by Rai Aren
After persistent pressure from his father, he’d finally enrolled in a local college and completed a business diploma. Somehow, he managed to get good enough grades to graduate, though it was close. He'd probably ended up at the bottom of his class, but he didn’t want to know.
The only bright spots in his post-secondary experience were the archaeology and anthropology classes he’d taken for his options. There, he felt engaged and energized. It opened up his curiosity about the world and got his imagination firing along. But they were too few and far between. The business classes for his major were the dominant force in his academic experience. It was all he could do to pull off passing grades in those classes, though he’d excelled in his options. This was another source of disappointment for his father, who’d repeatedly reminded Rick of his own stellar academic performance at a top university. It was a badge of honor that his father wore proudly. That and being a business owner. The respect and prestige it afforded him in the community and amongst his peers was something he regularly told Rick could be his one day, if only he would focus his efforts, apply himself properly, and work hard.
But hard work and dedication to something, at what felt like the cost of his soul, left a deficit that was palpable and too painful to bear for Rick. Try as he might, Rick could not twist himself into enough of a pretzel to please his father.
The whole academic experience had slowly crushed Rick’s spirits. Then, his time working in his father’s company had squashed them even more. He’d never felt more hollow, more false, more inauthentic in his life. He’d tried to hide it for a long time, tried faking interest and enthusiasm as he got assigned to project after project. There were times when he’d wake up in a panic at night, filled with dread for the workday ahead. Meetings, business jargon, “deliverables”, spreadsheets, soul-draining, anxiety-producing performance reviews, and a life amongst grey cubicles. It all felt like a living death to someone geared to the outdoors, adventure, and scouring ancient ruins—someone who dreamt endlessly of finding lost treasure and getting their name written into the history books.
Eventually, Rick had left the business world behind for good, which was a bitter disappointment for his father. In spite of that and in defiance of his father’s wishes, Rick swore to never put himself back in a position where he was that deeply unhappy and ill-suited. He turned to going on amateur expeditions with some friends, which was great fun for a time, until one by one they all chose to get regular jobs, get married and start families.
Then, his father died. Edward Braeden had been a deeply unhappy man, despite the strong, in-control façade he put on. That unhappiness manifested itself in a number of ways. He kept up his workaholic ways, got divorced, the estrangement from Rick grew, and along the way Edward developed an unfortunate smoking and drinking habit as a way to cope with the pain he’d never found a way to face. The combination of those two habits took his life in his mid-sixties. A life cut short. He and Rick had never managed to reconcile their differences. That left Rick wrestling with a deep sorrow and longing that he could never fix and never escape.
Rick had been devastated. He’d lost his only remaining parent. Though they’d been estranged for years, it didn’t stop the sense of loneliness and isolation he now felt in the world. It was as though he was now going through life untethered. A small boat that had lost its last connection to its mothership, now lost, alone, and adrift in rough, dark seas, that threatened to mercilessly tear his small craft apart. He felt very alone. The world felt different to him now, emptier.
So, Rick had carried on searching for lost treasures. Traipsing through some of the world’s remotest places, seeking what was lost, seemed fitting for him somehow. He just needed to prove himself once and for all—prove his worth, prove he wasn’t wrong to want that life, and that he could make a difference in the world in some way. Then, maybe he could finally find a way to heal and become whole again...
* * *
Rick got up and poured himself another cup of coffee. He didn’t want to think about the past any more right now. He wanted to look forward. He re-read the article about the suspicious activity related to the Tayos Caves system. Things were converging. He could feel it.
“I need to have a little chat with Sofia Torres,” he said aloud. He took a sip of coffee. He intended to seek her out right away.
CHAPTER 3
Rick had tried to contact the newspaper to get in touch with the reporter, but it seemed that they were closed on weekends. He was disappointed. Patience wasn’t always his strong suit. He had no choice. He’d have to wait until Monday morning to try and get hold of her.
It was late. Rick was heading back to his apartment after spending some time in a local watering hole. It was becoming an all-too-frequent habit of his, but he found it difficult to spend too much time alone. The company of strangers had a comforting effect on him. For a time, he felt a little less lost, a little less lonely. Like he had a place to go in the world. Only there, no one really knew his name.
The bar was only a few blocks from his apartment. He typically avoided the more popular, crowded places. This one was small and dingy, a real hole in the wall, but that suited Rick just fine. He fit in well in a place like that. No one judged him, no one expected him to be anything other than what he was. Another anonymous stranger in a place that didn’t care who you were.
So far, he was keeping his drinking under control. He knew it could get the better of him if he let it. He’d seen the consequences of letting it become too much of a habit. He allowed himself two whiskeys. Then, he switched to the local cola. Safer that way. He didn’t need to flush himself down the drain all at once.
The streets around the bar had the usual nighttime crowd. A few people, alone like him, wandering, others boisterous and loud in groups. There were always comings and goings. People with places to go and things to do.
