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    Christmas in Lemberland
    Christmas in Lemberland
    Christmas in Lemberland
    Ebook145 pages2 hours

    Christmas in Lemberland

    By Joseph Gambaro

    ()

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    About this ebook

    A boy named Michael will discover something in his attic while searching for some Christmas decorations on the day after Thanksgiving. This amazig discovery will lead Micheal along with his sister and best friend on a fantastic and mysterious journey beyond their wildest dreams. Mystery, thrills and suspense are all combined into a heartwarming story.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJoseph Gambaro
    Release dateDec 10, 2016
    ISBN9781370175307
    Christmas in Lemberland
    Author

    Joseph Gambaro

    Born in Brooklyn, now lives in Staten Island, NY

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      Book preview

      Christmas in Lemberland - Joseph Gambaro

      Christmas In Lemberland

      Joseph Gambaro

      COPYRIGHT © BY JOE GAMBARO

      ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

      This book may not be reproduced in sections or in its

      entirety without a written consent form containing the

      author’s signature.

      PRINTED IN THE U.S.A.

      Chapter I

      AFTER SCHOOL

      Michael Tinaldi was on his way home after the school day had ended. As he made his way along the crowded streets of Gatlin Avenue, he passed up a Salvation Army worker. He didn’t notice her at first, standing there by the Grand Rite Supermarket. It was not until he heard her voice.

      Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas! she called out to all the people walking by, while she rang a bell in one hand and held a small tin cup in the other. Michael turned around to look at her, and he laughed. How silly he thought she looked, wearing that white sailor hat. Paying her no further attention, he began to walk a little faster because he was in a hurry to get home. He had to examine something which he had found in his attic on the day after Thanksgiving. Although he had already looked it over time and again, his fascination with his discovery became greater with each passing day.

      Michael told no one about his discovery, not his parents or his sister, or even his best friend, Bobby Calahan. He wasn’t sure he was ready to speak of such an incredible finding because it almost didn’t seem real to him. And the more he thought about it, the more he felt as if he were being drawn away from his ordinary existence. But reality soon came into focus again when he arrived within a block from a little brick house decorated with white lights and colored ornaments that blended together so nicely. This little brick house happened to be the home where Michael lived with his parents and his sister, Janet.

      How could this be, he thought, surprised to see his best friend Bobby Calahan. For there he was sitting on Michael’s front porch with his school bag strapped over his shoulders. Part of him was concealed by the big Santa Claus that sat at the bottom of the steps. How did ya get here so fast? asked Michael, as he approached him.

      I took a short cut through the park.

      Ohh, why didn’t I think of that! he snapped his fingers.

      What’s the big hurry, Michael?

      I don’t know, I guess I couldn’t wait to get to those chocolate chip cookies my mom baked.

      Ahh, that’s just like you, Chubby. Bobby shook his head. His curly hair remained undisturbed on this windy day in December. Even the naked branches on the tree outside Michael’s house were being moved with great force from the turbulent wind.

      Race ya to see who gets to them first, Bobby.

      Before he finished his sentence, Michael quickly moved his heavy legs up the steps and into the house. He knocked the wreath off the front door when he brushed into it with his shoulder, and it fell down onto the top step of the porch

      Ease up, Bobby said, and he went into the living room with Michael. The boys took off their coats and took in the warmth of the fireplace. Little Christmas stockings hung over the mantel; two were emerald green and another pair was red. Standing next to the fireplace was a Christmas tree; it had been beautifully decorated with an assortment of ornaments and multi-colored lights. At night when the tree was lit up, it would cast a reflection onto the freshly painted walls and the hardwood floor.

      Hey! Michael yelled and stomped his foot when his cat Toby came into the living room and knocked an ornament off the Christmas tree. Toby got scared and ran away. That dumb cat is always doing that. He picked up the ornament and carefully hung it back on the tree. Look at the angel, he said. Her head almost touches the ceiling."

      Wow! Bobby looked impressed.

      At this point Michael felt as if he were going to burst inside. He had to reveal to Bobby what was on his mind. There’s something I gotta show you, I’ve been meaning to for the past couple of weeks.

      What is it? he asked. In the attic, Michael whispered. After we have the cookies, I’ll show you. Just don’t say nothing to no one.

