LITMIR.BIZ

      I looked at the menu, weighing all the options. I could get an entire breakfast for the price of the latte but it was the latte that I craved.

      “What are you getting?” Twiggy asked.

      “Shh, I’m sending out distress signals.”

      “What kind of distress signals?”

      “I’m hoping a latte down the street hears my pleas and comes to my rescue.”

      “Ah, I see. And if it doesn’t?”

      “Then I’m having the special of the day.”

      “That’s just a two egg breakfast.”

      “Then I’ll half the order. Will they half a two egg breakfast for me?”

      “Why are you scrimping?”

      “Because I don’t eat much in the morning and because I don’t want to have to ask my mom for more money.”

      “Your mom’s the financier of the family?”

      “No, not really. She is just the telephone answerer.”

      “And if you were to talk to your dad?”

      “He would be more willing to send some and less likely to tell my mom he did.”

      “Well, if you need to call home let me know. I can get you through to your dad.”

      “There’s only one problem with that,” I said.

      “What?”

      “They don’t know… um… they don’t know…”

      His eye brow went up a tad.

      “I didn’t tell them you were a guy. They think I’m trying to help a girl friend get home without falling asleep at the wheel and then visiting her family for a few days before I come home.”

      “So, I learn something new. You know how to work one over your parents.”

      “Do you think they would let me go if they knew?”

      “No.”

      “Where does your dad think you are?” I asked.

      “No worries. He thinks I’m on my way home but he thinks I’ll stop in every town along the way, find a party to crash and get drunk every night. He knows I’ll show up eventually.”

      “Doesn’t he worry about you if he thinks that’s the kind of lifestyle you live?”

      “Eh, he figures he survived it. It must be what sons do after school gets out.”

      “But you don’t want to party your way home?”

      “I tried it once. If you crash a party you don’t know anybody. You can get free booze but the hangover isn’t worth it.”

      “This must be boring to you.”

      “Boring? No. Today we get to find a Pink Panther Cache. What’s boring about that?”

      “What do we have to do to find it?” I asked.

      “I don’t know. It’s going to take a hike. We have to earn that five terrain rating.”

      “At least we are used to walking from one end of campus to the other between classes.”

      “It’s going to be a twenty minute drive to the next town.”

      “Cool! Morrison will be happy to see a different cache.”

      On the way to the Pink Panther Cache Twiggy drove through the Coffee Caboose, which is a little coffee to-go shop housed in a real caboose. Since trains don’t use cabooses anymore the orphaned train cars have been put to use in every little town in the area. One of them is even painted yellow, has a periscope attached and goes by The Yellow SUBmarine.

      “Hold on,” Twiggy said as he pulled up under the big willow tree standing beside the Coffee Caboose. “You might as well get this one while we’re here. Look under the steps and there’s a black hide a key stuck to the underside.”

      “It’s no fair if you tell me!” I said.

      “Just hop out and sign it. It’s one more smiley.”

      “What’s it rated?”

      “Just a one/one but every smiley counts.”

      I felt very self conscious as I went over to the steps and began feeling around underneath. I had to get down on hands and knees and look before I spotted it. I signed the log and replaced the cache, then jogged back to the van.

      “Find it?” Twiggy asked.

      “Yup.”

      “When you go to log it, remember it’s called Caboose’s Caboose.”

      “Okay.” I had to think about that one before I realized it was on the back end of the caboose.

      We hit the road and put in twenty miles before we turned on our newly charged GPS and navigated to a parking spot. This time we did bring water. Twiggy had a book pack full of all kinds of geocaching things, including more of the little keychains from school. He also had a zippered pouch of what he called tools of the trade. I’d seen inside it and there were all kinds of little metal tools. I’d just have to see what kind of tools geocaching required. He also carried extra baggies, pens and little plastic containers. He seemed to be prepared for just about any geocache hunt.

      It was a hot day but there were plenty of tall, shady trees and the trail looked well marked and well traveled. The sign said, “Lookout Tower .7, Kendall Remote Camp 3, Timberland Trail 4.5”.

      “Look out, here we come,” Twiggy said.

      “Is that where the Pink Panther is hiding?” I asked.

      “That’s what I am guessing since the GPS says the cache is half a mile away.”

      “But the sign says seven tenths.”

      “The GPS tells us the distance as the crow flies. I think we learned from our last hunt that we should follow the trail and it obviously has some twists and turns in it.”

      “I’ve got my walking feet! We brought water! Let’s go!”

      We

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