“It’s really pretty up here.” I said to myself in a low voice, only just noticing the view from the rooftop of the Folly Theater. A small park was directly down on my left, I didn’t know what it was called. It had a nice waterfall type fountain along the north side. Steps surrounded and lead to the high ground in the middle of the man-made park. There were some trees, lots of picnic tables, and what looked like the remains of a tennis court. Mostly, there was concrete. But, hey, it was still a park.

To my left there were tall buildings, mostly hotels and corporate offices, that ran all the way down 12th Street . Kansas City felt bigger than I expected. It was large and foreign to me, never really having been a city-dweller. No one seemed to take notice of me as I had climbed the fire escape (I think it was a fire escape) up to the top of this building. I rationalized that there wasn’t a sign saying not to and, plus, I was from out of town.

The city was great, but adventures weren’t quite the same in an urban environment. Perhaps, I was getting a little old for adventures, anyway. I had just graduated high school. My family had moved to the city at the beginning of the summer to allow my brother an easier commute to his school. Soon, I would start college in the city, joining him. It was beginning to be the time to let go of childish things. But enough of all that, back to my scavenger hunt.

That is basically what Geocaching is, a scavenger hunt of sorts. Online there are lists of caches to hunt for, and after selecting one in my zip code the coordinates are given. Utilizing a basic GPS, I then track down a box that is known as a “geocache” and various things happen from there. Every cache has a logbook to sign and tell of what you found in the box. The rule is that you can take any trinkets left in the box, but you have to leave something of equal value. Mostly, there was never anything of great value, but it was always something interesting. 

Other times the cache had instructions to locate further treasures. Or it would spur an actual scavenger hunt around the neighborhood to find another cache with no GPS location. It was all very fantasy inducing and, typically, very outdoorsy. I hadn’t expected to be able to play in the city. I was excited, and a little nervous about what I might find in the box (the first cache I found in the city had had a condom in it).

It was, of course, against the rules to leave inappropriate materials in the boxes, and anyone that takes the time to purchase a GPS as well as put time into searching for hidden boxes (like a big geek) is going to take the game seriously. But sometimes the easy-to-find caches were found at random by people that didn’t understand. In any case, although I recognized the game to be quite dorky, it was free and innocent fun. Rarely did it lead to trouble. 

My GPS beeped off to the northwest and I crossed the roof to the other edge. The sky was clear and there was no wind. I began to sweat in the sunlight and dropped my bag off my shoulder as I neared the coordinates. This was supposed to be a difficult cache to find, or at least it hadn’t been found in almost a year by anyone else.

At the very edge of the roof I came to where the box should have been hidden. Instead, there was a white arrow etched into the concrete, pointing to the west. Under it the word “down” was scrawled deep. I peeked over the edge and glanced at the drop. It was about eight feet to a lower section of rooftop. Smiling, I popped my GPS into my bag and slung it over the edge. It dropped soundly on the blacktop below.

My handy pack was from a military surplus store, because green was always my favorite color and I felt like it made me look rugged (or something). It had many things in it that I would never end up needing on a city adventure, or perhaps any adventure, but I always kept it packed the same.

Pack contents: Rope, swiss army knife, pants, long sleeve shirt, lighter, clove cigars (because, thats why), flashlight, notebook, pen, pencil, GPS, extra batteries, plastic baggies (for the cache treasures), gloves, socks, a twenty, a copy of the book “Hatchet” as well as an actual (although very small) hatchet, a Raphael TMNT action figure, a double sided coin, floss, and gum. Everything needed to survive a fictional adventure.

After witnessing my bag survive the fall I decided I could make it, too. I lowered myself over the side of the building and slid down a wall. I ended up only dropping a few feet. It wasn’t bad, although I had failed to think of how I would get back up…

So, I ignore it and searched around for the next clue. The section of roof I was on was quite bare and didn’t cover much area. I didn’t understand why it was even here. Then I looked across, to the west, at the next building. There was another ladder hanging down into the alley below, except that it didn’t go down to the ground or to a staircase like the last one had. It was short and hung precariously. 

Along the right side there was a thin yellow arrow pointing up. It was maybe a five foot jump to the ladder from the edge of the rooftop, at least (I’m bad at guessing mathematical amounts). The ladder was thin and old, and it lead to the next rooftop, where the cache probably hid. I would have to jump. There was a fifteen or twenty foot drop if I failed to grab onto the ladder. I shook my head. No way.

“No way.” I said to no one.

“I won’t do it.”

But there was no other way down. I analyzed the jump a few times, practiced jumping along the rooftop with my pack on (no doubt raising attention to people in the building beneath me). It wasn’t that far, actually, and I felt foolish for being scared, but this would certainly be a stupid way to break several bones. 

“I was geocaching, doctor…”

“I don’t know that that is.”

“Its where you blah blah blah.”

“And you thought that was worth risking your life? Furthermore, how could you not make that jump, you a big pussy or something?”

“Geez, doc…”

The fictional conversation ended abruptly and I ran to the edge of the roof. I was grappled onto the iron ladder almost instantly. I didn’t even remember jumping. The ladder didn’t give under my weight, or even vibrate from my landing. I laughed aloud. That was stupidly easy, and I climbed up to the next challenge.

