What was lost…
copyright 2011 Faeriemage
Treasure is in the eye of the beholder, and no this isn't a D&D reference.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a fantastical representation of both MIT and environs. I make no claim that I know how anything is situated.

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Dear Mr. Jacob Peters,

The admissions committee has reviewed your application to MIT…

No, that's not the actual text that was in the letter, nor do I remember it. I think mom framed it and put it on the wall. Me, my stomach fell through the floor. I'd applied almost on a whim, and completely without any inkling that they would allow me in.

Not that I had poor grades, or because of lack of extracurricular activities. No, I had those in spades.

The real reason is that all of the people who I was up against for the limited slots for undergraduates had transcripts the equal of my own.

I didn't have the heart to tell mom that my pitiful college fund would not be enough to even really begin paying for MIT. Maybe with a loan, a job, and the seventy thousand in the fund, I would make it through two years…or possibly more. I hadn't checked the semester costs recently.

Ok, let's be a little more serious.

The costs are approximately $55,000 for nine months worth of schooling. Assuming going home over the summer semester, then that is my yearly cost.

Without any loan, then I could handle about a year and a half. With a loan, I could probably get through the five years of an engineering degree.

But then I'd be on the hook for $200,000.

"Honey, you've always wanted to go to this school. I'm so proud of you."

Why does your mother have to make your life a living hell just by making such small statements?

"I'm so happy, Mom. This is the coolest."

What else was I supposed to say?

I'd just committed myself to a school that would cost me $275,000 over the next five years. This barely covered food.

Now, I'm not a foodie by any stretch of the imagination. More I'm one of those guys who can live on ramen and not complain about it. Mom and I had actually lived on rice and butter for six months during high school.

You do what you need to do to survive, and sometimes that means eating things that just aren't that interesting.

So, the first thing I would cut out of my budget would be food. The second would be entertainment. All I'd need to do would be to find a good role playing group, one who didn't mind my character proclivities, and I'd be set.

Not that there's anything wrong with my characters, just that I always play a girl. Hot, plain, tall, short, fat or thin. It doesn't matter to me, and I've played them all. I just always play a girl. Now, don't go reading anything into it. Julie, my previous DM, tried to get me to talk to her therapist. Something about me being transgendered or something.

From playing Girls in our role playing sessions?

Come on, there are lots of guys who do that. I mean, why would there be a joke about it otherwise. You know the one I'm talking about. The alternate meaning of MMORPG?

No?

Many Men Online Role Playing Girls?

Forget I said anything then.

Regardless, here I was, contemplating my future, and I realized for the first time that I would not be going to any future local sessions with my group.

Well, we all knew that was likely to change. Especially since one of our players was off to Harvard. Another would be going to Oxford, of all places. Well, the time of fun in basements had to come to an end sometime, but the seven of us had been playing together since I was twelve.

Six years.

And now? Now I would be off to a whole new adventure.

Packing up my things wasn't a big chore. I had few articles of clothing, and fewer other possessions that I would be taking with me. I would be packing light. Since I would be travelling by bus, not the most enjoyable method of travel, but the cheapest by far, I wanted to take hardly anything with me.

I don't need to tell you what it's like traveling by bus. Either you've done it, in which case you don't want a reminder, or you haven't, in which case nothing I say will make you understand. I'm sure there are people who like to travel by bus, but I'm not one of them.

I slept, I talked to a few people, and I looked out at the scenery.

Ok, so I do enjoy watching the world go by at the speed of a car. Before dad left we took a lot of vacations as a family. Colorado is a great place to start from. Course it seemed as if every trip we took lead us through Las Vegas.

And lots of winding mountain roads.

And tons of construction. It seems that when everyone else gets a vacation, the road crews just begin their work.

Regardless, I developed the ability to simply stare out a window and watch the miles, and hours, melt away. It is relaxing in a zen sort of way. But even so, sharing a smelly bus with people who want to do nothing but regale you with stories of the cats they left at home…

The trip was over and I found myself in Cambridge, Massachusetts with only two weeks until class started to kill. I was registered, had a dorm room to call my own. I moved myself in, with the couple of changes of clothing I owned, and went to purchase my books.

