AUTHOR'S NOTE: For my own convenience, and the problem of not existing in '82, the place is the same, the characters are the same people, same age...but the year in the story is 2006. Deal with it. This is NOT a desperate attempt to sneak Harry Potter in here and there. Nope. Absolutely not.

The Goonies: The Tomb of Mysteries

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "We're going WHERE!"

"Oh come on, Luna. Andy's not that bad. You used to get along so well together." My father ran his hand through his blonde beard and stared sternly at me. You know, the look that all parents get that say "Give it a chance."

I sighed. "We were ten, Dad. I'm not ten anymore, and neither is she. Now she's turned into this..." I searched for a word to express my disgust, and found the perfect one. "Cheerleader!"

"Lighten up. So she's perky. That doesn't mean you two can't get along."

"Cheerleaders and I don't mix. They don't like me."

"Maybe they can't get past the hair."

My hair was streaked a rich purple, and I loved it. Apparently no one else in my family did. They loved to give me a hard time. I'd get dressed in the morning, and my stepmom would say, "Oh good morning, Luna. Out to kill someone today?" I don't think I look that threatening. I can't help it if most cheerleaders want to shoot me.

Lord, I didn't want to fly all the way to Oregon to see Andy. She is quite possibly the most pathetic, weak-minded person I know. Not stupid, exactly...just...easily swayed, I suppose. Easy to frighten. Wimpy.

Ditzy.

Cheerleader.

I wasn't going to go to Oregon. I didn't want to, and nobody could make me.

-ONE WEEK LATER-

"LUNA!" Andy's voice shrieked from the mob of people collecting their luggage. A moment later, I saw a slim figure weaving her way through the airport crowd. "Omigosh, I haven't seen you in, like, ever!"

I winced and braced myself for a hug. I got one.

"Um, yeah. Andy. Hi." I said in monotone. I wanted very much to get the point across that I wasn't happy being here without saying it directly.

She didn't get it. "Uncle Tony!" She threw her arms around my dad. I stared at her. She was wearing the tiniest pair of shorts I had ever seen, and they had the word "BABYGIRL" plastered across the seat. Ugh.

I guess I was simply determined not to like her. I am like that. I 'pre-program' myself. If I say I am not going to like something, I don't. I know it's all in my head. But I hate being wrong. I especially hate being wrong about myself. I was also determined not to have a good time in Astoria.

This may have been the only occasion where I was terribly, horribly, grotesquely wrong.

I love that word. Grotesque. It's so descriptive. It implies disfiguration or distortion. Or simply something that is absolutely revolting. Like a human skeleton is grotesque.

Of course, people expect me to like human skeletons. People expect me to like blood. People expect me to like many things because of my image. For instance, I hate war. I hate death, and destruction. I am appalled by the concept of Satanic rituals. But people never listen. People don't accept things. People have lost their ability to believe in things, their eyes have been masked by common sense and odds and chances and reality. The only people I can really identify with are children. Which begins our story.

On the way home from the airport, Andy pointed out and explained everything. "That's the restaurant, and that's Brand's house. He's my boyfriend, you know. Except he failed his driving test recently. Can you believe he failed his driving test? I mean, nobody fails their driving test..." This went on and on. And on. About Brand, I mean. Brand this, Brand that.

Finally I got fed up. It was after we'd arrived at her house and she was helping me unpack. Turns out I was going to sleep in the attic. I was perfectly fine with that. It was nice and cool in the attic, and I didn't have to share a room with anybody but the bats. To be honest, I don't mind bats whatsoever. I think they're cute. I don't see how other girls can be so repulsed by them. And hell, nobody would wake me up. That counts for something.

Anyway, I got tired of Andy's chatter. "You know what? Instead of telling me about how great Brand is, why don't I just knock on his door and see for myself?"

I thought Andy was going to just glare at me and leave, and I would have been fine with that. But of course, she didn't. She jumped and said, "Great idea!" Oh lord.

