Chapter Text
The Routledge house always felt a little too quiet when Big John was gone. Not empty—never exactly empty—but like the place was holding its breath.
Outside, the cicadas buzzed in the late summer heat, and the tide rolled in slow, steady sighs somewhere beyond the marsh. Inside, the ceiling fan in the living room spun lazily, clicking every few turns like it was thinking about stopping.
On the floor, surrounded by a mess of papers and old notebooks, John B sat cross-legged with a flashlight between his teeth.
He was supposed to be cleaning.
Instead he was digging through his dad’s stuff again.
A map was spread across the floorboards in front of him, yellowed and soft at the folds. There were circles drawn in pencil along the coastline, messy notes scribbled in the margins, and a big question mark over the water like whoever drew it had gotten frustrated halfway through.
John B squinted at it, chewing on the plastic end of the flashlight.
“Okay,” he muttered around it. “So if that’s the inlet…”
He dragged his finger across the paper, following the thin blue line of the channel.
“Then the wreck’s gotta be somewhere—”
A sharp knock hit the front door.
John B jumped.
The flashlight fell from his mouth and clattered across the floor. For a second he just sat there, staring toward the hallway.
His dad never knocked.
Another knock came—quieter this time.
John B scrambled to his feet and hurried down the hall, skidding a little on the wooden floor.
When he opened the door, JJ was standing on the porch.
His blond hair was messy like he’d run his hands through it a hundred times. One side of his lip was split, a thin line of dried blood trailing down his chin. There was a darkening bruise already blooming along his cheekbone.
John B’s stomach dropped. He hates when this happened.
"Your dad?"
JJ shrugged like it was nothing.
“Maybe.” His voice came out casual, but he didn’t quite meet John B’s eyes.
John B stepped aside without another word.
JJ slipped past him into the house like he’d done it a thousand times before. The screen door slammed behind them with a loud clap.
JJ wandered into the living room and immediately stopped when he saw the disaster on the floor. Papers. Maps. Old notebooks. A compass.
JJ crouched down, picking up one of the pages. “What’s all this?”
John B kicked the door shut and came back into the room.
“My dad’s notes.”
JJ’s eyebrows went up.
“About the treasure thing?”
“Yeah.”
JJ dropped onto the floor beside him instantly, like the bruises and the split lip had never happened.
That was the thing about JJ.
He could be bleeding and still look excited if John B mentioned something interesting—or anything, really. He'd get excited over whatever John B's in.
He grabbed the map and turned it sideways. “What’s this circle?”
“I think it’s a wreck.”
“A shipwreck?”
“Yeah.”
JJ’s eyes lit up. “Like pirate treasure?”
John B shrugged, trying to look casual about it even though his heart always beat a little faster when people said that. “Maybe.”
JJ leaned closer to the map, their shoulders bumping.
“So where is it?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”
JJ looked around the room.
“Your dad home?”
John B shook his head.
“Nope.”
“When’s he coming back?”
Another shrug.
“Don’t know.”
JJ nodded slowly like that answer made perfect sense.
Because to them, it did.
Big John disappearing for days—or weeks sometimes—wasn’t exactly unusual.
JJ tossed the paper back down and leaned back on his hands. “Man,” he said. “Your dad’s out there chasing treasure and you’re just sitting here doing homework.”
“I’m not doing homework.”
“You were supposed to.”
John B ignored that. Instead he picked up the map again, smoothing it flat with both hands.
“I think he’s close.”
JJ tilted his head.
“To what?”
“To finding it.”
JJ leaned forward again.
“How do you know?”
John B pointed to the notes along the side of the map. “He stopped writing guesses.”
“So?”
“So that means he found something.”
JJ stared at the paper for a long moment. Then he grinned. A slow, crooked grin that made the bruise on his cheek stretch. “Let’s go find him.”
John B blinked.
“What?”
JJ sat up straighter. “Let’s go find him.”
“That’s not—”
“You’ve got the map.”
“He’s probably way out in the ocean.”
“So?”
John B hesitated.
JJ watched him carefully now. The excitement was still there, but something else sat underneath it—something restless and sharp. The kind of energy JJ always had after a bad night at home.
“I’m not going back there tonight,” JJ said quietly.
John B didn’t ask what happened. He didn’t need to.
Instead he looked down at the map again.
Then back at JJ.
“You really think we could find him?”
JJ’s grin came back instantly. “Dude, we’re geniuses.”
“We’re eleven.”
“Same thing.”
John B laughed.
JJ leaned over the map again. “Okay,” he said, tapping the paper. “If your dad’s looking for this wreck, where would he start?”
John B pointed toward the inlet. “Probably here.”
JJ followed the line with his finger.
“That’s only like… what, a mile out?”
“Two.”
“Still.”
JJ looked up at him, eyes bright. “We could totally get there.”
“With what boat?”
JJ shrugged. “My dad’s.”
John B blinked.
“Your dad would kill you.”
JJ tilted his head, thinking about it for a second. “Yeah,” he said finally. Then he shrugged again. “He’d probably do it someday anyway.”
John B stared at him. “That’s not funny.”
JJ’s grin was crooked, a little too casual. “I’m not joking.”
John B hesitated.
The fan clicked overhead.
JJ leaned closer, lowering his voice like they were planning a heist. “What if we find the treasure first?”
John B snorted. “We’re not finding a treasure.”
JJ ignored him.
“No, listen.”
He grabbed a pencil and started scribbling on the map. “What if there’s like—gold bars.”
“Gold bars?”
“Yeah.”
“Why would pirates have gold bars?”
“Because they’re pirates.”
John B rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine. Gold bars.”
JJ’s grin widened. “If we find them first, we’re rich.”
“How rich?”
JJ spread his arms dramatically. “Like… insanely rich.”
John B leaned back on his elbows, staring at the ceiling.
“What would you do with it?”
JJ didn’t even have to think.
“Boat.”
“A boat?”
“A big one.”
“With what?”
“Engines. Two of them.”
John B laughed.
“That’s your big dream?”
JJ nudged his shoulder. “Shut up.”
“Okay, what else?”
JJ thought for a second.
“Surfboards.”
John B smiled a little. “What about a house?”
JJ made a face. “Houses are boring.”
“Not if it’s a cool one.”
“Fine. A cool one.”
“Where?”
JJ shrugged. “Somewhere warm.”
“It’s already warm here.”
“Warmer.”
John B turned his head toward him. “Like where?”
JJ looked back at him. He leaned closer without either of them really noticing. Their shoulders pressed together now, damp t-shirts sticking slightly in the humid air. JJ’s elbow rested against John B’s arm, warm and solid. For a second his grin softened.
“Somewhere nobody knows us.”
The words hung between them.
JJ reached out absently and flicked a grain of sand off John B’s knee, like it had been bothering him for a while.
The room went quiet.
Then JJ shook his head, bumping his shoulder lightly into John B’s. He straightened up again, snapping back into his usual energy. “And we’ll never have to go to school again.”
John B laughed.
“That’s your real plan.”
“Obviously.”
He nudged John B again. “What about you?”
John B thought about it.
“Fishing.”
JJ squinted at him. “You’d still fish even if you had treasure money?”
“Yeah.”
JJ shook his head like he couldn’t believe that. “You’re weird.”
“Shut up.”
They sat there for a moment, shoulders touching, staring at the map on the floor. The ocean waited somewhere beyond the marsh grass.
JJ finally tapped the paper again.
“So.”
John B looked at him.
JJ grinned. “Treasure hunt?”
John B glanced toward the empty hallway.
Then back at the map.
Then at JJ.
He smiled slowly.
“Treasure hunt.”