The Mountain's Money

by Jan Tailor

The Mountain’s Money

  By: Jan Tailor

  Copyright 2012

  ISBN: 978-0-9880807-4-4

  ***

  In a sense Brando was surfing. Snow is water. He made turns on his snowboard much like he would surfing. But the fantasy ended when shouts from the two ski patrollers he was with made him lose concentration. “Stop Brando,” was what he heard before catching an edge and tumbling 50 meters to the bottom of the steep section.

  Upside down with snow freezing the back of his neck, Brando was brought back to reality. Being a third down an out of bounds run freshly blanketed with a foot of powder may be paradise to many, for him it was close to paradise. A beach in the tropics with a good surf break and sun browned girls in tiny bikinis was better. He dreamt of it often.

  Brando continued to dream as he climbed up to the two ski patrollers, Mark and Jen. Brando broke a sweat during the climb and tried but failed to imagine the damp heat created during the climb was a tropical heat. Instead Brando dwelt on memories of when he was young living in the tropics.

  As Mark turned to go to the lift he yelled to Brando, “Meet you at the lift for one more run.”

  Brando followed the two ski patrollers, unable to keep up. He got his binding off his back foot with just enough time to get on the lift with the two ski patrollers.

  Jen turned to Brando and said, “Don’t ever go past that spot where we stopped, that’s a one way ticket with the next stop a walk down to the highway by the ferry.”

  “That goes to that ferry.” Brando thought out loud, “Huh, someone could take the money from the safe, go down the backside, take the ferry to the island, then the ferry to the state and fly to Mexico from there. Sun and surf and a shit load of money. My own bar and tanned ladies in bikinis.”

  Jen snorted, “You’re the security guy here, you can’t say shit like that.”

  “Just doing a risk assessment... gotta think like a criminal if you’re going to catch a criminal. Besides, I’m not like the rest of those wannabe cops.”

  Mark said, “I hear that man, keep on being different. You’re the only one who boards and doesn’t power trip at every chance you get. It was really good of you to think of erasing the names of those lost girls off the board before the reports saw that shit. Fucking reporters, vultures, need a scope so badly they publish the names of dead girls whose parents have not been told yet.” Mark spat. “That was good thing to do.”

  Jen continued, “Yeah, also it’s good you didn’t rat on us hot boxing the first aid hut on Christmas.”

  Brando smiled, “Don’t rat me out when I take the mountain’s money.”

  Jen looked bemused, “What?”

  ***

  Tipsy and definitely stoned Brando had a feeling of deja-vu. He swayed with the wind a little as the night’s clouds were lit by the orange tinted lights of the parking lot they blew into, then over the mountain. He had smoked many joints at end of the mountain’s parking lot. He passed the joint. “Shit, you don’t know how much money is on this hill. There like a hundred grand up here at anytime. On long weekend they have to bring up like $14,000 in change... like loonies, toonies and quarters.”

  Tommy, the guy next in the circle, spoke over Brando, “And one day when you’re working day shift and you’ve got to take the money to the money room you’re going to take it down the backside... right on to the ferry... bus it to Victoria... take the ferry to Washington, then Mexico with a pile of coke and a woman on each arm. Fuck man, we’ve all heard it before.” Tommy repeatedly poked Brando in the head with a finger while he said, “You fucking rent a cop on skies, there ain’t no millions of dollars lying around the mountain.”

  Shane waved off the joint, “I’ve got ten hours left in my shift. I’ve seen what Brando’s talking about. Four years back Brando was walking to the ticket shack and I was going his way. He was like look in the stupid kid’s backpack he was carrying. I did and there was this grey brick with Brinks, the armoured car company, printed on it. Hand written on it was like $500,000.”

  Brando said, “That’s what the bag was insured for. It probably has less but not much, they pay for the insurance. I’ve had as many as three.”

  Tommy piped up, “So you’ve put your mitts on a million bucks and you’re still here, yah security pussy.” Brando pushed Tommy and they wrestled on the snow for a few minutes till Tommy was holding Brando down. “Give up or I’ll give you a face wash.”