Brand's house was a few down. It was big and had a Victorian-look to it. The architecture was wonderful, and the color was a beautiful pastel green, nearly white. However, the whole picture was interrupted by an odd contraption beginning at the porch and ending at the front gate. Notice I didn't say, "the picture was ruined." The contraption certainly didn't ruin the scene, and, if anything, added to it. There were wires and balloons and targets and pulleys and other odd objects that made up the machine. And, out of the corner of my eye... "Is that a chicken!"

Andy laughed and nodded. "Yeah. Neat, isn't it? Brand's little brother and his friends made it. See, if you hit the chicken with that marble..." she pointed to a cup with a marble in it that was connected to the rest of the contraption with a wire, "she lays an egg, which lands on the balance, which activates the..." I tuned her out, looking at the machine, figuring things out by myself.

She tapped me on the shoulder a minute later. "Is this not totally amazing? I mean, kids made this! These kids can't be older than eleven, it's just...odd, isn't it?"

No, it wasn't. Not to me. Kids are smarter than most people give them credit for. When people get older, they forget what they were capable of as children. I never, ever want to let that go. For example, you remember reading Harry Potter for the first time, I'm sure. And thought, wow, that's one cool kid. I could do that. But once you've exhausted the series and go back to the first one at age 14 or so, you will gasp and choke at the fact that little Harry accomplished that much at 11. Maybe you don't think the same way I do, I don't know. Maybe you're 'normal.' I don't think like you.

So I just shrugged. "Hey, Andy, how do you let them know you're here?"

She looked at me funny. "You ring the bell, of course."

Before I could protest that the gate was firmly shut and could only open if a weight was put into a bucket on a pulley on the porch, she rang a bell that was hanging on the handle of the gate.

The screen door opened and a little fat boy stood looking out. I could see through the glass door in front of him that his getup was terribly mismatched. His pants were a vibrant green, and his shirt was patterned with alternating light and dark purple horizontal stripes, which made him look even fatter. I also noticed he was holding a pint of Ben and Jerry's Cherry Garcia ice cream.

I laughed. "Is that your boyfriend?"

"No, that's Chunk," Andy answered, obviously thinking my question was an honest one. "Chunk, let us in!"

Chunk turned around and said something so someone out of my range of sight.

"That can't be his real name," I said.

"Of course not, his real name is Lawrence."

"Lawrence! That's horrid."

"It is, isn't it?"

"'Chunk' is worse, though."

"True, his size draws enough attention as it is."

"Poor kid."

Chunk opened the door. "Brand says you can come in only if the sex kitten next to you is invited."

I heard a voice from inside shouting, "Shut up, Chunk! Mikey said that, not me!" And laughter.

I grinned uneasily and wondered if they were being serious.

"Hang on," said Chunk, and he dropped a bowling ball into the bucket.

Immediately the machine sprang to life. Things dropped, were catapulted, sprinklers started, the chicken began to fuss, things clanged, and the gate swung open. "Cool."

"Come on, Luna!" Andy grabbed my hand and raced into the house.

The inside was similar to the outside. Simple, classic, pretty. Well-put-together. Beautiful paintings graced the walls, and statues adorned the tables. If it wasn't for the popcorn spilled all over the floor, I wouldn't have guessed children lived here. That's probably one of the only predictable things about kids. They make messes and don't clean them up. Then again, I'm the same way.

I made my way around the living room, stopping to adore each work of art. Perfect, flawless, stunning. Except for...a statue of a Roman god, which was perfect in every way...except...wait a minute.

"Yeah, that's Mrs. Walsh's favorite piece," came a voice behind me. I turned around to see a kid in a leather jacket with hair that resembled Jesse's from Full House. It looked pretty funny on him, to tell the truth. Like he'd walked out of New York.

I pointed to a spot midway down the statue. "Who made this?"

"I did!" Chunk piped up.

"You didn't make the statue, you nimrod, but you did make it the way it is now!" said the Yankee boy. "See, this part..." he fingered the erect piece of stone, "came off. We tried to glue it back on, but we did it upside down. Mrs. Walsh actually likes it better now, though. It's more realistic."

