by Carol Grace
An old man came around the corner of the house more astonished to see them than they were to see him. Pedro tipped his hat. Catherine didn’t know if they were acquainted or not, but Pedro was able to borrow three burros and buy more food for the journey. They filled their saddlebags and tied their sleeping bags onto the burros. Catherine rubbed her hands against her pants and looked inquiringly at Josh.
His eyes were on the distant mountains. “Are you sure you’re up to this? It must be a long walk. With Pedro on a burro we’ll need the other two to carry the equipment.”
She laced up her boots. “I wouldn’t miss it for anything.” It was true. She was willing to go farther than the Tochabamba Mines to share Josh’s dream.
Pedro showed no emotion as he mounted his burro and led the way down the trail. Josh wished he could control his emotions, as well. He was afraid there would be nothing at the end of the trail. But he wanted desperately to find something, anything. He tried to empty his mind and enjoy the walk through the long valley, knowing there would be a steep climb ahead.
The sun shone down, warming his head and shoulders, easing the tension. Ahead of him he heard the clip-clop of the burros and he watched Catherine, admiring her hips swaying slightly in her loose-fitting pants. She wore a soft canvas hat that protected her head from the sun. She’d braided her hair that morning while he’d drunk his coffee, but soft tendrils had escaped and curled at the nape of her neck.
He imagined how soft her hair would feel wrapped around his fingers. He knew how her skin would taste if he kissed the back of her neck, like sage and sunshine, like all outdoors. He caught up with her where the trail widened and he fell into step.
“Are you getting tired?” he asked.
She shook her head. Tiny flecks of hazel lightened her eyes. “This is the best trip I’ve ever had. I feel as if we’ve come to another world. Everything’s different here, the sun, the earth, everything.” She gazed off at the wide alkali flats and the eroded mountains streaked with red in the distance, then turned back to him. “Even us,” she said softly. “We’re different, too.”
He stopped and drew her to him, running his hand up her neck to caress the soft curls that escaped from her braid. “You’re the same,” he protested, “still beautiful, still desirable. I wouldn’t be here without you. I wouldn’t want to be here without you. I don’t want to be anywhere without you,” he said with a quick kiss before they continued along the trail.
This time he took the lead. Catherine ran her finger across her lips, feeling the warmth of his kiss still lingering. Later they stopped for lunch at the entrance to a steep canyon. Above them were names carved in the stone wall. Josh read the names and the dates, but his father’s name wasn’t there.
Catherine removed her boots slowly and stretched out her legs. Josh sat opposite her and took her feet into his lap. Starting a massage at her heel and working his way under the arch, he made her bones turn to liquid. She arched her back and let her head fell back.
“That feels so good,” she moaned softly. “Where did you learn to do that?”
“I make it up as I go along,” he confessed, his fingers unleashing a fire that would be out of control if she didn’t stop it. Reluctantly she pulled away.
“I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to get up again,” she said in a shaky voice.
But when Pedro cooked an omelet on the stove, she managed to get to her feet and take her plate. She and Josh ate next to each other with their backs against the wall, feeling the sun-warmed stone through their shirts.
Pedro stood and scanned the canyon while Josh followed his eyes. Finally he spoke. “He says we’ll be there by tonight,” Catherine said, standing and tying her jacket around her waist. Her eyes glowed, and Josh worried that she was counting on finding silver. He could handle his own disappointment, but not hers, too.
Pedro tied the three burros together with a rope and they began to climb. On every slope they saw telltale signs of old workings, piles of stones marking a strike or a rusted tobacco tin. Narrow trails led off to remote areas, to God knew where.
Pedro stopped for a long moment and looked around. Josh’s heart sank. It was clear to him they were lost. It was too late to go back. They’d have to find a place to stay along the trail and go back tomorrow. But Pedro kept going. And they followed. Followed him down a salt-encrusted draw and turned around. They watched him look up at the sky, either to get his bearings or to ask God for help. They weren’t sure which. Josh’s spirits dropped and his feet felt heavy.
