Sadie and the Squeaky-Deck Treasure

The ship went squeak, squeak, squeak—and Sadie grinned. The first treasure clue had just come true.

She stood on the deck of the little pirate ship, tucked safely into a quiet bay. The crew was finishing supper below. Soon the lamps would be turned low, and everyone would head to bed. Sadie had been promised one last adventure before bedtime: a treasure hunt for something Captain Maribel had hidden aboard.

In Sadie’s hand was a folded note. Captain Maribel had written the first clue in big, curly letters: “Find the place that squeaks when the ship gives a sleepy creak.” Sadie stepped near the mast. Squeak! She stepped again. Squeak! The ship rocked gently, and the mast ropes hummed.

“Step, squeak; pause, listen,” Sadie whispered, just as the captain had taught her. She crouched and peered between the boards. There, tucked beside the mast, was another folded note. “Aha!” she said. “The clue was right.”

The second note read: “Go where the deck squeaks beside the cook’s warm little kitchen.” Sadie hurried toward the galley. Her boot landed on a board. Squeak! Then another board answered with a squeak of its own. She tried the first one again. Squeak. The second one squeaked, too.

“Step, squeak; pause, listen,” she said. She checked beneath both boards, then looked behind a basket of onions. Nothing. A loose spoon in the galley drawer rattled when the ship rocked, but that wasn’t a clue. Sadie smiled anyway. “This ship has more squeaks than a family of mice.”

She followed the note’s words along the deck, listening carefully. Near the galley door, a small paper corner peeked from beneath a coil of rope. Sadie lifted the rope and found the next clue. The ship creaked around her, as if it were trying to offer helpful advice.

The new note said, “Where the deck squeaks by the sailors’ bunks, look below.” Sadie glanced toward the warm cabin. Bedtime was getting close. She tucked the note into her pocket and set off to search before the crew came up to say good night.

The bunks were lined along the cabin wall, each with a blanket folded at its foot. Sadie stepped across the deck near the first bunk. Squeak! Near the second bunk: squeak! By the third: squeak, squeak!

“Step, squeak; pause, listen,” she whispered. She knelt to look under the bunks, but found only slippers, a wooden button, and one very sleepy cat named Tansy. Tansy opened one eye, gave a tiny meow, and went back to dozing.

Sadie checked the deck around every bunk. Several boards squeaked in just the same way. She pressed each one carefully, but none lifted. The ship gave a slow creak as the bay rocked it. Sadie’s shoulders drooped. “How can I find the right squeak when every place has one?”

Then she remembered the captain’s last hint, written on the back of the bunk clue. Sadie turned the paper over. “At the last board, listen for a high note, like a little bird calling.”

Sadie stood still. The ship rocked. A low squeak came from near the wall. She tried another board. A low squeak answered. Then she stepped closer to a narrow plank just beside her bunk. It gave a sound like “squeee!”—higher than all the others.

Sadie stepped away and listened. Low squeak. She stepped near the narrow plank again. “Squeee!” Sadie’s eyes widened. “That’s the bird note!”

“Step, squeak; pause, listen,” she said, and this time she knew what she was listening for. She pressed the edge of the plank. It shifted a little. Sadie worked her fingers beneath it and lifted. The board came up with a small wooden clack.

Underneath sat a square box with a brass latch. Sadie opened it carefully. Inside were dozens of tiny bells, round and bright, nestled in a blue cloth. A final note lay on top: “A treasure is best when its music is shared.”

Sadie smiled at the bells. She chose a few small ones for the hook beside her bunk. Then she wrapped the rest in the cloth, closed the box, and set it back beneath the plank. “The whole crew should get to enjoy this,” she whispered. She lowered the board into place and went to tell Captain Maribel what she had found.

Captain Maribel was sitting at the little table, folding a chart. When Sadie showed her the bells, the captain’s eyebrows rose like two surprised waves.

“You found them!” she said. “And you listened for the right squeak.”

Sadie placed the bell box in the middle of the table. “I took just a few for my bunk. The rest can stay here for everyone.”

“Just the sort of choice a good shipmate makes,” said Captain Maribel. She called the crew up from the galley. One by one, they came into the cabin, still carrying the cozy smells of supper: warm bread, cinnamon, and a little bit of onion.

Sadie showed them where the box was tucked beneath the loose plank. The cook chose a bell for the galley door. The mapmaker picked one to hang beside the chart table. Tansy the cat sniffed the bells, then settled into a round, furry loaf on the captain’s chair.

The crew hung a few bells in different places around the ship. They left the rest together in the box, ready for another evening when everyone might want to hear them. Sadie fastened her own little bells to a hook beside her bunk. They made a merry sound when she gave them a tiny shake.

“Now we know the ship’s squeaks,” said the cook. “And we know which one sings the highest.”

“Step, squeak; pause, listen,” Sadie replied. The crew chuckled softly. Outside, the quiet bay rocked the ship with slow, easy sways. The deck creaked here and there, but Sadie no longer hurried to search. She knew the treasure was safe, and she knew she had shared it well.

Captain Maribel tucked Sadie’s blanket around her shoulders. The others said good night and padded off to their bunks. Sadie settled in, listening to the familiar creak of the ship and the hush of water against its sides.

Whenever the ship rocked, one little bell beside her bunk gave a soft chime. Sadie smiled at its tiny song, closed her eyes, and let the peaceful ship carry her gently into bedtime.