"Viagra," I said, and the Yankee boy doubled over with laughter.

"Guys, this is my cousin," Andy said. I turned to see her sitting in an older boy's lap. I guess he was Brand. Personally he didn't really look like my type. Muscular, sweatband on his forehead, logo sweatshirt. "Her name is Luna."

"Aahhhh," purred the Yankee boy. "Pleased to meet you...Loony."

"That's Mouth," said Andy. "And this is Brand..." she motioned to the guy she was sitting on. "That's Mikey..." she pointed to another little boy on the couch with a strawberry blonde hair and braces whose eyes were fixated on a Rubik's cube, "And you've met Chunk already."

"Hey guess who's heeeeeere!" a high-pitched voice shouted from outside, and a tiny Asian kid burst through a side screen door. And I mean, BURST through it. Not opened it. Broke the screen as he came flying in. He crashed onto the floor. As he stood up and moaned a little, he said, "God, Mikey, how many times do I have to tell you to put pillows there, you never listen."

"How many times do I have to tell YOU, Data, use the door," Brand said in exasperation. "Mom's gonna be really pissed...she's gonna have to buy another screen. That's the third one this month, and if she doesn't make YOU pay out of the nose for it I'll kill myself."

"Anyway, Data, like I was saying, this is Luna, my cousin," Andy repeated.

"Hi," said the Asian kid absentmindedly. He hardly looked in my direction. He just ran over to Mikey. "Hey, Mikey, you'll never believe what I found. Guess. Come on, guess."

Mikey put down his Rubik's cube. "Um...a ten-dollar bill?"

Data shook his head. "Better." He couldn't say his "r's." It was quite amusing, actually, but I didn't say anything.

"A...monkey?"

"No."

"Leonardo DiCaprio?"

"A map, Mikey! I found a map!"

Suddenly everybody dropped what they were doing and gathered around Data and Mikey. I didn't have any idea what the hell was going on, so I just copied them...because kids know best.

"Hey, guys!" Chunk said. "This is like a Civil War map or something!"

"Damn," said Mouth. "This thing's older than my grandfather." He read the date on the bottom right hand corner of the map. "1861..."

"Hey, uh, Brand, could you move your head, please?" I said, as politely as I could. He still looked at me funny, but moved his head. I could now see the map. It was fairly yellowed, actually more of a brown than anything, but didn't look that fragile. Not like the stuff in museums. The paper was actually quite sturdy. There was a drawing of a coastline, but it wasn't a coastline I recognized. Then again, I wasn't on the east coast anymore. Obviously I didn't recognize the landmarks either.

But I did recognize the name at the bottom near the date. "Daniel Bradford?"

Daniel Bradford had been a Civil War general who dropped out after the first few battles. He was a rich man from the south, and immediately got tired of war. He left his troops hanging and went west to look for oil instead. He never came back. I'd never really thought much of it. Which is surprising, since I am fascinated by disappearances and other unexplained phenomena.

I explained this to everyone. As I spoke, their eyes got wider and wider.

"He made it all the way out here?" Mouth whispered. "God, Data, where did you get this?"

Data squirmed. "Um...internet?"

"No, seriously, Data. Where did you get it?"

"Ebay. Really."

"Really," said Brand. "So I guess if I went upstairs right now into our attic and looked around, I wouldn't find anything missing?"

Data looked terribly uncomfortable. "There's no need for that."

Mikey laughed. "Brand, you told me that was a mouse!"

Brand grinned. "I thought it was too, until I went upstairs and found a broken picture frame. I went back up later to clean up the broken glass, but it was gone."

"God, Data, you need to teach me how to sneak into houses like that!" Mouth remarked.

"Wait a minute, guys..." said Chunk suddenly. "This is a map of a coastline alright, but this place is a good hundred miles from here. My grandparents live in a city called Jajowe, because there was a tribe of Jajowe Indians living where the city stands today. See this dark area on the map? It's marked 'Jajowe Territory.'"