He noticed that even Catherine’s step had lost its spring. She wiped the perspiration off her brow with the sleeve of her shirt. “Does he know where he’s going?” Josh asked from behind her.
“It’s been forty years,” she explained in a tired voice. “Things change. Landslides. Earthquakes.” She reached for his hand. “Don’t worry. If he says we’ll be there tonight, we’ll be there.”
At dusk they were crisscrossing the side of a barren mountain, the burros’ hooves sending loose stones down hundreds of feet. Catherine stopped and clung to a boulder. She kept her eyes fastened on Pedro. Her feet were numb, her breath short and her hands clammy. She couldn’t move.
Josh came up behind her. “Are you all right?” he asked anxiously.
She didn’t turn around. “As long as I don’t look down.” Her voice was taut with tension.
Carefully he stepped in front of her, took her hand and pulled her forward across the loose stones. “Just keep your eyes on me and don’t let go. This is a hell of a place for a person with vertigo.”
Her eyes latched onto his and didn’t let go. The intensity of his gaze gave her the strength to follow him. She didn’t allow herself to think of the canyon below. She thought of him, only of him and put herself, quite literally, into his hands. His grip was warm and strong, and be pulled her steadily as the switchbacks took them higher and higher.
Suddenly Pedro and the burros disappeared over the top of a ledge, and the only sound was the wind whistling through the canyon. Despite his hold on her hands, Catherine’s step faltered and she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment.
“Look at me,” he ordered, and she obeyed. His blue eyes reflected the sky above, and in his gaze she found the courage to go on. “It’s only a few more feet. Pedro’s already there,” he assured her.
At the top she fell forward into his arms and he held her tightly. His shirt was cool and dry against her cheek. She was embarrassed by her vertigo, but he patted her on the back as if she’d just climbed Everest. She wound her arms around his neck and wished she could stay there forever. Forever. That word again.
She dropped her arms and slowly looked around. They were standing in an amphitheater ringed by rocky and barren mountains in air so clear that the Cordera Range, more than two hundred miles away, was a blue-purple mass. In between lay green fields and willows. To the west was the sun setting on the Esquinas River.
She was so intent on the view that she almost missed the rubble at their feet. Huge stones and rocks lay in heaps as if a giant had tossed them about. Pedro was right. The God of Thunder had surely been there.
“Where’s Pedro?” she asked, and they looked around. Suddenly he appeared from an opening in the side of the mountain, his small body dwarfed by the rock that had blocked him from sight. A smear of mud covered his forehead.
“The shaft has opened again,” he said flatly, but his eyes betrayed his emotion. “Somewhere inside are the bodies of the miners, my friends.” He shook his head and tears filled his eyes.
Josh put his hand on the old man’s shoulder, able to understand his sense of loss and realizing what the words meant. “We won’t stay long,” he promised. “Just long enough to take samples and bring them home.”
From a saddlebag Josh dug out his lantern. He knelt on the ground and carefully filled it with gas, pumped it up and lit the mantle. In the dusk it cast a dim light on the expectant faces of Catherine and Pedro. He wanted to tell them now what he kne
w in his heart. There was no silver there. There were only lost dreams and lives. Failure and disappointment. But he couldn’t say it. They’d have to see for themselves.
“Let’s go,” he said, walking to the entrance.
“Now?” Catherine looked around at the vast emptiness, the cold rocks and the darkening sky. Pedro shook his head and backed away. Josh didn’t see him.
He was only dimly aware of the apprehension in Catherine’s voice. His heart was pounding, his pulse racing. Was this the feeling that drove men to leave their families and sail for California in 1849? Was this what made his father leave his family to travel the four corners of the globe? Was this what they called gold fever?
“Now,” he said, and she followed him to the opening of the tunnel. Suddenly it was dark and cold. She shivered and he grabbed her hand. The lantern cast its beam down a narrow tunnel, caked with black mud. The clammy walls seemed to close in on them, and the mud oozed at their feet.