      Okay, he agreed, and they walked past the dining room and went into the kitchen. It was a small kitchen with a little table made out of butcher’s block. At the present moment, Maria Tinaldi, who was Michael’s mother, had been preparing dinner for her family. She was a beautiful woman with chestnut-colored hair; she was thirty-three years old.

      Hello boys, she said, when she saw them come into the kitchen. Bobby returned her greeting and Michael wasted no time in asking for the cookies.

      They’re in the cupboard. Just make sure you save some for your sister.

      I will, Mom.

      By the way, did you see Janet on your way home from school?

      No, I didn’t see her. He opened up the door of the cupboard; it was a little oak cabinet with deep shelves – it stood out at the end of the row of all the other cabinets. He grabbed the cookie jar and two little plates and then he set them down onto the table. Do we have any milk, Mom?

      Oh, I forgot to buy it, cried Mrs. Tinaldi.

      That’s all right, Mom. I’ll make cocoa instead. He boiled a small pot of water and he poured two cups of cocoa, and then he ate the chocolate chip cookies, voraciously. His double chin shook with every bite.

      Slow down, his mother said.

      Trying to speak with his mouth full, Michael made a kind of gurgling sound. Bobby, meanwhile, had just started to eat his second cookie.

      They’re great Mrs. Tinaldi, the best I ever tasted.

      Why thank you, Bobby. She winked at him as she dried the last utensil she had washed, rubbing it as if it were a piece of brass.

      Clear up after you’re finished. And do your homework, if you have any.

      Okay Mom. He asked her if he could go into the attic to get some coloring materials he needed for school tomorrow.

      All right, but hurry up.

      When they made their way into the attic, it was completely dark inside. Michael reached blindly for the light bulb that dangled just above his head. They could see books that were lying around and some boxes used for storage. Over in a corner sat a potbelly stove, which might have been used to heat up the house a long time ago.

      Over here," said Michael, as he knelt down and removed one of the loose floorboards.

      What are you doing, Michael?

      You’ll see. He then reached into the open floor and pulled out what appeared to be some type of scroll. I found this the day after Thanksgiving when I came up here to get the Christmas decorations. It was right there, stuck inside the loose floorboards.

      God, it looks older than my grandfather.

      Michael laughed. It probably is. So just be careful when you open it. The paper is so brittle.

      He opened it and viewed what appeared to be a faded drawing – illustrations of a house, a small slope, and a wishing well. There was also a tree with the letter X written near it; the X marked the site of a buried treasure.

      The Christmas Treasure, Bobby read, for this was written across the top of the drawing. So what does it all mean?

      "Don’t you see it, Bobby? It’s a treasure map. There’s a treasure buried right here in my backyard. Isn’t it unbelievable

      Bobby looked at him. What? he said

      But it’s true. Michael took the drawing from him. Can’t you see that the little house that looks like an outhouse is just like the shed in my backyard? Even the well is the same.

      There could be millions of yards with wells and outhouses.

      Not in Brooklyn there aren’t.

      Come on, Michael. This is just something you would give to a little kid. That’s all it is.

      Well, we’re kids. Aren’t we?

      But we’re not four years old. And I don’t think that a four-year-old would believe in such a thing. Michael covered the grin on his face while he tried to hold back from laughing. Grab one end of the map, he said. Reluctantly, Bobby did this.

      Now look at the fine print on the boundary line of the drawing.

      While holding it up toward the light fixture, Bobby strained his eyes trying to make out the tiny inscription: ‘74 Warren Street, site of the buried treasure,’ were the words inscribed. There was an arrow pointing in the direction of the treasure.

      Bobby looked puzzled now. My God, he thought. Can it really be?

      What he had seen before his eyes was Michael Tinaldi’s address and the indication that a treasure was buried on his property.

      What did I tell you, Bobby? This proves that it is true.

      Bobby still expressed some doubt. The map could have been made this way as a joke.

      So what if it was? We won’t be causing any harm if we search for it anyway, just like we used to do in our make believe games of treasure hunting. Only this time the search will be for real.

      They talked for a while, until Michael finally persuaded Bobby into going on a treasure hunt with him.

      It seems so silly, but alright."

      This made Michael happy. He immediately set up an expedition date for the day after tomorrow.

      We can’t do it on a Friday. We have school.

      "My mother is going to visit her aunt on Friday. This gives us the

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