As he walked on, the activity died down. Voices were more distant. He was walking past an alley when something caught his attention. He heard grunting. At first, he figured it might be a clandestine romantic encounter, but then the tone shifted to something more sinister. The hairs stood up on the back of his neck. Someone cried out. It was dark, he couldn’t see much, but now he could tell it was a struggle.
Keep walking, he told himself. Don’t get involved. He had no idea what was going on.
He heard a yelp, then feet scurrying.
He stopped. “Hey!” Rick called out. “What’s going on?” He couldn’t help but do something. He was probably going to get himself in trouble. But when had that ever stopped him?
“Help me!” a young man’s voice called out in a desperate tone.
He heard a thud and a shriek. Then the sound of someone running his way.
“Get him!” a man’s voice shouted in Spanish.
Suddenly, the young man raced past him, his face bloodied. He looked terrified and desperate.
Rick could hear the others, at least two, giving chase. He looked down at the ground and noticed a broken 2x4 next to the building in the alley. Just a piece of garbage that hadn’t quite made it to the bin. He picked up the wood, ducked and gave a wallop as the first man reached the street. He got him square in the face. The man fell in a heap with a grunt. His cohort, running close behind, tripped over him, going ass over tea-kettle.
Rick gave the back of his head a good thwack.
Both were down for the count.
He looked around, but he couldn’t see the young man.
He sighed. “I sure hope I did the right thing.” He had no idea what was going on between these three, but the other guy was younger, smaller, outnumbered and had obviously taken a beating. That just didn’t sit right with him.
He turned to leave, but then to his great surprise, the young man reappeared.
“Hey, are you ok?” Rick asked, startled.
“You knocked them out?” He spoke in a Spanish accent.
“Yeah, I did,” Rick replied. “Seemed like the thing to do at the ti
me. I never liked bullies.”
The young man’s eyes were wide with fear, but also with something else. Determination. He bent down and started rifling through their pockets.
“What the hell are you doing?” Rick asked.
“They stole something from me. I need to get it back.” He found what he was looking for in one of their back pockets. It was a folded piece of paper. The young man was about to put it in his own pocket, when one of the men grunted, coming to, and reached for his arm.
The younger man gasped, falling backwards.
Without thinking, Rick gave the man another solid whack on the head with the 2x4.
He slumped down once again.
The young man pushed himself up and once again rifled through the men’s pockets.
“Are you crazy?” Rick said incredulously. “You’re taking a helluva risk. Let’s get out of here before they come to again. They’re not gonna be too happy with us.”
“I have to. It may be muy importante.”
“More important than your life?”
He ignored Rick. Finally, he fished out what looked to be an old, tarnished compass. “Ahh, got it.” He stood up, pocketed the compass, but then swayed, unsteady on his feet.
Rick caught him. “You’re hurt.”
Rick saw his face more clearly now. He was young, maybe twenty or so. His right eye was swollen, his cheek cut and bleeding.
“I’ll get you to a hospital,” Rick said, as he steadied him with one arm around his waist. He held onto the 2x4, just in case.
The young man shook his head. “No, I need to get home to my sister. Es urgente.” He tried to push Rick away, but he stumbled.
Rick caught him again. “Dude, like it or not, you need my help.” He looked over his shoulder at the two men slumped over. “And we need to get away from here fast, before these two goons wake up and before someone else sees us and starts asking questions.”
The young man tried to struggle, but the fight he’d just been in had taken a toll on him.
Rick thought for a moment. In for a penny, in for a pound?
“Come on, I live not far from here. I’ll get your wound cleaned up and you can rest for a bit. Then, we can call your sister to come get you, ok?”
The young man was silent, considering his options.
“Look, we don’t have time to debate this. We’re going.”
He shifted the man’s weight so that he had a solid grip around his waist.
“Lean into me, I’ve got you.”
The young man nodded and complied.
“Bueno.” He gave him a friendly grin. “I’m Rick, by the way.”
“Luis,” he replied.
“Good to meet you, Luis. Let’s try to turn this crappy evening around, ok?”
Luis gave him a half-smile.
They hustled away as fast as they could. Luis’ jeans were torn and dirty and he was limping slightly.
Rick didn’t know why exactly, but he felt protective of him. Maybe because in the past he’d been the one outnumbered and taking a beating. He didn’t like that experience. Not one bit. And he really didn’t like seeing someone else at the receiving end of it, either.
Once at his apartment, Rick got Luis a glass of water, then gathered what first aid items he could find and set about cleaning his wound.
The young man had a bit of a pudgy build and big, soulful brown eyes. He had thick, dark hair, and looked like he hadn’t had a haircut in quite some time.
“Why were those guys after you?” Rick asked.
Luis looked at him, but then looked away, shaking his head.
“Ok,” Rick replied, “well then, do you think they’ll come back to try and find you again?”
The startled look on Luis’ face told Rick that he hadn’t thought that far ahead.
“Right, then. Do you think they know where you live?”
Luis pursed his lips. “Posiblemente.” He took a long sip of water.
“Look, I’m willing to help, you obviously need it. What did they want with you?”
