by Zoey Kane
“You two are nuts! But beau-tee-ful. Don’t do it again. I’ll have to kick you off the ranch.” They knew he wasn’t kidding.
“Oh,” Zo remembered, “Mackey, I can pay you now for everything. Here is some cash we got from Western Union.” Zo gently unzipped a pocket in her new purse, her wrists feeling slightly better now. “This should pay up our tab, and there’s a little extra to thank you for your generosity.” She winked as she handed it over, thinking of their donated clothing.
Mackey accepted it, raising his eyebrows and scratching his salt-and-pepper beard. “Never mind, you two can dive off Devil’s Tooth if you like. Stay as long as you want. This is real… right?” he kidded.
“As real as can be,” she said.
“All right, then…” He didn’t quite look like he believed his eyes, still. “That’s mighty nice o’ you. Mighty nice.” Slowly, he stuffed the money deeply into the bib of his overalls, as if his thoughts were floating away to something else.
Mackey’s attention suddenly switched. “Brooks!” His voice was stern. “I told you to stand guard. Don’t you remember? You know,” he said with a riveting stare, “we’re trying to make sure no coyotes come in to disturb what ain’t theirs.”
“Sorry, Macks.”
“Yeah, well, yer boots are beginnin’ to run over at the heels.” He started back toward the bar, walking a little stiffly.
“Yes, sir!” Brooks acknowledged, adding to his friends, “he sure has been in a bad mood lately.”
“Maybe he needs knee replacement surgery,” Zo said while dipping another battered onion.
“Maybe… he needs a lacy hanky for his back pocket,” added Claire.
“Maybe he needs… a tooth extraction from Dennis Dances-with-Scary-Ghosts, the dentist.”
“I need,” said Claire with a grimace of pain, “another Tylenol.”
“On my way.” Brooks scooted out his chair in a scuff and headed out to the barn.
“Oh, no,” Claire said quietly to her mom. “Marlene is off restriction and headed this way.”
Sure enough, there she was, with Richard in tow, looking all gaunt and haggard again. Claire had to admit just laying eyes on the woman brought waves of nausea. She stepped onto the porch with a heavy stomp in an effort to terrorize the duo.
“Sup,” greeted Zo, without really resting her eyes on she who must be noticed.
“I can’t stand you,” Marlene growled.
This time, Zo turned and stared at her. “Just exactly what IS your problem with me? Is there any real reason for your bizarre temperament?”
“Well, you think you’re big time and you’re not. Your grammar is bad. You don’t dress good. You think you’re funny and all you are is silly. You hang out with your daughter—two grown women who refuse to have their own separate rooms? You got boyfriends, I noticed, but why aren’t you sleeping with them?”
“What?” Claire sat straighter. “Is that what you do?… Sleep around on Richard?”
Richard’s back was turned and his hands were thrust deep in his back pockets while looking off at a corner of the porch.
“Oh, you two are such goody-goody exaggerators. Everything about you is artificial and naive. Your idea of a good time is falling off a mountain. Yes, I heard about that. As if that could actually happen! Who’s going to believe that? Not anyone with an ounce of intelligence or who knows anything about reality. You are just trying to get attention. You should really give up going out in public altogether. Go back to where you came from.”
“Well, Claire, what do you think about Marlene’s evaluation of us?” Zo took some time before responding.
“I think…”
“Wait.” Richard stepped forward suddenly and turned to his wife. “Let me tell you what I think, my dear.”
Marlene put a hand on her hip, and leaned back.
“For such a critic of art as you, even having a booth of your own work here to sell, you are monochromatic when it comes to other people. You squeeze the fun out of everybody else’s good time. You are soooo busy pushing your own brand of haughty prejudice, and hacking people down, that you miss the total rainbow—the fuller, better picture.” He put a finger up. “You, my dear, are a crushing bore. I love you, but get over yourself! Tomorrow, I am having breakfast without you. Why? Because I don’t want to hear about my new friends’ perceived faults. Your scope on life is as narrow-minded as a beady-eyed buzzard. I’d have to say you dot all the ‘i’s, then curse the whole purpose of a good story.” Richard stepped down off the porch and walked toward the vendors’ booths, both hands still in his pockets and whistling.
