
If I had a dollar for every body I found before I was fifteen, I would have exactly one dollar. Which arguably isn’t much, but is significantly more than I think anyone would have expected. You can buy about four packs of gum with a dollar, which is also more than one might expect.
My name is Brandy. I’m your average fourteen-year-old teenage girl. I like reading, doing puzzles, watching true crime shows, and exploring the woods. My talents include playing the recorder and not dying. I excel in both.
That’s my best friend Riley. He enjoys trying to solve hundred year old mysteries and collecting teeth in the cookie jar we grabbed out of Mrs. Ronn’s garbage can. All kinds of teeth. Any teeth. He has at least four from a giraffe he met at the New York Zoo. He also has two and a half of mine. I have the other half. It’s a best friend thing.
This day, the day of our discovery my little brother was with us. His name is Timothy. He can count to ninety seven (refusing to count to 100 out of pure spite), can tie his shoelaces in fourteen different ways, and will not go anywhere without a metal saucepan on his head. He claims it will protect him from bird poop. I guess I really can’t find any fault in this logic.
But back to the story–I think it sounds a lot more exciting to say it was a dark and stormy night, but it was actually just your average second Tuesday in October. We were pushing our bikes home from school, about to reach the path through the Myrtlewood forest, taking turns saying a periodic element and president with a corresponding number.
“25.” Riley stated.
“Mckinley, Manganese. 39.”
“Carter, Yttrium. 16.”
“Lincoln-”
“He’s dead.” Timothy stated matter of factly.
“I was well aware. Lincoln–”
“How do you know his name?” He asked, turning towards me and scrunching his face so that his glasses touched the pan on his head. They clinked. “Do you know him?”
“‘Course not! He’s a president that died over two hundred years ago.”
“WOW! I’ve never met a dead president before!” With that, he tucked his head to his chest and flinging out his arms, quickly running the woods. Seven year olds are like that.
“You’ve never met any president!” Shouted Riley. “What makes this one so special?!”
“I CAN TOUCH THIS ONE” Timothy hollered back toward us, as he bent over something, no, someone..
I have never started running so fast in my life. Me and Riley threw our bikes into the ditch and raced to Timothy, who was now leaning over a slightly rotting corpse, holding the pan on his head with one hand and keeping his glasses on his nose with the other.
“Hello Mr. Lincoln. Thank you for your service.” He bowed deeply.
Now up to this point I was very sure of two things in my life. One, I could not scream. Two, I could not jump six feet into the air.
Today I discovered I was, in fact, wrong. On both accounts.
I jumped back, letting out a yelp of shock. Riley looked equally pale, swallowing hard and taking a step back.
“He doesn’t look very president-like. Aren’t they supposed to wear ties?” Timothy asked, scratching his nose. I would have to agree. The corpse was in a black ski jacket, half of a mask on his face, with death cap mushrooms growing out from the side of his mouth, like a little tusk. Similar to the elephant Riley got the teeth from at the Indiana zoo.
My bucket list for this year included 1. Show Riley Back to the Future 2. Make all A’s.
3. Train an army of squirrels. Nowhere in this plan did a dead body show up.
“What do we do?” Riley finally asked. Studying the body, I scowled slightly. I had plans tonight. This was terribly inconvenient.
“Call the morgue. See if they take walk-ins.”
He snorted, coughing sharply. “Yeah I’m sure that’ll work.”
Timothy proceeded to poke the body with a stick. It reacted how you probably thought it would react. Squish. Stellar.
“I didn’t think that would happen!” Timothy said happily.
“Maybe don’t do that again, Tim. I think we need to call the police.” Riley muttered, kneeling next to the body. The leaves swirled around us, the wind blowing much harder than it had before. The man’s hands must have been burned, the tips of his fingers more of a smooth lump than anything else. I nodded, rolling my eyes. I really didn’t have time for this, Jeopardy was on in ten minutes.
“I’ll run home and call them.” Riley finally said with a deep breath, as if to show that he was very brave and mature. He isn’t. “You two stay here. Do NOT let the body out of your sight.” Shouldn’t be too hard.
“Fine with me, chicken. Don’t take too long.” Riley rolled his eyes and ran out of the woods, grabbing his bike and taking off. Timothy remained next to the body, tapping the mushroom with his stick. The woods seemed empty, looming and dark. Very comforting.
“I thought all presidents were supposed to be old and wrinkly. This one looks like grandma’s tunafish, after it’s been in the fridge for two weeks and starts to taste like bananas.” Timothy said, his voice sounding disappointed.
“Timothy, never tell me what two week old tuna fish tastes like again. Why would you even–”
“It was fuzzy.” He was tapping around with the stick, but this time something was different.
Clink! Something beneath the body had made that sound. Jumping up, I stared at the body in shock, a hint of something shiny glistening under the corpse.
“Timothy…I think-” Well I never got to say what I thought. I was quite rudely interrupted by a man charging through the trees straight for us. He was built the same as the dead one, same sharp jaw and broad shoulders. Just he was alive. And it looked like he wanted US dead.
“Foolish children!” He shouted. Incredibly impolite. We were standing right there, he didn’t need to yell.
“Oh. Hi. This is not the body you’re looking for.” Timothy said, standing and holding his hand in a circle. That didn’t work as well as I had hoped.
“You FOOLS.” He screamed again. “I spend a week looking and you find him?!”
“He wasn’t hiding very well.” I replied matter of factly.
“Do you need glasses?” Timothy asked helpfully. “That’s how I saw president Lincoln.”
I shook my head, unimpressed. “Riley should be back any minute. He called the police, like you’re supposed to do after you find a dead body.” The man looked at me, his eyes full of rage. Oh golly. I hope Riley gets all of my teeth if I die. Then he kicked the body, revealing a small metal chest. He heaved it up in a panic, then turned to look at us.
“Hostages…” He said softly. Oh no. No sir. Not today. I could miss one episode of Jeopardy, but being kidnapped means I would most definitely miss another.
“No thank you.” I proceeded to grab the pot off of Timothy’s head and flung it at the man like a frisbee.
BING. It hit him in the middle of the forehead and he teetered, in shock and most likely developing the worst migraine of his life. He stumbled, before falling forward to the ground and dropping the box, which split open on impact. Hundreds of dollars spilled out, covering the dead leaves around us in green. Huh. Bank robbers. Not super original.
By the time Riley and the Police showed up, I had knocked the man out with Timothy’s pan two additional times for good measure. They were a little shocked, but handled everything well enough. I guess you can’t get much practice for these things. Props to them though, five stars for sure. I was right, of course, they were bank robbers. They were running from the police when they got separated, and one, (the dead one) had gotten his leg caught in a trap and knocked himself out on a rock simultaneously. Terribly inconvenient. He lay there until he died. This kids, serves a very important lesson. If you’re going to rob a bank, at least drink milk beforehand. Strong bones are a necessity.
A few days later, after everything had calmed down, we got a visit from the police. In addition to finding the money, we also technically captured the bad guys, so we got a reward. I guess it was worth missing Jeopardy.
That evening, we all sat at a diner counter like the heroes we were, sipping from gallon sized glasses of cherry limeades. I had bought a new walkman. Riley a pet scorpion. Timothy just got more pans. All and all, I’d say it was the most successful second Tuesday in October I’ve ever had. So far, at least. Who knows what the future holds?

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