“If the mine caved in once, couldn’t it happen again?” she asked, tightening her grip on his hand. A spider scuttled across the toe of her boot while she watched in fascinated horror. When it disappeared from view, she bent down to pick up a chunk of gray rock with a streak of red running through it.
“Do you want to wait outside?” he asked.
“No,” she assured him, slipping the rock into her pocket. “I’ve already found something. Maybe it’s valuable. Who knows?”
“The avalanche seems to have been much farther back.” He shone the lantern on the slats of wood that braced the walls and the ceiling. “I think we’re safe here.” He scraped a blob of mud from the wall and held it in his hand.
“What is it?” she asked, her pulse quickening.
“Probably just mud, but we’ll take it and have it analyzed.”
“It doesn’t look like silver.”
“Silver weathers and oxidizes. It’s hard to identify by sight.” In his mind he saw the gleam and felt the smooth surface of the precious metal, and he knew deep down there wasn’t any in this mud. “Tomorrow we’ll go farther, as far as we can. If it’s there, we’ll find it. But silver is tricky. Sometimes it’s found with lead or zinc.”
Surprised by his knowledge of mining, she followed him out into the fresh night air. Inhaling deeply, she asked, “How do you know all this? From your father?’’
He shook his head. “I’ve been doing some reading.”
The sight of Pedro roasting a chicken over the open fire made her realize how hungry and tired she was. Her knees buckled under her, and Josh caught her under the arms.
“Whoa,” he said, lowering her gently next to the fire. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she told him, holding her hands out to warm them by the hot coals. He knelt behind her and massaged the tired muscles in her neck until her head fell forward and a sigh escaped her lips. “Still making it up as you go along?” she murmured.
Instead of answering, he kissed the back of her neck while his hands continued to work their magic on her shoulders. If there was heaven on earth, it would feel like this, she thought Gradually his palms moved to the small of her back, and just when she thought she couldn’t stand another moment of this exquisite pleasure, Pedro coughed loudly to get their attention. Dinner was ready.
They ate around the fire, tearing the chicken off the bones with their fingers. When they finished, Pedro placed his bedroll as far from the entrance to the mine as possible, while Catherine and Josh put theirs next to the fire.
She pulled her sleeping bag up to her chin, a thousand questions on her mind. She watched the firelight play on Josh’s face, turning his eyes into fathomless holes, his jaw to chiseled rock.
“What if there isn’t any silver?” she asked at last. “What will you do?”
“Walk away from it,” he said. “What else can I do?” He lay back and looked at the sky. “I didn’t come for the silver, not really. It would just be a bonus.” He didn’t say what he had come for, but she knew. He had come to find himself. To find the dreamer within himself and make room for that part of himself in his life. If he couldn’t do that, there wouldn’t be room for her, either.
If Josh had come to find himself, what had she come to find? Had she come to find out what kind of a man he was? If so, the trip was a success. He was strong, but not macho. He was tender, but not weak. He could make her laugh and make her cry, too. He could make her want him in a way that made her feel worse than she’d ever felt before. But he could make her feel happier than she ever thought possible. What if it doesn’t work out? she asked herself. And she knew the answer. Walk away from it, she told herself. What else could she do?
She brought her arm out of her sleeping bag and reached for Josh. He rolled over and faced her. Taking her hand in his, he pulled her close to him and put his arms around her sleeping bag. She sighed, buried her head on his shoulder and felt the warmth of his body through the thick padding of her sleeping bag until she fell asleep.
The air was cool in the morning. They stood around the fire in their down vests, drinking coffee, their eyes drawn involuntarily to the entrance to the mine. Josh set his cup down and rubbed his hands together. He studied Catherine’s face, noticing the lines etched between her eyebrows. Cupping her chin in his hand, he smiled reassuringly.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I don’t need the silver. Neither does Pedro. Whatever happens our lives will go on.”
