Treasure Map Stories by Buffalohair Page 8

After Lunch let’s go hunt treasure. Start of Treasure Hunt,

[img][/img]

Sun Jan 06, 2008 12:29 pm Post subject:

As the pair drove north towards Colorado, the clouds grew darker and darker. It was bitter cold on Sal’s exposed face as it cutting through sleet and rain. His goggles were covered in frost and ice. It was only a 40 mile ride but the winter storm was not calculated into the equation. Sal’s leathers were frozen and the front of his bike looked like a snow cone. In the back was Mona, holding on. Her jet black hair was white with frost and ice.In a feeble attempt to point with his frozen hand Sal made a gesture for them to pull into the next town they came up to. As he pointed, Mona just shook her head in agreement; the girl was shaking like a leaf. The bike came to a stop in front of a Denny’s Restaurant. The wind began to howl as the pair dismounted the bike. Mona was already at the entrance of the restaurant when Sal motioned Mona to continue into the café. Sal immediately walked back to his bike and took a long hard draw of the whiskey in his saddlebag. Just as he took a slug he caught Mona’s eye through the window of the café. “Dayum” Sal exclaimed as he put the bottle back in the bag. As Sal made his way into the restaurant he heard a familiar voice beckon; “Hey Salvatore, over here!” Mona shouted. Sal turned his head only to find Mona in a corner booth with that silly map on the table. There were two cups of piping hot coffee on the table. It was a warm and welcome sight for this soaked and cold motorcycle ride. As he began to sit down, Mona started; “So we are in Raton New Mexico? According to the map we should be pretty near a village named ‘El Rito’.” Somewhat perplexed Sal looked at Mona and retorted; “Huh?” “Sit down here and let me show you what I’m talking about Francis”, Mona quipped. Still somewhat perplexed Sal retorted to the salty little gal; “Salvatore, Francis, gads I’m beginning to loosing my identity. So what’s my name this time doll face?” Sal said laughingly. Mona froze then turned to Sal with a cold hard stare and said; “Look Sal or Francis or whatever floats your canoe, those are your names. What do you want, an Indian one, paleeeeze? How about “Talking Smack” and STOP calling me doll face! Gawd I hate that!” Then she slammed her cup down on the table causing some of the dark elixir to splash her face. Stunned by the volatility of the conversation, Sal looked blankly at Mona. Equally stunned was Mona who realized how venomous her tongue can be. She just started blankly back at Sal. It was a moment of awkward silence for the two of them. Apparently it was a moment of awkward silence for the people in the restaurant as well since by that time; Mona was in high volume with her sharp repartee. Mona then reached out and grasped Sal’s hand. With an authoritarian yet regretful candor she said; “I’m sorry Sal it’s me. I can be a real be-otch sometimes. I’m the only one who watches my back” Looking into Mona’s eyes, Sal’s hand reached for the paper napkin then proceeded to wipe a drop of coffee off Mona’s nose. Sal said; “Consentirme” Instantly, Mona responded; “Ringraziamenti” Sal paused again and said; “Lei capisce l’italiano?” Sitting up in her seat, Mona said with great pride; “Well, I did work at Godfather’s Pizza” _________________ Creativity is the byproduct of a fertile mind Posted: Tue Jan 08, 2008 6:26 am Post subject: The two laughed and settled into their coffees as they warmed their bones. Mona had the map and was trying to compare it with the road atlas. After a few minutes Sal reached over and pointed to a spot on the vintage map then he said; “Here we are Mona, we are at the base of Raton Pass. This was an old trade route called the Santa Fe Trail. And….” His words were cut short as Mona said; “Yeah, yeah, yeah Mr. History I know all about this trail and all the Native’s it displaced or simply murdered. This and other trails, like the Oregon Trail for example, were some of the worst ecological disasters of this era. Sorry Francis, I’m really trying not to be such a bitch. Just everything seems to piss me off these days. Not everything, just some cultural issues I guess.” Mona continued; “You know, when you literally ran into me, I was on my way to California. I was going to audition for one of them reality shows where you eat all those eye balls. Thought I’d do pretty good since we ate eye balls and stuff ever since I could remember. Anyway, I wanted to win that million bucks. I thought it was worth a chance to audition for that lame show.” Sal countered; “So what were you going to do with that mil, if you won it?” “Get clean drinking water for my village. We got turds as big as house boats in our drinking water back home. The water is killing us and all we get is double talk from the talking heads. Yeah well, so much for that idea. I doubt I would have made the cut anyway. They don’t