  “Let me up Tommy or you ain’t staying at my place.”

  Tommy let Brando up and brushed him off. “I can stay at your place right?”

  “Sure man, just to rat me out when I take the hill money.” Brando patted Tommy’s back.

  Tommy did the same and said, “You got it bud.”

  ***

  Heavy wet snow was coming down faster than the ploughs could clear it. Brando’s radio cracked, “Security, security... day manager, come in security.”

  “Go for security,” Brando replied.

  “Get yourself down to the bottom of the hill and set up the road block. Make sure only four wheel drives and cars with snow tires are let up the hill.”

  “Ten – four,” Brando paused, “Gerry if you copied that I need a ride down the hill. I’m at the security hut.” Brando stood outside the security hut waiting for Gerry as the snow stuck to and covered his jacket.

  A Subaru Forestry screamed toward the security hut at a speed no normal driver could have safely driven at. It rapidly decelerated and went into an e-brake spin rotating 180 degree so that the passenger door was directly in front of Brando and the car was facing downhill. Brando got in, put on his seat belt without any prompting and hung on to the ‘oh shit’ handle. “Gerry, you’ve had a pretty interesting life, traveled the world rally driving, how’d that happen?”

  “Mate, I was the only person stupid enough and alive to drive,” Gerry’s English accent was apparent.

  “Aren’t there lots of people who want to be drivers?”

  “Sure, the further you go the less there are. I just wanted it more. I never gave up on the dream.” Gerry said this as he worked the steering wheel opposite to the direction the switch back corner was in and ‘drifted’ in a four wheel slide around it. “There were those other assholes in my crew... they fed it.”

  “Ahhh!” the car came within inches of the snow plough’s blade and a wave of heavy snow thudded on the window. Brando recovered, “Ahh, what fed them?”

  “Be calm, I’m not even driving the car to its limit – I was sponsored by Subaru. Being a passenger is always scarier than being a driver. It is the dream.”

  “Do you still race?”

  “No mate, it’s not in my blood anymore. Love to go fast but I have no need to prove anything no more.” The car was traveling at over a hundred miles an hour as Gerry slowed for the final switch back. “You got a dream?”

  “Yeah, I want to live on a tropical beach. Don’t have the money to get there.”

  “I didn’t have the money for the first car I raced. Nicked me one. Took it to the wreckers, tore the guts out and put it in a crappy body... won my first race. I’m sure the judges knew.”

  “I got a way to get the money I need.” Brando told Gerry his plan.

  “Mate I’d never rat you out but loose lips sink ships. You don’t have to worry about that, you have not got it in yah.” Gerry changed topics as they got to the bottom of the hill, “Thanks for being a mate and not telling the wife I was at the bar when she called dispatch... too bad she smelt the booze on me when I got home.”

  ***

  Brando sat at the security desk making up the schedule for his department while outside it sleeted, normal for the end of November. The schedule was not working, too many hours in the d
ay, not enough hours of pay. Ed the day manager came in and said, “Shitty weather, shitty meeting, generally it’s shitty.”

  “What happened at the meeting?”

  “Well, I thought the old management was cheap. The old man’s fucking Santa Clause compared to this asshole.” Ed pulled up a chair, “Got a beer?”

  Brando opened a tool box marked emergency and grabbed two beers while he said, “Yeah, I’ve noticed. It’s kind of hard covering all the shifts with an hour less than we are open for each day.”

  “I’m supposed ta tell you, gate house is now a 6 hour shift ending when the road opens and you start at eight. The road check will be taken care of by the plough truck driver. You now need someone on call from five am till eight am in case the road needs to be blocked.”

  “On call? Do we get any money for it?”

  “No, only the OT if you’re called in... that is if we can’t find a night guy to come in early so we don’t pay out OT.”

  “Fuck.” They both drank.

