Free The Goonies by James Kahn

holding the parchment in front of me, “if it's thirty paces… one… two… three…” I began to walk.
    Data stopped me, though. “No, Mikey. Your feet are too small. We must do this scientifically.” He took a calculator out of
     his backpack.
    Mouth pushed Data out of the way, though. “Paces are paces. You think this Willy dude had a calculator?” He started walking
     in the direction I'd started, with much longer strides. Right toward the restaurant.
    He counted off the paces like Elmer Fudd. “One… two… twee… Shhh! Be vewy vewy quiet! I'm hunting wabbits! Hee hee hee heel”
     That's the way he let off nervous energy, you know, clowning around.
    He kept walking, though, and we followed. I was excited—we were all really in it together now. Mouth was trying to be a big
     shot, and Stef was trying to see him fall on his face. Chunk was scared but stickin' with his Goony brothers. And Andy was
     gettin' coy with Brand.
    “Poor Troy,” I heard her say. “Guess he won't be makin' out with anybody for a while. Boy, am I gonna miss that.” Then she
     snuggled up real close to Brand and said softer, “C'mon, Brandy. Let's get out of here. Graveyards freak me out.”
    I didn't have to look—I could hear the gleam in Brand's eye. He was sizin' this up as the best night of his life. I saw him
     turn back with her, but then he stopped and said, “I can't leave without my brother. Just hold on, one second…”
    We were already at the front door of the place by the time he caught up with us, though.
    The front door was locked. Mouth tried it. I tried it. Nothin' doin'.
    Chunk was standing there real tense, and that gave Mouth an idea. “Hey, Chunk,” he said, “I got some naked Polaroids of your
     mom takin' a bath. Wanna buy 'em cheap?”
    That was Chunk's last straw. He charged at Mouth like a linebacker. At the last second Mouth dodged out of the way, and, Chunk
     smashed into the door, breaking the old rusty lock that was holding it closed, and falling into the front room.
    Another Chunky accident. Mouth laughed like Eddie Haskel on
Leave It to Beaver
and casually walked inside.
    Chunk was really upset now. He brushed himself off as he stood. “Now my mom's really gonna kill me. I'll have to pay for this
     door out of my allowance, and my dad's gonna cut my allowance off—
    “Chunk,” I whispered, “we're all gonna be rich.”
    Andy shouted from outside. “I'm going home. You guys are gonna get in big trouble!”
    I saw her turn to go, and she walked right into a big stone gargoyle sitting on one of the tombstones. She jumped about a
     foot in the air and then trotted over to us—to Brand, actually, who hugged her like a brave soldier, which meant he was with
     us now for sure, since he wasn't about to be shown up in front of Andy by his wimpy little brother.
    Inside, Mouth kept counting paces, back with his Elmer Fudd routine. “Twenty-eight… twenty-nine… toity. This is it! That wascally
     wabbit must be under here!”
    Stef rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “You can stop auditioning to be popular. You don't impress rue anymore.”
    “I'd rather dive into a swimming pool full of razorblades than impress you,” he said. Which was obviously bullshit.
    I looked at the map. “We gotta get to the lowest spot.”
    “We gotta get outta here,” said Brand. His sensible half was having second thoughts. He grabbed me, but I pulled away.
    “C'mon, Brand, what's another couple a minutes gonna hurt? What if we find somethin'? Huh?” No way was I gonna leave now.
     The lowest spot beneath the place we were standing was about to make us the richest Goonies on earth.
    I opened the basement door. It was as black as a grave down there and three times as deep. I looked back at them—Mouth, Chunk,
     Data, Stef, Andy, Brand—seven of us all together. Like
The Magnificent Seven
. Made me feel like Steve McQueen. Invincible. Cool. Certain.
    I started descending the stairs, more scared than I'd ever been.