I imagined I was dressed in a green tunic and held my fist out with an imaginary sword. I hoped for an intricate puzzle involving giant blocks or deflecting lasers, but the rooftop had only a few air conditioning units and fans. I saw the next clue quickly. Another arrow, large and painted orange. I was getting warmer.

The arrow started from a big metal box and ran to the edge of this rooftop at the north. I peeked into the alley below, no ladders or lower levels to go to. The next building was a bit too far to jump to, however. The big metal box, perhaps an air conditioner, looked different than the other structures up here. It had strange hinges in various corners and seams along random sections. 

I went behind it and pushed it, jokingly, like my favorite video game hero might have had he been here. It gave a little under my push. I looked around. Nobody was here (duh). I pushed harder and it fell over, out of the sunken square hold it had been in. The side that had been the bottom said “Top” on it. I toppled it again and the cube was now right side up. It still looked like nothing, though.

I scooted it to the edge where I realized it could slide into metal brackets on the side of the building. This was overly intricate, I thought. Once, my friend, Matt, and I had to set a hay bale on fire to get to a geocache hidden inside. That had been the most extreme hunt we had ever been on. Hunts for caches were almost always straight-forward. I was a ‘hippie sport’ to most, like disc golf, and people were content with it being a simple game. 

As I slid the box into place it fell over the edge slightly and immediately started falling apart. 

“Shit.”

Gravity did all the work and the box seemed to magically disassemble itself into a strange stairway. The interior wasn’t chrome, but rot iron, and strong in appearance. I felt as if I shouldn’t trust something so absurd, but the flimsy ladder from moments earlier had held me, so…

At the end of the six foot staircase (hanging like a piece of contemporary artwork) was an another damn arrow. It was red and pointing to a busted out window in the warehouse across the alley. Great, more jumping. 

I made my way down the metal contraption slowly. I had to commit. The jump wouldn’t be bad, but I had no clue of the type of landing that awaited me through the window. The sun was slightly in my eyes, and I couldn’t see into the warehouse at all. It was only darkness. 

I tossed my bag in first. It made an instant clump onto what sounded like wooden scaffolding (yes, I distinctly know the ambiance of a military bag landing on wooden scaffolding). I hopped to the window and slunk in to retrieve my prize.

It occurred to me, once inside the warehouse, that nobody had found this particular treasure box yet. At least not in this setting. Unless they had managed to put the heavy and complex stairs back together and on top of the roof afterward, which I had no intention, or way, of doing. I was excited to be the first one here. Nobody had braved the challenges to get to this cache, I was sure of it. I know it hadn’t been much at all, but it had been enough to deter most. Probably, nobody had even climbed the first ladder, I beamed. Braveness incarnate, I was.

It was dusty in here and dimly lit. The scaffolding was indeed wooden, and was the only inhabitant of the barren warehouse. Whoever owned this building must be fine with it going to waste. The high bridge I was on went from one broken window to another. The opposite window had been busted out quite violently and some of the bricks were missing from its edges. In the space of one of the missing bricks was a green, metal box. 

I hurriedly popped it open and readied a gasp. But I kept my gasp because there was nothing inside. Only a thin layer of dirt waited for me. There was no log book, and no plastic bag with a Michelangelo TMNT action figure or anything!

“The hell?”

I scraped at the bottom, like a dog. Debris loosened and a small piece of paper was unearthed. It felt thick and was glossy on the backside. It had coordinates on the top right corner (+ 36° 04.130, - 115° 08.356) and block letters in the center said, “Scavenger Hunt. DONT CALL 911.”

When I flipped it over, I found it was a photo. I dropped it and the box to the wooden panels under me. The thud echoed in the warehouse and jarred my bones. I was unsure if I had seen what I thought…

I knelt cautiously, thinking about what I should do. This had to be a sick joke. I regretted being here alone. I should have brought Matt. Or I just should not have come here. This was sick, and it enraged me.

The photo was small. It was worn on the sides by water that had gotten into the cache box. The warping didn’t obscure what was featured, however, which was a young woman. She was wearing a bright red dress and was badly beaten. Even with the bruises and cuts it was obvious she was very beautiful and young.  She was tied tight to a chair and had the classic gray duct tape over her mouth. It looked like a scene out of a horrible slasher flick. It couldn’t be real. Everything photographed could easily be make-up and acting. I was a hoax, it had to be. I shook my head.

“This is fake.” I told the empty warehouse. But even saying it, I didn’t believe myself. I put the picture back and stuffed the cache into a large plastic bag in my pack, in case it had fingerprints on it, I guess. I shook and sweat with rage and fear, looking around the giant room for an exit. I needed to pass this responsibility on to someone else.

“Congratulations, whoever. You one-upped the condom guy from yesterday. Unfortunately, even if this is a misguided joke, you will probably get into some trouble. At the very least… you will be discouraged from further participation in Geocaching, so yeah… let that sink in. Also, you’re a horrible person. God, let this be fake. How the hell do I get out of here…”