A thousand dollars poorer and I had all the books I needed for my first semester of classes.

I wandered around the school, watching the people who were going to the summer semester go from class to class, and a feeling of peace entered me. I was supposed to be here.

I just smiled and walked around.

Eventually, my wandering lead me to the student center, and I gravitated toward the bulletin board. I'd had some thought that a role playing group might be advertising here, but that wasn't the case. People looking for new roommates. People selling old furniture. People offering services from maid to computer repair. And off in one corner, a little older than the rest and given what seemed a place of honor there was a single, off white, 3x5 note card.

If you are reading this, then I can use someone like you. Not everyone thinks to look for the old and faded when there are so many other newer and flashier offers on hand. Hands is what I need, preferably young and strong, but any will do. If you are still reading this, then call me at the number below. Ask for Stan.

I was intrigued to say the least, so I walked over to the nearest payphone and called the number. I took the card with me.

"Hello?"

"I'm looking for Stan?"

"You found him. What can I do for you?"

"I'm in the MIT student center and…"

"You saw my card, huh?"

"Yes."

"Have to say that in the fifteen years that card has sat there, your one of the few that has called me. So, are you afraid of a little hard work…what was your name?"

"Jake."

"Isn't that a boy's name?"

I blushed. Even at eighteen, my voice was still high, and it embarrassed me all too often.

"My name is Jacob Peters, Stan. I am male."

"Sorry, you're a prodigy or something."

"No, just have a nice Irish tenor."

"Gotcha. So, Jake, why don't you meet me Saturday morning at Allied Storage. I'll need you to help me sort through some stuff. Get there before nine and I will explain a little more about what it is that I do."

"Ok, Stan. How will I recognize you?"

"I'll be the guy in the bowler."

"People still wear those?"

"Not that I know of, which is why I use one to identify myself."

I shook my head at the concept, and said my goodbyes. That would be on Saturday. Until then, there would be an entire week in which I had nothing to do.

I went back to my dorm to find the other bed taken up by my new roommate.

"Hey, you must be Jake, right?"

"I'm sorry, how did you know my name?"

"I requested a freshman be put with me. Name's Brad. Well, I'm a freshman too, I think. Started as soon as high school let me out. Summer you know. Figure I want to get done with this formality as soon as possible."

"You talk too fast, Brad."

"Sorry, just a bit nervous. Never had a room mate before, and you seem…well…sorry. Not my place."

"Seem what, Brad."

"Jake, you seem a little gay."

"What?"

"Maybe that's girly. I mean look…"

He gestured around the room. My side was neatly organized. My books were already on the shelf on my side of the room. My clothes were hanging up, or put away. My bed was made, using sheets and a comforter. The comforter had taken up most of my luggage space. Nothing screamed girl to me. The bedding was blue. A deep royal one. The clothing was button shirts and slacks. I had sneakers and dress shoes and a couple of pairs of sandals.

It's not like I put up curtains…of course now that I thought about it, I considered what curtains would look best in our room.

I shook myself and looked at Brad's side of the room. It was cluttered bordering on downright messy.

"Brad, I think the word you're looking for is organized."

"Then you're not..gay?"

"No, I'm not going to attack you in the middle of the night. Even if I were gay, I'm pretty sure you wouldn't be my type. You're too…geeky."

"Looks who's talking, nerd."

We laughed at this. I was wearing a short sleeved button shirt and a pair of beige knee length shorts. I think he was right.

"This is what I like to wear, okay. Deal with it."

"I like you, Jake. You're alright. So, some of the guys and I play touch football on Saturdays. Wanna come out and play with us?"

"I've always been more of a D&D guy myself, but I could play with you all."

"You really are a nerd."

"Yeah, but you're here too."

"Not every person here is a nerd or a geek or whatever, Jake. This is a diverse campus."

"Yeah, I figured."

"Well, good luck finding a role play group. And if you find one, let me know. I might consider joining."

I laughed at this. Ok, it was sort of a titter. I was always embarrassed at my real laugh, and usually tried to 'man' it up. I forgot this time, and it caused Brad to almost fall down laughing.

