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Ossifer was stupified. "You know he's not going to like this when he gets back," she protested. Reg kept at it. A billowing cloud of plaster filled the room and settled. "It's not like he ever uses this wall, Ossie," Reg answered between swings. "Besides, he'll thank me for the extra space." Ossie looked doubtfully at the coated furniture in Owen's room. It looked like someone had taken a giant sponge to it and soaked out all the color. "Maybe he doesn't use the wall but I think the building needs it. Haven't you heard of load-bearing walls? Are you even listening to me?" Reg swung again, this time uncovering a steel support beam. He adjusted his angle and worked around it. "You honestly have no taste for adventure, Ossie." He tried whistling but the dust had dried his lips. Ossie looked dolefully at a crack in the ceiling. "I suppose you think it would be a riot to have the roof collapse on you. Fine. I'm going back to my room. Call me when you finally kill yourself." Ossie turned for the door. BANG! The lights went out. "What was that?" Ossie yelped. Reg shuffled in the dark. "I think I just hammered through our electricity. No worries. Wait. There!" Ossie groped around for a sense of place while Reg mumbled unintelligibly. "We can work around this too." "What do you mean, 'we'?" Ossie grumbled. The sledgehammer smacked into the wall again, despite the pitch black. A metal *clang* sounded and a mist of water shot through the air. "Crap," Reg said. "Screw Owen," Ossie cried, "what is the landlady going to do to you?" The doorbell rang. Ossie stumbled through the apartment and unlatched the front door. "Sorry to bother you," said the old woman outside. "The power in our apartment just went out and I don't have anything to read with. Might I borrow a flashlight?" Ossie yelled into the house. "Reg, do we have a flashlight?" "Kitchen. Bottom drawer on the left," he called back. BANG! "AAAUGH!" "Here you are, miss." Ossie returned with the flashlight. The woman was peering through the front door with a concerned look in her eyes. "Is everything okay in here?" She asked. "I thought I heard somebody run into a wall." "It's fine," Ossie said quickly. "Reg, I'm going for a walk!" She was answered by the sound of breaking glass. "Where is that duct tape?" Ossie smiled decisively to the woman outside and, stepping out, closed the door behind her. BANG! Reflections rippled across the window panes as the vibration shook the entire building. "Just leave it on the doorstep when you're finished with it," Ossie said, pointing to the flashlight. "I'll be back in a day or so." She jammed her hands into her pockets and set off into the night, whistling absently.

Pirates don't usually bury their treasure in the walls of midwestern apartments but I knew Pirate Hessap, the infamous scourge of the Iowa Ocean, was a cunning sea-dog indeed. Sledgehammer in hand, I pocketed the crudely drawn map and took a swing. BANG! A cloud of plaster dust sprayed into the air. Ossifer broke through the door behind me, shouting a stream of objections. "Reg, what the hell are you doing!" she yelled. I tried to explain but she wouldn't let me finish. "You know he's not going to like this when he gets back." She sounded like my mother. I swung again, searching for an explanation that would suit her. "It's not like Owen ever uses this wall," I reasoned. "Besides, he'll thank me for the extra space." The hammer crashed through the plastered wall and I paused, waiting for the dust to settle again. No sign of the treasure yet. Old Hessap had buried it deep, the scoundrel. Maybe there would be some skeletons, too! Behind me, Ossie rambled unintelligibly about various technicalities. She was destroying the thrill of the hunt. "You honestly have no taste for adventure, Ossie." I tried to drown out her complaints by whistling a tune but the dust had inconveniently dried my lips. BANG! The lights went out. "What was that?" Ossie yelped. I fumbled through the hole in the wall and felt a pulverized mass of wires. "I think I just hammered through our electricity." I'd heard of pirates protecting their hordes with traps before, but this one was especially devious. I wasn't even aware that pirates had electricity. This apartment complex was obviously more than it seemed. "No worries," I said. There was a clear spot in the wall slightly to the right of the wires. "There! We can work around this too." Ossie grumbled as I poised for another, calculated swing. CLANG! A mist of water shot through the air, further soaking the towel of my frustration. "Screw Owen," Ossie cried, "what is the landlady going to do to you?" I smiled in the dark. The stash I was after would be more than enough to compensate for any pitiful property damage. I was uncovering the roots of an Iowan legend here! The doorbell rang and Ossie retreated from Owen's room. I took the chance to inspect my damage to the plumbing system. Just a nick. I found a new spot on the wall to work on and hefted the sledgehammer from my shoulder. "Reg, do we have a flashlight?" Ossie yelled from the living room. I paused mid swing, annoyed by the disruption. "Kitchen. Bottom drawer on the left," I answered. I swung again and planted the hammer firmly into a solid concrete pillar behind the wall. BANG! "AAAUGH!" The tremendous shock burned up and down my arms and I fell backward onto the floor. From out of nowhere, the mocking laughter of Pirate Hessap echoed through the building. *Har har har! Ye'll never find me treasure, lad. Ye may lay to that! Yarrrr! Ahoy! Ahoy!* Defiantly, I rose to my feet and heaved the hammer with all my might. It flew out of my hands and smashed through a side window. Curses! "Where is that duct tape?" I shouted. The door slammed shut, and I was left alone with the taunting of a dead pirate. Furiously, I kicked the wall with my boot and a panel broke free, crashing to the floor. The airborne particles burned my lungs as the wreckage settled over Owen's bookshelf. The sound of Hessap's laughter died into the darkness. The silence was laden with a strange anticipation. I cautiously approached the wall and felt through the new gap with my fingers. A nail here, a brace there. I searched upward and closed my hand around a mysterious form. It was the corner of a metal-banded wooden box.