“I don’t care what he says,” Marlene said, turning back to them. “You are beggars, parasites, without a nickel to your name, and you leech off other people’s good manners and kindness, by taking advantage of them.”
“Thank you, Marlene. Anything else?” asked Zo.
“Oh, I’m sure there is. I’ll let you know when I think of it.” She swung open the door and entered the foyer with the cacophony of the bell following her. “Oh, yeah!” She turned back around and cracked the door open. “Take a creative writing course!” The door slammed again, and the bell rang in abuse.
“Huh?” Zo and Claire looked at each other, utterly puzzled.
“Why would she mention a creative writing course?” Claire asked.
“Beats me…” Zo chomped into her onion.
Brooks jumped up onto the porch and handed Claire a bottle of Tylenol and a paper cup of water. “Did I miss anything?”
Zo and Claire looked at each other. “Nope,” said Zo, shaking her head.
“Nuh-uh,” followed Claire, pushing up a bottom lip in thought and shaking hers also.
The rain had pretty much departed now; only the festival attendees’ drooping hats suggested there was ever any to begin with. The emcee was still cracking jokes on stage.
“What’s the difference between a cruise liner and Noah’s Ark? On a cruise, there are no safety guarantees and your ham and eggs scare you.” He turned to the side and pretended to vomit.
“Boo, Mike! Get off the stage!” someone yelled. “Your soggy hat has gone to your brain.”
“Ah-ha-ha-ha,” everyone laughed.
“Tough crowd! I need a drink anyway.” He jumped off the stage.
The three enjoyed people-watching as they continued munching away. Brooks sat with his arm around Claire. A singing contest for ages six to thirteen delighted them. It was the highlight of the festival. A curly-haired eight-year-old won five hundred dollars singing an energetic “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy.” She got a standing ovation.
During the night, the “Boogie Woogie” invaded Zo’s dreams, then became mysterious, soft drums calling her to Indian magic and the face of Daniel. He was coming in for a thrilling kiss of the century, so much desired, so… “Mom!”
I’m not your Mom.
“Mom, wake up!” a loud whisper intruded.
Aroused from her sleep, Zo was confused. She tried to wrap her mind around her dark surroundings. Her eyes focused, and an image of Claire looming over her in a night shirt became clear.
“Hear that? Distant drumming…”
“More than that, I feel it.” Zo sat up cross-legged in bed and listened longer. “We should follow it to the source this time.”
THIRTEEN “That’s what I say. Here, put this on.” Claire tossed her a t-shirt that said “Skydiving is for the birds.” At the festival, Brooks bought them both one because of the emergency airplane jump that started their adventure.
They hopped around on one leg at a time, rushing to get into their pants in the dark, since only a little moonlight filtered through the closed curtain. After pulling their roper boots on, Claire hurriedly brushed her hair up into a ponytail, and her mom pulled hers back at the neck with a hair band.
Claire grabbed their lantern and carefully opened the door, adding “Shhh” to her mom when she accidentally dropped her purse in her haste.
The hallway
was especially dark except for the green glow of a nightlight. Zo whispered, “Wait, Claire, I want to take advantage of the dark and look inside Elena’s room.”
“They still have the Do-Not-Cross tape up.” She lifted the lantern toward it.
“Like that would stop me.”
Claire rolled her neck, easing her tension. “Fine. Just hurry.”
Elena’s keys tinkled against each other as Zo tried finding the right fit.
“You have her keys?”
“Yeah, why?”
Claire decided not to reply. Her mother was always more of a risk-taker, even when the risk threatened to get them in big, scary trouble.
Once in, Zo locked the door behind them. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
Pulling the bed’s quilt back, Claire picked up a pillow and reached into its cover. “Aha!” Her hand came out, clutching a folded piece of paper. “Elena had a penchant for hiding things in pillowcases, didn’t she? And what do you suppose this is?” She unfolded the mystery paper. “Here, hold up the lantern for me.”
