered to give Mary came from and why they did not end up together if he was sincere about becoming a better person.

Well, Smoochie, Mr. Cavanaugh said. I don’t know about your first question, but I have learned that life doesn’t always have happy endings.

Smoochie—that is me. My mom gave me the nickname when I was about three, and my family started calling me by it all the time. My dad loves giving family and friends nicknames, but mom, out-of-nowhere, comes up with Smoochie one day and the nickname stuck. It was a family-only nickname for years until B called me by it one day when he and mom picked me up from camp.

Osceola Middle School runs a summer camp for fifth through seventh graders, and B could not attend this year because he was starting high school in the fall. Mr. Cavanaugh knew B from prior summer camps, heard and loved the nickname, and asked me if he could call me Smoochie, and I guess I did not mind him using it.

After approaching Mr. Cavanaugh, to follow up on my questions, and asking if his story was real, he nodded his head yes and continued.

The bully promised himself he would win his love’s forgiveness. Although I can’t tell you where all the buried money came from, because he had been hiding being a school bully from his true love, he began defending students from other bullies. Unfortunately, the bully was never forgiven, and though she…I mean…he, kept apologizing to his love, she would not forgive him, and they never got back together. At some point the bully decided to leave things to fate. The money was buried and clues left at school in hopes that someone would find the money. The bully felt if anyone found the money then maybe it would be time to seek forgiveness again. I heard the story years ago and have been telling it since my first summer camp here. You know I love a good story—wait until next year because I’ve got a great one about the haunted woods behind the high school—but no one has ever told me they found the lunch money treasure, and I guess they never got back together. If I ever heard the treasure was found, I would include that as part of the story so students could pass the word on and the bully, if he still lives in the area, would look for his true love.

I had so many more questions to ask Mr. Cavanaugh, but parents were arriving to pick up their kids, and he had to leave to help with cleaning up the area and signing out campers. He left a volleyball so the remaining campers could entertain themselves.

After speaking with Mr. Cavanaugh, I knew I found a problem that needed fixing. John and Mary might still have a chance of getting back together if I found the money, and I needed to find it and let Mr. Cavanaugh know. However, I needed more information, and with Mr. Cavanaugh no longer available, I would need to speak with someone else. My options were few because summer camp was usually held at the middle school but moved to the community park for the last week of camp because the teachers needed to get their classrooms ready for the fall. There were no other school employees at the park, the junior camp counselors were mostly high-school kids going to camp for free while they received training, and the camp counselors, like Mr. Cavanaugh, were either supervising the junior counselors, cleaning up or signing out the remaining campers who were being picked up. Since mom and dad moved to Florida and bought our home right after B was born, neither of them attended middle school in Florida, and I would not be able to talk to my best friend Iris, whose parents knew everybody in town, until later because she had just returned from her family vacation and was not at camp. My only option was to wait until I got home and speak to B about what he might remember about Mr. Cavanaugh’s story.

TWO

THE MISSION

My brother’s name is Matthew, but I always called him Bro when I was younger and shortened it to B sometime after I started elementary school. My dad tried giving B a nickname, but he does not like using them—not even being called Matt—and I am the only person he allows to call him B. Mom says he tried stopping me all through kindergarten but was unsuccessful and eventually accepted it. I should have known I was going to pay for it eventually, and B figured it was payback time when he called me Smoochie at camp.

Mom picked me up from camp on Friday afternoon, and B was not home when we arrived—most likely hanging out with his friends. He often ate dinner at his friends’ homes on Fridays during the summer so I would have to wait until bedtime before I could speak with him. One of our neighbors, Mr. Williams, had a lawn and landscaping business and B asked if he needed help during the summer since he was not attending camp. Mr. Williams agreed to let B work for him, but mom and dad would not let B handle the lawn mower or anything with blades, even though B said he was responsible enough at fourteen years of age. Mr. Williams needed someone to clear the grass off the properties after he mowed the lawns and help clean the equipment, and B would also help dig holes and do planting for customers requesting additional yardwork. B never complained about the heat, but mom made him wear a hat and cover himself with suntan lotion. If B was not working with Mr. Williams, he was either playing soccer, volleyball, basketball, or video games with his friends. B loved playing video games but was only allowed to play them at home at night, after dinner and until bedtime.

Mom starts work earlier than dad and usually picks me up from camp or school while dad drops me off in the mornings. Dad spends time after breakfast reading B and me a story before taking us to school or camp. B loves horror stories ever since dad read us a book about Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, while I preferred stories like The Wizard of Oz. B could have applied as a junior summer camp counselor but would only receive volunteer credits, and he preferred to earn money working for Mr. Williams. Everyone in the neighborhood thinks B is a great kid, and he was popular when he attended camp, but he drives mom and dad crazy at times. He loves speaking to mom and