have many Natives on these shows.” Mona said. Mona thought for a moment then she queried; “Tell me something, what would you do if you won a million bucks?” “Go to the market and get some shopping done before the rush” Sal said jokingly. Puzzled, Mona asks; “Ah, what rush, what are you talking about?” Sal continued; “Oh you know the rush Mona. That’s when people get wind of you having some cash. They rush on over to be your best friend and help you spend that money. Funny how all of a sudden it’s a rush to get inside of your wallet.” countered Sal. “No really Sal, what would you do if you got 1 million bucks dumped on your lap today?” the quizzical Mona said. Sal was deep within his thoughts. He truly had no answer for such a simple question. He pondered for several minutes then said; “Think I’d just give it back and say, No Thanks!” “Come on Fran, tell me you would not go on over to Harley Heaven and buy a new motorcycle and another bottle of that whiskey.” said Mona. “Anyway Mona, we are here in Raton New Mexico. It’s just too icy and the sleet is turning into snow. Look at the bike, it looks like a snow cone. Besides we still have to climb another 3 thousand feet to get over Raton Pass. Man, its really coming down now.” Sal said. As they looked at the maps on the table a family covered in snow burst into the restaurant. Freezing and covered in snow the family finds a warm place to sit in the ever growing crowd at the caf챕. While talking to weather worn family members, the father exclaimed; “….bet they’ll close the pass” Sal’s ears perked up at this revelation. Then he made his way out of the booth and told Mona; “I’ll be right back” And in an instant he was out of the caf챕 and into the storm. Mona sat back and read the menu occasionally listening to the scuttlebutt from fellow travelers. More people were coming in from this sudden bitter storm. It was a human drama unfolding before her eyes. A state trooper was standing in line waiting to fill his thermos and told a fellow trooper the details of a horrific accident on the icy mountain pass. Another person at the counter was singing the blues over his car being in the ditch. The State Trooper asked for all the dinners’ attention and announced that the interstate was closed until at the very least 9 or 10 am the next day. He advised everyone to find a motel and with this sage advice the dinner began to empty as motorists began to find rooms. It’s been a while since Sal went out to his bike. The waitress came to take Mona’s order only to be waved off. Mona began to worry about Sal since he was taking way to much time. As she sat there she began to drift in thought. A little girl was crying in the next booth and this carried Mona back to a time when she was very young. Her memories took her to a family outing in the countryside. She was helping her mom unload the pick up truck. Her mother was busy getting the camp squared away. It appeared to be a nice day for a cook out with a clear sky. Then as Mona was carrying a box of food to the camp a bottle fell out of the box and broke on the ground. Little Mona looked to the ground and saw it was one of her dad’s bottles. At that moment she felt someone grab her arm and slap her face repeatedly all the time yelling at her. It was her drunken father and he was upset that she broke the bottle of whiskey. Her mom came over to help her daughter. Mona recalled the savage beating her mom got on that bright sunny day at the camp ground. Tears were streaming down her face as she sat helpless as her mom was beaten by her drunken dad. Entranced, she could not turn her head and witnessed every savage blow her mother took on that fateful day. All she should do was pray as her mom was beaten till her face was bloody. Then she heard her mom’s voice, “Run Mona, Run!”. Mona heard the voice again, ‘Mona, Mona”. Suddenly Mona felt a hand grasp her arm and she leaped out of her skin then heard; “Wow Mona, slow down it’s only me. Are you all right?” It was Sal and he was covered with snow from head to foot. Physically shaken by her bout with PTSD’s Mona looked up to her rescuer Sal and said; “What the heck happened to you?” With his nose bright red and his eye brows white with snow Sal happily retorted; “I got us a room before it was too late. It’s at the Motel 6 and they left the light on for us. But are you OK?” Wiping the tears from her eyes Mona quickly said; “I have to pee” Then she got up and made tracks to the rest room. After sitting down at the booth Sal drank down more of his coffee and thought to himself; “Gads, her bladder must have been ready to explode. Women, go figure” Once in the rest room, Mona locked the door. For a few minutes she wept uncontrollably. The memories were haunting her as she struggled with sorrow and fear. Then, as quickly as the tears came, they went away. Mona said; “I need to get my act together” _________________ Creativity is the byproduct of a fertile mind