Tom’s Treasure
The past is brought to the future; where even dogs and cats sing in harmony; where the lighthouse is a small light; this is a Cornish sea-side celebration. You would not get such a big crowd in the football world cup final in Brazil! Even the local chippy staff were dancing to the squeeze-box. The impetuous drunken sailors were dangling effortlessly on the sturdy masts. They sang shanties and traditional songs.
Amongst all the hustle and bustle a small boy cycled hastily with many a “Sorry!” and, ”Excuse me” as he peddled through the bustling and disorganised crowd. He was smashing vases, shattering plant pots. Everywhere his unintentional rampage went, it left a trail of “Watch where you`re going!” and “You fool!” The cause of the slight problem was that the boy (Tom) had lost his cat, or almost had. Tom peddled harder, keeping a fixed eye on Fluffy`s back legs.
Then, to Tom`s agonizing disappointment, the cat darted into a pub. ‘The Dead Pirate’ is what Tom read on the pub sign. A fiercesome skull and cross bones towered menacingly on the creaking door. Tom imagined lightning striking in front of it. I say imagined because it was actually fine weather. He had got into trouble in there before. Tom gulped and ventured in. The sound of drunken laughter filled Tom`s quaking ears. He crouched down among the forest of legs, searching desperately for a glimpse of Fluffy. Eventually, he gave up and and cowered into a dark corner, where no one could be bothered by him. But he could not help over hearing an interesting conversation. “Did you bring the money?” asked a gruff but muffled voice. “Of course.” replied a scared other. It sounded as if the first voice was a master of the second.
“It is in the b-boat m-master, the b-biggest one m-master.” Tom needed no further explanation. Fluffy was banished from his mind. He rushed from the inn and gathered some bags to collect the money. What Tom deduced was that the gruff- voiced man was smuggling stolen gold from some rich country!
By Alex