Zo moved closer with the light.
Claire read softly, “I fear you will do me harm. I overheard one of you say to the other, ‘Get the only true gold mine for us around here secured. Do what you have to! It’s already bloody.’ Since you saw me looking at you, that means I am in danger. I’ll send a copy of this letter to the police, if you don’t leave me be. I warn you, Camram Sko!”
“Camram Sko?” Zo questioned, “What’s that mean?”
Claire turned over the plain stationery and showed what was written in pencil. “I don’t know, but there’s more on the back here: ‘I have to think what to do with my map. However, yesterday, I did send off the original letter of this to Cam.’”
“It’s not dated…”
Claire continued, whispering, “Elena put that clue to something in my pillowcase the day before yesterday. I only noticed it when it bothered my sleep, as she knew it would. We have to figure out the riddle.” The drums pulsed louder, but Zo wasn’t sure she was hearing so much as feeling it.
“Wait! I hear somebody outside the door,” whispered Zo.
“Yeah, voices…”
“Quick! Let’s go out the window!” Zo raised the blind halfway, quietly, and Claire unlocked the window. Together, they pushed it up. Shoving the dusty screen off, Zo went out first, one leg at a time. Claire passed her the lantern, then swung her legs through and jumped. Afterwards, she hefted herself up onto the sill, and reached through with one arm to pull the blind down most the way when she heard a jingle of keys. She was going to stand up a little to peek in.
“No. Don’t!” Zo tugged her arm. “They’ll see your shadow.”
They both listened, since the window was still open.
The voices were whispers, unidentifiable. “Look an’ see if there’s anything here that could incriminate us.”
“We wouldn’t have to do that if you weren’t so trigger happy. Maybe we could’ve paid her off.”
“Little ol’ ladies are too righteous. Jist shut up an’ do what I tell you. An’ shut that window!”
The Kanes plastered themselves flatter to either side of the window. Claire motioned to her mother to come on, and they took off running toward the horse barn to get their preferred means of transportation.
The whole ranch looked sinister, with the icy moon casting long, black shadows. Upon entering the dark barn, they decided to take an ATV instead, that is, if there were keys still left in any of them. One horse whinnied and another snorted.
Claire said in a normal tone, to soothe them, “It’s all right, boys. Just us.” It was hard to see, but the horses were bedded down.
“Hee-hawww-hee-hee-hee!”
“Dang it, Mom! Roy knows we’re here. He’ll wake everyone. Go over there and talk to him.”
Zo darted to his stall and rubbed his cheeks while Claire went over to look through the ATVs for keys, her lantern’s light moving around the vehicles with her.
One started up and then shut down. “No gas,” Claire said in a quiet voice.
“Goldstrike isn’t in his stall!” Zo whispered as loudly as she could. There was, however, another familiar horse—Lucy, Mackey’s gray mare that hadn’t been seen since they first dropped in.
Lucy looked up at Zo with her long-lashed, doe eyes, and gave a soft whinny.
“What are you doing in here?” Zo asked sweetly.
The mare walked in a circle, favoring a front leg, limping.
“You hurt, girl?” Zo reached in and combed fingers through her mane. It was so dark, it was hard to see in the shadows. She decided to open the stall and enter.
The horse limped back. Some moonlight sifted in from the corral, and Zo could finally see the hurt foot was wrapped up in bandages.
“Poor thing. You’re really hurt, aren’tcha?”
An engine started and purred. With only the lantern to light the way, it moved forward. “This is the one,” Claire said. “Get on, quick. We’ll have to make a run for it, because it’s much easier to hear someone who’s driving around.”
The little all-terrainer sped past the ranch house, its occupants bumping along without any headlights on. “This one is quite a bit nicer than the other we drove,” Claire noted. “It’s got more guts to it.” They bounced over a rut on the way to the back fence.
“I’m glad it comes with seatbelts and a roll bar,” murmured her mom.