Luis just stared into his water glass.
Rick didn’t press him. It was obvious he didn’t want to talk. He didn’t blame him. Rick was a complete stranger to him.
Luis had grown quiet, contemplative. Finally, he spoke up, “I need to call my sister.”
Rick nodded and gave him his address and the general directions to his apartment.
Luis pulled out his cell phone and made the call. He spoke quickly in Spanish, his tone urgent. He hung up.
“She will come and get me.”
Rick nodded. “And then what?”
Luis shrugged his shoulders. “I need to talk to her. She will know what to do.”
CHAPTER 4
Rick’s apartment buzzer went off less than half an hour later.
“That must be my sister,” Luis said, jumping up out of his chair.
Rick nodded and went to answer it. “Who is it?”
“My name is Sofia,” a woman’s voice answered, sounding tense. “I’m looking for Luis.”
“Come on up,” he replied, buzzing her in.
Moments later, there was an urgent knock at the door.
Rick opened the door.
Before he could introduce himself, she pushed right past him, spotting her brother.
She dropped her large bag on the floor. Speaking in Spanish, she said, “Luis, oh, my god, are you all right?”
He said yes, and she gave him a big hug, not letting go for a couple of minutes.
They spoke in hushed tones.
Rick moved to his kitchen to give them some privacy.
He stole a couple of glances. Sofia wore a dark brown jacket and jeans. She was a beautiful woman with a lovely Spanish accent. She was about 5’6” tall, about the same height as her brother, and had long, thick, dark wavy hair and big brown eyes. She had a more athletic build than her brother. She was older than Luis by a handful of years. Rick pegged her at maybe mid-twenties. He could tell at once how protective she was over her younger brother.
Finally, they came over to join Rick.
“Gracias,” she said, with a nod of her head. “I am grateful for what you did tonight for my brother.”
“I’m just glad I was there to help,” he replied. “We haven’t been properly introduced. I’m Rick.” He held out his hand.
She hesitated, but then took his hand, shaking it briefly. “Sofia.”
“Sofia,” he said with a warm smile, “a pleasure to meet you. Just wish it had been under better circumstances.”
She nodded, looking tense. She noted he was tall, with a rugged handsomeness about him. His brown hair was wavy and a bit mussed up, kind of like what she could see of his apartment. He seemed friendly, but she’d learned the hard way that people weren’t always what they seemed.
“May I offer you a drink?” Rick asked. “Would you like to sit down?”
Luis was about to say yes, when his sister shook her head. “We should go. We’ve bothered you enough tonight.” She grabbed her bag, slung it over her shoulder, and put her arm around Luis.
“Look,” Rick said, “it’s no bother. He’s just had a rough go, and from the little he told me, trouble might come back looking for him.”
Sofia didn’t reply. She glanced at Luis.
“Your brother said the men who attacked him might know where he lives.”
“Where we live,” Luis corrected him.
Rick frowned. “Then all the more reason to just hit pause for a moment.” He held out his hands. “Why don’t we just take a little time and figure out some safe next steps, ok? No one knows he’s here. You’re safe for the moment.”
Luis nudged her. “Buena idea.”
She thought about what Rick said, but still didn’t reply.
“I’m tired and sore,” Luis pressed her. “Let’s just rest here for a bit. I think we can trust him. He’s helped me a lot already.”
She sized Rick up.
Rick could tell she was
not one to trust easily. He didn’t blame her, especially under the circumstances.
“Por favor?” Luis asked.
She sighed. “Bien.”
Luis looked relieved.
“But we won’t stay long,” she said to Rick, with a wary look in her eyes.
“Of course,” he replied. He motioned them into his living room. “As you can see, it’s a small place, but please have a seat and make yourselves at home.”
Sofia held onto Luis and led him over to the sofa. They sat down next to each other. She set her bag on the floor next to her.
“Excelente,” Rick said, with a wide grin. “I’m going to get us some snacks and drinks. Then we can go over things, ok?”
Luis nodded his head eagerly as his adrenaline-fueled hunger kicked in.
Rick went to the kitchen to heat up some leftovers.
He came back and handed them each a Coke.
“Gracias,” Luis said.
Sofia nodded.
“De nada,” Rick replied, winking at Luis. “I’ll be right back.”
They took some sips and watched their host work, whispering to each other in Spanish.
A few minutes later, Rick brought out a plate of food. He pushed some magazines and newspapers aside and set it down on the coffee table, along with some plates, cutlery and paper napkins.
“Help yourselves,” he said, sitting down in an armchair across from them.
“Llapingachos?” Luis said, when he saw the fried, cheese-infused potato patties. “We love these. They’re Sofia’s favorite.”
Sofia tried to hide her smile.
They all tucked into the food.
“Did you make these?” Luis asked, impressed by how good they tasted.
Rick laughed. “I wish. No, I’m afraid I’m not a very good cook. I pretty much depend on the local restaurants around here.”
“Well, they’re muy delicioso,” Luis said.