She nodded automatically, but he didn’t think he’d convinced her. Maybe he hadn’t convinced himself yet. It was true he didn’t need the silver. But he needed something else. What it was he didn’t know. He wouldn’t know until he found it.
“Are you ready?” he asked, a shovel in one hand, the lantern in the other, and a pouch attached to his belt for samples.
Catherine grabbed the pickax, and with Pedro watching from a safe distance, they entered the long tunnel to the mine again. She shone her flashlight on the rocks, and a scorpion crawled out and ran from them. She clamped her lips together to keep from screaming. Particles from the ceiling showered them as they walked. Catherine shook her head and captured some in her hand.
When she spoke, her voice was a whisper. “Silver dust?”
Dubiously he looked at her palm. “Put it in the bag,” he instructed. When they reached the end of the tunnel, Josh leaned against the loose dirt wall. Looking down where his lantern cast its light, he saw an old rusty hand drill and next to it two pole picks.
He set his lantern down and knelt in the dirt. Bracing his hand on the ground, he felt something solid under the dirt. “Catherine, over here. Shine your light this way.” He dug into the soft dirt with his fingers. His heart pounded with excitement. Was this what treasure hunting was all about, this feeling that the world had stopped spinning and everyone was holding their breath waiting... ? After digging for a moment, he held up a soft, worn leather case in the palm of his hand.
Catherine shone her light on it. “What is it?” she asked in a hushed voice.
He held the case up and pressed his fingers over the letters. When he tilted the case, a heavy object slid into his hand. “My father’s magnifying glass,” he said in a hollow voice.
He handed it to her and dug deeper into the soil before he found a compass, its cover cracked, its needle swinging wildly from north to south. “And his compass.” He knelt for so long studying it that the lantern began to dim.
“Josh.” Catherine’s voice sounded worried. “Let’s take the things out and get some air.”
He stood stiffly and put the objects safely in his pocket. With the picks and the drill under their arms, they made their way back to the entrance. Squinting in the bright sunlight, Josh felt as dazed and shaken as if he’d been caught in the avalanche of forty years ago. When his eyes grew accustomed to the light, he sat on a rock and took the magnifying glass out of his pocket.
Pedro approached cautiously, relieved to see than again. Josh held out the magnifying glass for him to see.
&n
bsp; “My father’s,” he said in Spanish, and Pedro’s eyes grew round in his narrow face.
“El padrón,” he said. “Your father was the padrón.” Then he turned and went back to the mine, keeping watch for his old friends once more.
Catherine traced the initials JB on the leather.
“James Bentley,” Josh said. “I knew he’d lost it. He had others, but they weren’t the same. When he lost these things, he lost the silver mine, too. He thought there would be other mines, other ways to make a fortune, but you know what happened. He died broke.” He turned it over in his hand. “Well, we found the glass, but not the silver.” Disappointment settled over him like a dark cloud.
Catherine knelt at his side. She leaned forward, her dark eyes intense. “You said you didn’t need the silver. You said it didn’t matter.”
“It doesn’t matter, not to me. But it mattered to him. I wanted to find it for him. So he could be a success. At last.” Josh stuffed the magnifying glass back into his pocket and stared across to the mountains beyond the valley without seeing them. “I didn’t realize how much I wanted it.” Bitterness, hurt and disappointment filled his throat and choked off his words. Catherine rose and stood at his side.
“Can you believe my father spent his life thinking about this place?” he asked her, looking around at the barren outcroppings. “What a waste.” He shook his head. “That’s the part that gets me. That a man could waste his life looking for lost treasure.”
Catherine’s heart ached, for Josh, for his father and for herself. For Josh, finding the treasure would have meant finding himself. For herself it would have meant finding a man who allowed himself to have both dreams and goals. Her eyes filled with tears.
“There are worse things,” she said with a catch in her throat. The sun was straight overhead, but she shivered.