I couldn't help it, I started laughing as well, which set Brad off even more.

"I have to run off to class, Jake. See you later, 'kay?"

"Bye, Brad."

I lay down on my bed, and began to read my text books. I had nothing else to do, and it never hurts to be prepared.

"So, Jake, I thought your classes didn't start for a couple of weeks."

"Eek." I jumped.

Brad began laughing.

"Stop that, it's not funny."

"Dude, you really need to stop doing things like that. Let your hair grow a bit and everyone's going to think you're a girl."

"Not funny, Brad."

"It's freakinilarious, Jake."

"Huh?"

"Never mind. So, you ready to come down to dinner? Want to introduce you to the rest of the guys."

"But I thought that the cafeteria didn't open til…six…huh. Where did the day go?"

Brad laughed at me as I got up and followed him out the door.

The cafeteria served the quad of buildings around it, which meant a couple of hundred students. We slipped in, and a group of guys waved at brad. We made our way through the line, grabbed our food, and sat down next to the other four.

"Guys, my new roommate, Jake. Jake, this is Seth, Aaron, Michael who prefers Kelly for some reason, and Liam."

"Kelly?"

"Too many mikes in my high school. In my sophomore year I decided that everyone should call me Kelly, since there wasn't a single one of those in the school. My best friend decided that was a good idea and he picked Brent."

"How many Michaels were there?"

"Fifty seven."

"You're kidding…right?"

"Nope. Inner city school, and everyone wanted another Jordan, I think."

It was funny. I hadn't even noticed that he was…well…darker skinned than the other guys. He wasn't what I would call black, he looked more Latin to me, but now that he mentioned it…

I blushed and looked away. I'd been staring.

"Sorry, it is just…"

"Don't worry about it. Mom was born in Ireland, and so was my dad's mom. Seems the guys in my family keep finding our wives in Ireland. You're not Irish are you?"

My jaw dropped open, and before I could say anything Brad spoke up, "He's my roommate."

Kelly blushed and the rest of us laughed.

"Sorry, man. my fault. You just sound so…well…"

"I know. It sucks to be me. When everyone else was getting deeper voices, I just stayed the same."

"Did you consider you might have a medical condition? I knew this kid in school who everyone thought was a boy…"

"Yes, we did the tests. The doctors just think that my body might not be ready for puberty yet. No reason they can find. I have grown, though, so at least there's that. And hey, I only have to shave once a week."

"Dude, I so wish," Seth said.

We laughed at this. I made sure to get a little more of a chuckle than my normal titter.

The rest of the week was more of the same. I finished my first text book, Introduction to Psychology, on Friday. It was fascinating. Well, in a weird disturbing sort of way.

We continued to eat in the cafeteria as a group. All of us were freshmen, and none of us wanted to pledge. Brad initially thought that was why I'd come to school early, but no. I had no interest in a fraternity.

Saturday morning, I was too excited to sleep. I didn't know why I was so excited, but I was. Something about the unknown always thrilled me.

I got up, got dressed, and slipped out into the predawn for a brisk five mile walk to the storage facility.

Stan looked ridiculous. He had the darkest skin I had ever seen. It was almost iridescent. He had eyes that looked black in the light from the street lamp and hair that was as white as new driven snow. He had a stubbly beard and a ready smile.

"Stan?"

"I recognize that voice. Hi, Jake. you ready to go treasure hunting?"

"Treasure hunting?"

"Yeah. You see, people hire storage companies to hold their stuff. When they fail to pay for long enough, the storage company auctions off the storage units to pay for the loss. You get a couple of days to clear it all out, and whatever is in there, is yours to keep."

"Ok, but how is this treasure hunting?"

"People store the strangest things, and usually it is things that are valuable to them. Sometimes, more often than not, these things are valuable to other people as well."

"I'm with you so far."

"I have contacts with antiques dealers, second hand clothes shops, jewelers, and so on that I sell my goods to. Well, not the antiques dealers or the jewelers. They sell them in their shops and then give me a cut of the profits."

"So, this is a business."

"Pretty good one for me. If you learn the ropes, you might be able to do this for yourself."

