Days passed and it was my turn to be awkward and secluded.  I kept myself and Jasper in my room for the most part, emerging only for meals.  It was good to hear the lively conversations, but I did very little talking.  Leah seemed uncomfortable around me, as if she wondered if it was her fault that my demeanor suddenly changed.  I wanted to assure her that it wasn't but I could not find it in myself to express all that I was feeling.

            I made an earnest attempt to start filling my new journal with happy things.  I did not feel happy in the slightest but decided if I could remember pleasant times, then it should improve my mood as well as start this wonderful thing that Owen had given to me.  I began with my parents, jotting down bits of things that I wanted to stay with me forever.  What they looked like, how they sounded and what they taught me.  If I remembered anything precise, I had to include it, like when I described the best aspects of my brothers I recalled my mother telling me that good things come in threes, like them.  I remembered screwing up my face and asking her why then there was just one of me.  She had laughed and brought me into her lap saying that while good things come in threes, the best things come singly.  I'm sure it was just to appease me then, but I had to agree now that my brothers are the best of men.

            I drew a picture of the locket that Patience had given to me and I tried to recall her words that had helped me during that unfair time.  I refrained from much else regarding her because the point of this was to keep a cheerful place.  Perhaps I would find more positive aspects to include later now that she was herself happier.

            The next thing I found myself sketching was the cameo locket that Percival had given to me.  I still recalled exactly what it looked like, down to every detail.  I was sure my drawing did not do it justice but it was a fond reminder of the token.  I debated whether or not to include one of his more poetic letters, but then depending on how things settled, it could turn into a painful reminder.  I looked at my sketch again and thought about erasing it.  I couldn't though.  No matter what, it was a moment of true bliss when I realized that it meant . . . that I meant something to him.

            Jasper let out a low whine and began pawing at the door.  Figuring that he needed to go outside, I moved quickly but when I opened the door I found Leah pacing outside of my room.  "I'm sorry," she chimed, "but . . . Mr. Nassar asked that I get you."

            I looked for Jasper, hoping he could wait just a moment but he was busy chasing Alice down the hall.  I realized he knew what was beyond my door and did his part to get me to open it.  "I am not good company, Leah," I offered, trying not to sound curt.

            "I understand, but he was most adamant that I should bring you no matter what," she dropped her chin and looked up at me with her wide eyes, exuding all of the sweetness and innocence that she could.

            "Are you trying to sweeten me?" I fought a laugh that was brewing.

            "Please, Margaret, I've missed you!" Leah took my hands and started gently pulling me towards the stairs, "Mr. Nassar promises that it will be something fun."

            "Have you been spending much time with Mr. Nassar?" I tried to ask casually.

            "Well, you have been hiding," she smiled, "but he has been busy as well.  Then today he asked me to get you, saying that he had something for us."  Once we were downstairs she practically skipped her way towards the library, "Come on," she cooed, "it's been so boring these last few days."

            I wanted to giggle with her again, she looked almost carefree in her eagerness.  When we opened the library doors Owen was standing in front of the large window with his back to us.  "It has been rather solemn as of late," he spoke deliberately, his voice was low, "so I have devised a little fun."  He turned towards us with two scrolls in his hands.

            "What are those?" my curiosity was piqued.  He merely smiled and handed us each one of them.

            "Can we open them?" Leah could barely contain her excitement as I saw her fingers run over the wax seal.

            "Rules first," he straightened up to his full height, making us both dwarf in comparison.  "You both open them at the same time . . . on my mark.  You must follow ways illuminated for you.  The paths have been picked personally.  Once you reach your X, you will dig until you find your treasure chest . . . "

            "Treasure?" Leah squealed with excitement, "Real treasure?"

            "Hush now," Owen chided, "Once you find your chest, you come back to me for the key," with that he held up his hand, it held two keys tied with ribbons.  "Do you understand?"  Leah was nodding as I still studied my parchment roll.  "Miss Woodbridge?"

            "I think I understand," I answered with a nod.

            "Very good, now stand back to back," he said moving us, "I shall count to five and then you may open your maps.  One . . . two . . . three . . . four . . . five."

            I carefully opened my scroll and there in my hands was a beautifully detailed map of my home . . . of the bridge that crossed the stream before entering onto our property, the woods that circled our house and even my craggy path to the beach.  Everything was there, even my tree house.  Leah took off like a flash and I looked at my map again before turning to Owen, "There is no path on mine."

            "Well this being your home, you know it unlike any other.  There is indeed an X on your map, you just have to find it."  He gave a half smile and walked away.

            I stared at my map as I left through the kitchen, looking for any sign of an X.  I turned it this way and that, but I noticed nothing.  "What's wrong, Deary?" Charlotte asked passing me.

            "I cannot find the X," I answered, looking at her quizzically.

            Charlotte looked over my shoulder and pointed, "That looks like it could, what is it?"
            "Oh," I laughed, "it does, doesn't it?"  I gave her a quick peck on the cheek and ran into the gardens, headed for the beach.  When I got there I saw the old logs where we sometimes sit to watch the ocean, they indeed form an X.  I looked around trying to figure where I should start to dig when I saw the small box hidden in the hollow of one log.

            The box itself was lovely, decorative carvings adorned the lid and there was a charming brass keyhole that brought out the color of the wood.  Of course it was locked, but I had to try to open it anyway.  I swept the sand from my dress and began back towards the house.  I took my time, keeping an eye out for where Leah might be.  I imagined he planned the perfect path for her, I hoped she would let me see her map eventually.

            As I entered through the back of the house, I saw Leah coming in through the front door, a very similar box in her hands and a rosy glow to her cheeks as she smiled at me.  We met in front of the drawing room and found Owen sitting at the small table, two chairs waiting for us, "Ladies," he said standing and extending his arms, inviting us to sit.  "I hope you found the journey pleasing?  I've never had to draw a treasure map before."  I noticed his gaze fell on Leah and she looked away blushing.  "Since you have completed the quest, it's time for you to receive your treasure."  He slid a key towards Leah and the other towards me, I looked at my friend as she shakily unlocked her box.  I followed suit opening mine, there was a small velvet pouch on top, then an ornate glass bottle that sat on a tray.

            Leah opened her pouch and several coins fell from it, she looked over each one, "Is this real money?"

            "Yes and no," Owen answered.  "It is good in the right provinces of Egypt, but aside from there, it won't get you far."

            "I guess that means we will have to go to Egypt, right Margaret?" Leah turned to me with a happy smile.

            "Yes, it does, and we're lucky to know someone who can show us around," I agreed as I examined the small bottle.  Mine was clear glass with golden etching around it.  Leah's was blue glass with silver etching.  Both beautiful and exquisite.  "What are these?"

            Owen took a deep breath, "They are tear bottles.  In ancient times our people would use them to collect tears of mourning and bury them with the loved one as a sign of devotion.  The practice has fallen away some, but the current tradition is that when you mourn, you collect your tears and set them aside.  When they have evaporated, the mourning period is done."

            "It's lovely," I sighed examining my bottle closely.

            "I wanted to give them to you because you both have suffered losses before I met you, I imagine some quite recent and acutely," his demeanor was shy again as he did not meet our eyes.  "I want these bottles to serve as a reminder that the sadness does end . . . it does not last forever.  And more importantly, you cannot forget to live.  Be young.  Be vibrant.  Be who you are meant to be."  He gave us an awkward smile as he stood, then disappeared out the door on one of his outings.

            "He is rather brilliant," I commented to Leah, "What do you think?"

            "I think he is . . . quite remarkable," her voice was barely a whisper.  Then as if she remembered that I was there, she gathered her treasure and disappeared as well.