Secret Treasures

Anthony remembered watching his grandfather painting. There was the smell of oil paints and thinners and the sounds of the brush swishing and grandfather humming. Grandfather used a wooden box to store his paints. Anthony loved the squishy tubes and bright colours.

When his grandfather died, the box and an old painting were given to Anthony with a note that said, “You will know what to do with these.”

“What old junk!” Anthony’s brother said scornfully.

Anthony ran upstairs and banged the door to his room. He gripped the box and painting tightly while hot tears ran down his cheeks.

His mom came in and hugged him.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “Your brother is going through a difficult stage.”

“Mom, I need a hammer,” Anthony said.

“What for?” his mom asked suspiciously.

“To hang the picture,” Anthony said.

Then they both looked at each other and smiled.

He was banging a hook into his wall when part of the plaster fell away. He found that one of the bricks underneath was loose and carefully he edged it out.

“Perfect,” he said and slid the wooden box into the space left by the brick.

He banged another nail into the wall and hung the painting over the hole. This way, mom would not get upset, and he had a secret hiding place.