"But, I'd be in competition with you."

"So? There are more storage units than I can afford, and as you've seen, I'm not a young man. I do this for the thrill of discovery. If you stick with me for at least three months then I'll personally put in a good word with my people."

He stuck out his hand to me, and I shook it.

"Ok, I can do that."

"Great. The auctions begin in a couple of minutes, so let's head in and see what we have."

I listened as Stan talked to the owner about how long the units had been paid up before the payments lapsed. Some had been here for years, and some only a couple of months.

Stan pushed the hardest on the ones that had been here for the longest. The one Stan picked up went for 3500 dollars.

The owner of the facility cut the lock, and Stan slapped one of his own in place. Then he handed me a lock, and seven thousand dollars.

"Now I want to see if you were paying attention."

We went on, and I didn't even bid on the first two. The third however, caught my eye for the name, more than the length of time that it had been here. DAR was prominent at the end of the name line, and I had a feeling about it. They'd kept up their payments for the first two months, and then nothing since.

"I'll be opening up the bids at fifty dollars for this one."

"Fifty."

"One hundred."

"One ten."

"One thousand."

There was a gasp from Stan, and the auctioneer guppied for a moment, but no one else said anything.

"Going to the girl for one thousand…sold."

He snipped the lock, and I stood there. Stan stood there next to me. They walked a bit away and so I held my breath and opened the door.

"Shit…"

Stan said nothing more for a moment as we simply stood there looking at the contents of the storage locker. It was row after row of colonial period dresses. Some were obvious reproductions, but many had the look of time hanging about them. They were mounted on museum racks and they just looked out at us from the locker.

They took my breath away.

I'd never seen anything as pretty as that. I wanted to go in there and touch them, but common sense kept me from doing it.

"I doubt we'll be able to get the entire thousand back, but that is a good eye, Jackie."

"Jake."

"Yeah, Jake. Sorry. I've never seen this much history in a single locker."

Stan pulled out his cell phone and began making calls. I stood there looking at the dresses.

Eventually, a stern looking woman came up to us and looked into the locker. "Thanks, Stan. You were right to call us. You know that my museum doesn't have the money to afford…"

"Becky, just take the damn dresses. I'll get my thousand back another way."

"A thousand? You only had to pay…here. Take the five I brought with me. I thought that something like this would have gone for a lot more."

"It was Jake here. We might have gotten it for less if I hadn't jumped the gun. No one else wanted to go above five hundred."

"Stan, the only reason the other's dropped off at a thousand is that I jumped so much further ahead of them. Both of the other people in the bidding had gone as high as two thousand on other lockers without winning. They were shocked that I broke protocol."

Stan laughed at me, and Becky smiled.

"This is a shrewd one, Stan. Hold onto him. So, we still on for dinner this evening?"

"Of course. Here's the key for the lock. We have another locker to look into."

We closed the door and put the lock in place.

"Another? Don't you usually only do one a week?"

"With Jake to help me, I figure I can do two for a while."

"Good luck you two."

"Thanks, Becky."

We walked over to the other locker, and opened it up. Inside, in a wooden frame, was the largest chandelier I'd ever seen.

"Damn, but if you aren't a good luck charm, Jake."

"Why? It's just a chandelier."

"You have a lot to learn, Jackie-boy."

He got on his phone, again, and talked for a few minutes with an Edgar.

"He thinks it's likely a pre-civil war piece that didn't get destroyed in the sacking of the south. He'll have to check in person, but if it is, then this is likely worth somewhere between five and six thousand to us when it sells."

"So, we made about seven thousand today?"

"Yes, we did."

I was shocked. Seven thousand…in one week.

"Well, actually. I made twenty-five hundred. You made four thousand."

"But, I mean, it was your money."

"Well, if you don't have the thousand, then I can always…"

"Can you come by my dorm? I've got the money there."

"Jake, what are you holding in your hand?"

I was still holding the five thousand that Becky had given me. I blushed and counted out a thousand of it for Stan.

"In the future, I'm not fronting you anything. Do this with your own money. And in the future, we split the proceeds evenly, ok? This one was to reward you for having a better instinct at this than I do. How did you know what was in that locker?"