"How are we going to get THERE!" Mikey asked. "If it's so far away. Maybe if Brand hadn't failed his driver's test..."

"Lord, Mikey, now Luna knows too. Got to make sure everyone and their mother find out about that, don't you?"

"Wait a minute!" I said in surprise. "You're thinking of actually GOING there? What do you expect to find?"

"We don't know," said Mikey. "That's part of the treasure hunt, isn't it? I never expected to really find One-Eyed Willy."

"Who's that?" I asked.

"Mikey's boyfriend!" Mouth yelled.

"He is not!" Mikey retorted. "He's a pirate. And he's my friend. But you can't meet him, 'cause he's sailing the seas now."

To make a long story short, they told me their tale of how they had outsmarted the Fratellis, found pirate's treasure, and befriended a disfigured man by the name of Sloth.

"What happened to Sloth?" I asked.

"He lives at the hospital now," Chunk said sadly. "He can't really take care of himself."

"He's made a lot of progress, though," Andy told me. "He can speak in complete sentences now. It's a shame they kept him chained to the wall like a common animal."

I wanted to say that common animals should not be chained to the wall either, but I kept my mouth shut.

"Does this mean we're going, then?" Mikey asked, his eyes twinkling excitedly.

Brand sighed. "I don't know how we are going to get there..."

"On account of you failed your driver's test," Chunk put in.

"Shut up, Chunk." Brand put his arm around Andy's shoulders. "I don't know if we should. I mean, if we ask our parents, they'll obviously say no. Especially after what happened last time. I have no idea how to get out of Astoria."

"We can't walk a hundred miles," said Mouth. "And even if we could, it would take forever. The police would be after us in a matter of hours. We'd be home–and grounded–before you could say 'Jajowe.'"

Everyone put their heads down in thought. I felt out of place. I knew I wasn't going to be invited. But if I wasn't, I'd have to get involved and pretend I didn't know what was going on...either that, or report them to the authorities. So I just stood quietly and looked down like everyone else.

Suddenly Mikey spoke up. "Hey Brand, remember that thing we saw on the news last night? About the livestock train breaking down near our station?"

Brand nodded. "Where are you getting at?"

"If I remember correctly, the railway it was on goes right through Jajowe."

"A train, Brand!" Andy cried. "Could we take the train? We could get a car...all to ourselves..." She caressed his cheek. I turned away, disgusted. Pathetic. My own boyfriend back in Vermont would ask me if I was feeling ok if I ever did that to him. I could only imagine what Andy and Brand would do if they got a train car all to themselves.

"So are we going or what?" Data piped up.

Brand nodded. "Get your things, boys, we're going to Jajowe!"

That was fast. Leaving town just like that. No planning, anything. No problem, I love spontaneity. Or I would, if I was going.

Then, "Luna, are you coming?" It was Andy's voice.

"No way," said Mouth. "She'd slow us down. Girls slow us down."

"Oh, like Chunk doesn't?" came Data's voice.

"So I'm not invited either?" Andy asked.

"Of course you are," said Brand.

"Yeah, because she's your girlfriend," Mouth muttered. Apparently he had the same kind of feelings towards Andy as I did.

"If you leave me behind," I said tentatively, "I'll tell the sheriff." Ha, I had them cornered. They had no choice. It was mean, but clever. I expected to be bombarded with rude comments, or for everyone to stand there in shock, but Mouth burst out laughing.

"You really are loony," he said, "and know how to drive a bargain!"

"Thanks, I suppose."

"Ok," said Brand. "We'll meet back here in one hour, with backpacks. If anyone asks, we're going hiking, all right? Put whatever you think you'll need in your pack–clothes, nonperishables, sleeping bags, anything! Money would be great, if we end up not finding anything we need to find some way to pay a fare back to Astoria. Everybody out. My mom will be home in three hours, I want to be as far away as possible before then."