Once out in the desert, the cacti took on shapes of men in threatening stances, horses on the run, and rearing and vicious animals, poised to attack. The moon illuminated the way to the giant known as Devil’s Tooth, which stood ready to hurl stones down on them. The drumming became louder, clearer, and was now sounding tinny, like hammers clanking, chipping away at the monolith.
They parked the vehicle where they previously tied up Roy and Goldstrike to some twisty shrubs. Claire kept her hand on the throttle and said, “Are others out here? Should we go back?”
“Just a moment.” Zo opened the compartment at the back of the vehicle, and sure enough, it was outfitted the same as their other ATV, minus the snacks. She pulled out a pair of binoculars and eyed their surroundings. “I don’t see anyone.” She touched her purse and said, “But I’ve got my gun.”
“Somehow, that doesn’t make me feel any better,” Claire said. “I am definitely hearing hammers.”
Zo slowly nodded. “Just like Elena’s riddle map.”
“What?”
She quoted, “First, there is silver, then there are hammers picking a path to gold…”
Claire sucked in a deep breath of the cold night air and looked up the shadowy, craggy face of Devil’s Tooth. “What are you saying, Mom? That something supernatural is happening here?”
Zo stuffed the binoculars in her purse. “Probably,” she simply replied.
Claire groaned. “Why us?”
Zo repeated the start of the riddle while holding out her wrist with the cuff: “First, there is silver…”
“Yep, your bracelet is silver all right.” Claire sat, rethinking things. “We don’t have to follow the hammers. Maybe your cuff is cursed.”
Zo would have none of that. “And miss out on solving the mystery?” she asked.
Claire got off the ATV, holding the battery lantern, and said, “Mom, you are a bad influence on me. I swear…”
The duo started up the natural path on the side of the monument. Claire led the way with the light. Time passed quickly and they managed to climb up much of the rocky butte without incident.
“I’m sure thousands have hiked up here, only to discover nothing,” Claire opined.
“The difference is, we have a mystical cuff leading us on our path,” noted Zo.
They continued their incline, as it grew a bit steeper. It was a little scary to look down because there was no railing.
“What’s that?” Claire asked, stopping. “Listen…”
It sounded like footsteps from behind, but since the path went around
the plateau, they couldn’t be sure. The chinking sound of hammering was so close, they could feel it reverberating in their chests. So close, yet still hidden.
With short breaths of trepidation, they scuffed their last footsteps to Devil’s Tooth’s flat surface. It was suddenly quiet—no more hammering. It was also desolate. Not a weed could thrive atop its rocky terrain. Everything was visible for miles and miles, even the ranch, now appearing dark and dormant in the wee hours of night. There were, however, sporadic lights from a town in the distance.
Zo peered over the edge at the walking path below, but saw no one coming. Just the same, she decided to take out her gun in case of a surprise ambush.
The sun was sneaking up, with dawn fast approaching, and radiating a soft yellow hue. The hammering started up again, becoming more pronounced from the east side of the monolith. The fiery orb in the sky observed their every nervous step. They stopped when the hammering hummed right through their boots, sending tingles up their feet and calves.
A crooked elevation sign peeked over a large stone. Claire touched it. Her fingers tingled. “This is creepy.”
Zo put her gun back in her purse and took out the paper with the riddle. “‘First, there is silver. Then, there is hammering picking a path to gold.’ This is the place.”
“Fine, and I would tend to agree with you, but where is the cave? Doesn’t the rest of the riddle mention some sort of mouth?”
“Yes. We are such unprepared people! A pick in time saves gold in a mine.”
“Uh-huh…” Claire was used to her mother’s unique words of wisdom. She swung an arm over the sign to consider the puzzle. “What’s the rest of the riddle say? Let’s see if we can figure out anything more.”
Zo backed up toward Claire, with the paper in hand, readying to read on. To their astonishment, the sign’s pole suddenly sunk halfway into the ground, followed by a strange quaking. Gravel shifted under their boots, and they grabbed each other with yelps.
“Oh, dear God,” Zo said, her hands clamping her daughter’s arm. “An earthquake?”
Before they could speak another word, they were swallowed up, and sliding down inside the rumbling Devil’s Tooth.