"D A R."

He looked at me for a moment, blankly, and then he started laughing. "I'm getting too old for this, it seems. Either that or no one else made the connection. Daughters of the American Revolution. Good catch, Jackie-boy."

I let his nickname pass. I'd been called worse, and at least he recognized I was a guy.

When Edgar arrived with a couple of guys to look at the chandelier, he increased his estimate by a little bit. It was apparently leaded crystal and not just cut glass. I still don't really know the difference.

I said goodbye to Stan, agreeing to meet him at Adamantium Secure Storage next week, and headed home.

I had just lain on the bed when I felt myself being shaken. "Jake, you coming?"

"Huh?"

"Football?"

I got up and followed Brad and the guys out to the field where they played. We weren't the only ones there, but we were the biggest group. There was a girl out there with us, but I quickly learned to give her a wide berth. Sure, it was called touch football, but she almost tackled anyone with the ball. It seemed like she had something to prove to the rest of us.

Our team won by a couple of touchdowns, not that we were really keeping score.

We went into the cafeteria for dinner after we all took time out to shower.

"Hey, guys, why don't we rent a house together."

Sean looked hopefully around the table.

"Is that the best idea?"

"I'm up for it," I responded.

"It can get a little expensive, Jake, I know that you are a little tight for cash…"

"I'm actually good, Brad. Sure, it might be a onetime thing, but I might have a job that can pay for my school and some other things."

"Huh?"

"I made four thousand this morning."

"Jake, you know that prostitution is illegal," Kelly said.

"Jerk, no, I found some museum quality dresses in a storage locker. Got paid five thousand for them. After the thousand I paid for the locker…"

"You can make money doing that?"

"Apparently. My partner made three thousand."

"You're sure you're not just saying this so that we don't rat you out for whoring?"

"Kelly?"

"It's a legitimate concern, Brad."

"Guys, you can come with me at nine next Saturday if you really want to see."

"In the morning?" Sean asked.

"Yes in the morning."

"No thanks." There was laughter at this, but nods of agreement from the other guys.

"So, about the house…"

"Can we ask my girlfriend to join us," Kelly asked.

"You know the rules about co-ed dorms," Seth said.

"There are rules?" I asked.

Liam snorted, "Of a sort. Basically, any co-ed buildings have to have separate rooms for male and female students, and in general the numbers of men to women need to be even, or close to it."

"Wait, what?"

Aaron picked up the thread, "Yeah, stupid, but that is the rule. Supposedly the even number is to keep us all honest or something."

I shook my head at this, but smiled.

"Well, then, let's do it."

We spent the rest of the day online looking for a house. I knew that it would mean not eating in the cafeteria, but that would save me money in the long run. Ramen and rice are less even than what I was paying for my food here in the cafeteria.

I'd save all of the money I could and then when I was ready, I could focus on nothing but school, and then I'd be done and have no debt hanging over me.

It was a perfect plan.

Most of the next week, we looked into housing. We finally found a four bedroom house just off campus, and we were really happy with it. Kelly and Aaron would share a room. So would Liam and Seth. That let Brad and I solo.

Since I paid the security deposit, they figured that it was only fair. I think Brad was still uncomfortable around me for some reason.

Saturday morning I came to Adamantium prepared. I brought ten thousand with me. It would be enough, I hoped, for anything that came along.

I didn't make out this time as well as last. I paid four thousand for clothing and a couple of chairs. Stan paid three hundred for a tiffany lamp. Between the two of us we cleared a thousand each.

Not the four thousand I'd made last week, but it was a positive increase. That would be fifty-two thousand a year. I could live with that.

We finished moving into the new house after I came back from the storage facility. I played football with the other guys, and then went back to the storage facility. I had to sort the clothing out into usable and unusable. I folded all of it, dusted it, and ended up with a few boxes for Stan's second hand store. They paid me seven hundred for the lot.

The chairs were worth thirty eight hundred dollars.

The lamp was worth just under two thousand.

There were other things in Stan's locker, but nothing worth really anything.

I went home and lay on my bed and stared at the ceiling. I could do this. I could.