  “This is the best part. I did not tell you, ok?” Brando nodded. “Get as many hours as you can they are not going to be hiring you on for security during the summer. They got some company to do it that’s cheaper. They’re still keeping security for the winter but they’re going to send you home whenever possible. Like right now. Take off. I’m taking over for you cause I’m on salary.”

  “I’ll keep you company for another one.”

  “That’s nice of ya Brando. I know we hated the old man but he let us get away with shit. The new owner won’t. I don’t think you’ll be able to have the orphan (young people not at

  home for the holiday) Christmas party at the bar like you did in the past. That was great I think... made a lot of happy people. Made my Christmas the first year here.” They both sighed and took a drink. “It’s a new era and it’s not looking good.”

  “Yeah, it might be time for a change.” With a stupid grin Brando said, “When I take the weekend deposit don’t rat me out, ok?”

  “Don’t give me that bullshit Brando.”

  ***

  ‘Was it different this time?’ Brando thought as he made breakfast and sipped on a vodka and OJ while the girl he has been in love with since high school snored drunkenly. “Wake up Debbie. Breakfast. Happy new year!” He blew on a dollar store novelty horn.

  Debbie got herself out of bed and greeted Brando with a hug he tried to turn into a kiss but was left hanging. “Thanks for the breakfast.”

  Brando needed two vodka and OJs before the question was asked, “Does this mean we’re back together?”

  “Brando do we have to do this every year? I love staying over at your place for Christmas – God knows someone would be killed if I had to be at my folks over the holidays. It’s great that you get me free lift tickets and we drink the night away.” She held his hand across the table with both of hers and squeezed it when she said, “And I love you as a friend but last night was two drunks fucking... fun and nothing more.”

  Brando pulled his hand away so he could finish his drink, “If it’s all so good why not give it a try?”

  “Don’t do this.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because, you don’t want anything, you’re at the same job you had six years ago and have no plans to change.” Brando poured another drink, “And there is that.”

  ***

  Brando had rushed to get to the mountain on time but the driver of the car he had hitched a lift with from the bottom of the hill to the top was slowing with every switchback. The higher they got the thicker the fog and the heaver the snow. He got the driver to drop him outside the security hut which was only a dark shape in the dense fog and snow.

  Brando’s thoughts were as thick as the atmosphere outside the hut. Jane the dispatcher had to repeat herself to get his attention. “Brando, they want you at the money room. The truck is on its way. And the road needs to be closed.” Brando put on his snow pants then looked for his work boots. He remembered they were in his car so he put on his snow board boots. “Hey, the boss was saying if any boarding equipment is in the office he’ll toss it out himself. Can you take my board to the locker room when you take yours?”

  “Yeah I’ll take it. I’m taking the money first then I’ll block the road. Tell Gerry I need a ride from him.” Brando pick picked up his board and Jane’s then walked to the money room in mist and snow so thick he had to follow the road.

  He left the boards outside the stairs to the money room and was buzzed in after Tina verified who he was via CCTV. He slowly climbed the stairs and was buzzed in another locked door to a room with a second room in it made of unfinished plywood with a kiosk window. Through the window he could see Tina with stacks of money all around and a counting machine buzzing through thousands of dollars. “You don’t look so hot today.”

  “Still hung over from the weekend... and I had my annual dumping.”

  “That’s crappy. Here sign this... and here and there and that one.” She then passed a kid’s knapsack through the kiosk window followed by four gray bags of money. “Take that to the ticket office... not Mexico.”

  “Sure.” He said out loud while he thought, ‘Mexico it is.’ He picked up the board at the bottom of the stairs and started following the road to the ticket office. A horn honked so close behind him he dropped the boards and jumped up onto a snow bank.

  “Brando, your chariot arrives.” Gerry’s voice was heard from in the car as he opened the passenger side door.

  “Go put a sign up down there or something. I’ve got other things to do.” Brando said picking up the boards.

  Gerry focused on the snow boards and the bulging knapsack. “Sure mate, I hear ya.” Gerry slammed the passenger side door closed and sped down the mountain.

