Jumbled Words From 1859

Zack woke up startled as his phone rang. “Hello,” he said in the tone of a voice that makes the other person go, “Sorry, did I wake you?”

“Hey, it’s Dan. Did I wake you? I don’t care,” Dan Klein said in a voice that radiated coldness and aggression.

“What’s the problem?” said Zack, putting his socks on, one arm at a time.

“Zack, my roommate Arthur is dead. So is yours.” Zack looked across the room, and sure enough, Scott looked like he was either dead asleep or asleep dead. He poked Scott with a piece of string. He didn’t budge. Scott was dead.

“Why didn’t you call the police or the RA?” asked Zack, going through Scott’s wallet.

“Well, dingus, because I found a note as I was going through Arthur’s wallet, and it said to call you first!” Just as Zack was pulling out a couple of twenties, a note fell to the ground. He picked it up, and in typed handwriting it wrote, “Dear Zack, your roommate is dead, here is a treasure map. Happy trails. Sorry your roommate is dead. P.S. Find the treasure with fellow Daily Free Press columnist and friend Dan Klein.” Zack sat down on Scott’s bed, wiping his forehead with the late Scott’s crisp 20s. There was a knock at the door.

Zack answered the door only to see Dan standing in the doorway, out of breath, still on the phone with Zack.

“Wait, how did you know my roommate-”

“There is no time for that!” Dan said, slapping Zack in the face then slapping himself. “We have to get that treasure!”

“Aren’t you upset that Arthur is dead-”

“Hell no! We are about to strike it rich here! Isn’t that amazing? I love money! Did you find any note?”

“Yes, I did. Here it is,” Zack said, handing Dan the note while stuffing Dead Scott’s cash in a pair of Scott’s jeans, then putting the jeans on himself.

The treasure map was a layout of the Boston University campus. There was an “X” on the map, right above the Charles River. Dan’s note had a clue written on it: “The entrance is with God, to the right of a piano.”

“I don’t get it,” Dan said. “I didn’t think that God played the piano.”

“Hold on, Dan. Do you know who killed our roommates?” Zack asked as he moved Scott’s computer to his desk.

“No, but whoever did wants us to have the treasure, as well as dead roommates, and that’s fine with me,” said Dan, taking a shovel out of his pocket. “Well, I’m ready. How about you?”

“I don’t know how good I feel about all of this,” said Zack, now putting on Scott’s watch and going through his drawers.

“Listen,” Dan said. “You and I have been good friends for a while now. There is nothing to be afraid of. We will find that treasure and whoever it is that killed our roommates and we’ll live like college-attending kings for the rest of our days! I mean, I know that I would never get greedy and want the treasure to myself.”

Zack finally saw the light, and the two entrepreneurs left Zack’s room and ran for Marsh Plaza, the best starting place they could think of. When they arrived, they took a two-hour break to dare each other as to who would cross the Boston University seal. After they started fist-fighting when neither would cross, Zack kicked Dan in the shins and Dan fell on the seal, screaming in fright, “I won’t graduate now! Zack, you better pray to God that I graduate, or else!”

“That’s it!” said Zack. Dan looked confused. Zack slapped him, then himself. “Don’t you get it? The entrance is with God. Where is God? In God’s house. Where is God’s house?” Dan gave Zack a thumb’s up. “Marsh Chapel!” Zack said, “There’s a piano in there, too!”

“Thank God I kept you alive,” Dan said.

“What?”

“Oh, never mind.” Dan winked at himself.

The two ran into the chapel. They approached the piano, and headed to the right of it. Zack tripped over a step and fell on the floor, moving a rug and revealing a secret door leading under the chapel, yet not to its basement. The two lifted the door, and proceeded down a narrow passageway that led to what seemed to be right underneath the Charles River itself.

“Are we under the Charles?” Zack asked, holding on to Dan’s hair for safety.

“Yeah, and I think we’re almost to the center, where the X was AAAAHHH!” Dan shrieked as Zack pulled down on Dan’s hair bringing them both to the ground.

“I’m sorry, I tripped on something,” Zack said.

“Ah, that hurt! I can’t wait to kill you,” Dan said under his breath.

“What did you say?” Zack asked as he felt along the ground for what he tripped on.

“Oh, nothing,” Dan said, the darkness covering his devilish smile and receding hairline.

“It feels like some sort of giant button!” said Zack, and he pushed down. The lights came on throughout the tunnel, revealing a door to their left.

“Wow,” Dan said.

“I think the treasure is inside this door,” said Zack.

“So is your doom,” Dan said. Zack looked at Dan and laughed. “Dan, you are such a joker.” Dan opened the door.

This enticing story will be continued tomorrow in Dan Klein’s column. The concluding column will be written by Dan Klein, ended by Dan Klein and will even smell like Dan Klein.

Zack Poitras, a sophomore in the College of Arts and Sciences and senior in the art of stationary jogging, is a weekly columnist for The Daily Free Press. He can be reached at zpoitras@bu.edu.