  This was it. Brando knew he could not go back. He dropped Jane’s board and his radio in a snow bank then crossed the road. He saw no one as he jogged the couple hundred meters to the lift. He put on his toque, goggles, and zipped up his coat before snapping his foot into the snowboard’s binding. He tried not to look at the chair lift attendant.

  Tommy said, “That you Brando?”

  Brando looked at him, “Who?”

  Tommy saw the kid’s knapsack on Brando’s back, “Sorry, thought you were someone else.” Tommy gestured for Brando to sit as the chair lift came around and picked him up.

  Brando pulled the safety bar down on the chair lift and lent on it as he began to hyperventilate. Going back was an option before he got on the lift. Now there was only one option. Half way up the lift, he took a deep breath, held it, and thought of all the people who would now say, ‘That Brando guy did it. Took off with the mountain’s money and is living the good life on a tropical beach.’ The thought of sending an email to Debbie from some beach in the tropics with a picture of his bar in the background spurred him on. Everyone loves an outlaw.

  Brando ignored the out of bound signs andpushed himself past them. The first few hundred yards down the backside of the mountain were easy even in the flat grey soup of fog and snow. He had boarded down this run hundreds of times. He continued past the spot where many years ago Mark and Jen had told him not to go past. After a hundred yards of open terrain giant hemlock trees began to dot the hill getting thicker as he descended. The adrenaline pumping in his veins kept him moving. He was sure someone was after him even though less than a half hour had gone by since he left the money room. Still he pressed himself to the limit.

  A turn broke loose a section of snow starting a miniature avalanche that quickly over took Brando driving him head first into a tree. He awoke some time later, trapped in a tree well with a terrible headache, a pain in his chest that became sharp when he coughed, and a pain so great in his shoulder that if he moved it too much he blacked out. With his other arm he started to dig himself out but the snow was like concrete.

  ***

  No one had questioned where Brando was until the Brinks armoured car called to say it was five minutes away. That call was
made about thirty minutes after Brando left the money room. Frantic calls went out on the radio for Brando and the three managers on the hill started looking for him. Five minutes later the accounting manager made the final radio call looking for Brando. The accounting manager wanted to know what radio Brando had signed out. No more talk of Brando was heard over the radio. The police were called.

  Jane stared at her radio wanting to hear some gossip about what was going on. She knew Brando was missing with the mountain’s money but at the same time she could not believe it. Outside the security hut the muffled voices of the day manager Ed and a policy officer were heard going over something serious. Boots stomped at the front door, Ed and the Officer stepped in. “Jane, Constable Le Bourne has a few questions for you.”

  “You last spoke to the security supervisor Brando when?”

  “About an hour ago, the actual times are written in my log book. I told him he needed to pick up the money for Brinks at the money room and close the road. Did something happen?”

  “I will need the log book.” Constable Le Bourne put forward a hand to take it. “Did Brando say or do anything strange?”

  “No, but he did take my snow board with him. Ed’s been on us for having them in here so I got him to take mine.”

  Constable Le Bourne asked, “Did he take anything else?”

  “No, just my snow board, has he stolen that too?”

  “No but it is evidence. Thank you for the log.” Constable Le Bourne took the log.

  Ed said, “Jane, get Gerry to come up here.”

  ***

  Constable Le Bourne was hanging on to the back of the snowmobile as Mark the head ski patroller yelled back to him, “On days like today we are always on the lookout for track into the backcountry but we have not seen any today. If Brando did try to go up the mountain one of the lifties would have seen him.” The snow mobile stopped meters from the lift. Mark yelled to Tommy, “The officer needs to talk with you.” Mark took Tommy’s spot at the lift.

  Tommy wondered if he was in trouble. He could remember most of New Years. “What do you need officer?”

  “Did you see the security supervisor Brando at all today?”

  Tommy smiled, “No, I’ve been up here since seven, haven’t seen him.”