The Treasure Map

Samantha Swales pushed through the tourist throng that blocked the sidewalk. Though she loved her job in D.C., these summer crowds drove her crazy. Brushing a blonde lock from her face, she glanced around. The midday sun threatened to blister her freckled arms, but a nearby bookshop offered respite. She darted inside. This was no Barnes and Noble; leather-bound volumes filled the shelves. Antiquarian books fascinated her, which was why she'd majored in English Literature at UDC. A display cabinet caught her eye, and she chuckled when she discovered a “treasure map”.

She recognized the Shenandoah River flowing across the yellowed parchment, but an unfamiliar script rendered the annotations incomprehensible. Near the top, a rainbow stood out from gray mountains. Samantha had played Tomb Raider, so she knew the dangers of seeking hidden treasure. She smiled at her overactive imagination.

A bald man hobbled over. “May I assist you, miss?”

“It's beautiful.”

“Indeed. Drawn in 1450 by Patrick O'Hara… that's what it states here in Gaelic.”

“1450?” She checked the price tag. “Surely it's worth more than a hundred bucks?”

“Well, it's a fake.”

“Oh.”

“Wonderful craftsmanship, though. The parchment feels real, the details hand painted.”

She examined the fine brushstrokes forming trees to suggest forests. This would look wonderful on her living room wall. “How do you know it's fake?”

“The date.”

“Of course.” Her cheeks warmed. How could this possibly be pre-Columbian?

“The accuracy of geographical features suggests it was copied from a Victorian survey map. This sentence here claims there's treasure behind the rainbow.”

“You understand Gaelic?”

“No, but I know a lady who does.”

She bit her lip. “However old it is, it sure is pretty.” Tasteful prints adorned every wall of her apartment, but she'd never paid more than twenty dollars. Perhaps it was time she invested in some fine art. “I'll take it.”

The shopkeeper shrugged apologetically and gestured to a label. “Sorry, it's reserved.”

On a whimsy, she said, “I'll pay one twenty.”

The shopkeeper glanced at the door, then at the wall clock. “Well, it was an internet sale, and he promised to come before noon…”

She fluttered her eyelashes. “Pleeease.”

“All right. One twenty for cash.” He slid the map into a protective tube and passed it over.

She smiled; men were such pushovers. As she turned to leave, a really short man entered wearing the green uniform of the National Park Service. “Sorry I'm late.”

“Sir?” said the shopkeeper.

“I'm Thomas O'Hara.”

“Ah.” the shopkeeper glanced at Samantha. “This is awkward.”

“How so?” The newcomer ran a hand through his ginger mop.

“I've sold this lady the map.”

“But I drove all the way from Shenandoah.” The diminutive man approached Samantha. He smelled… woodsy. “You bought it?”

“Why does it mean so much to you?”

“It's a family heirloom.”

“How did it wind up in a bookshop?”

“After my Uncle Mick died, it went missing. Yesterday, I spotted it on Ebay.”

Samantha sighed and made to hand it over. “I suppose it's only fair you should have it.”

“Thank you. It's been in my family for four centuries.”

She snatched back the tube. “Four hundred years?”

“Yes.”

She placed her hands on her hips. How could she have believed his lies? “You must have kissed the Blarney Stone.”

“Pardon?”

She prodded his chest. “This map isn't that old, buddy.”

“Please—”

“Please, nothing. I've watched White Collar. I know a con trick when I see one.”

The man clenched his fists. “You don't want to mess with me.”

Samantha had listened to this jerk long enough. “Back off, Ranger Smith. I don't know how they run things at Jellystone, but around here your knot-tying badge don't mean diddly squat.”

“My name is O'Hara, lady, and I don't take kindly to your attitude.”

“My attitude?” She turned to the shopkeeper. “Telephone the police.”

“Don't bother,” said the man. “I'm outta here.”


***

Samantha stepped back from her living room wall, then stumbled. How much had she drunk this evening?

“It's a little high on the right,” said Alice.

Ever since her best friend got promoted to junior partner, she'd acted like she could do everything better than Samantha, even hanging a map.

“Oh, let me.” Alice bustled over, her brunette ponytail bouncing.

After she'd nudged the frame, the map did look straighter, but Samantha didn't give her the satisfaction of admitting it. Instead she lifted the glass of Bollinger to her lips and savored its sweet flavor. She only drank Champagne when her more affluent friend brought a bottle over.

Alice pointed to the rainbow. “Are you going to check it out?”

Samantha collapsed onto the sofa. “The map's fake.”

Her friend joined her. “I've never been to Shenandoah.”

“It's a two hour drive.”

“Remember how we played Tomb Raider together at college?”

“You're not seriously suggesting a treasure hunt?”

Alice's eyes sparkled. “Where's your sense of adventure?”

Samantha downed her glass. Was that her third or her fourth?

“We should go,” insisted Alice.

Samantha poured herself another, the cool wine dribbling over her fingers as she missed the glass. “There'sh no treasure.”

“Obviously, but it'll still be fun. Let's go tomorrow.”

“Got Chursh.”

“We'll skip.”

Samantha examined the red stains on her jeans. Did she drink that last glass or spill it? She giggled. Maybe it would be fun. “Okay.”

“Really.”

“Yesh.”

“Yay! Road trip.”

***

“We're here,” said Alice from the driver's seat of her BMW sedan.

Samantha's head pounded like the Washington Monument had collapsed onto it, stone by stone. “Who cares?”

Alice smirked like some IRS guy at an audit. “It's a glorious day.”

“Ugh.” She glanced at the gigantic firs. “How on earth did you convince me to do this?”

“You were all up for it last night. Remember how you pinpointed that pond on Google Earth?”

“When was that?”

Alice pulled on the hand brake. “Just before you pulled your panties over your head and declared undying love for Donald Trump.”

“I didn't!”

Alice squeezed her shoulder. “Don't worry. I was joking about Donald Trump.”

“Thank God!” She clambered out of the car, and her pumps squelched into mud. “Great.”

“Told you to wear boots.”

“Didn't think you were serious.” She glanced into the forest. The green canopy cast a gloomy shadow across the ferns and bushes. Alice probably knew the names of each plant. Samantha sighed and reached back into the car for the map.

“Be easier if you took it out that frame?”

“And get it dirty?”

“You should've made a copy.”

Samantha shrugged. If the map was accurate, their destination was only a short distance away. Seeing a trail head, she walked that direction. “Hey, Alice. Do you think there'll be bears?”

“This close to the road? I doubt it.”

She stepped onto the gravel path. “You know this is pointless, right? A thousand people a year must pass that pond. If there was treasure, someone would have found it.”

Alice patted her backpack. “I brought food. A pond in the Blue Ridge Mountains sounds an idyllic spot for a picnic.”

Samantha's stomach churned, and bile rose in her throat. “Oh, great!” The last thing she wanted was to eat.

The path was easy to follow, and the fresh breeze actually invigorated her. Quicker than she'd expected, they walked out from the trees into a clearing. Bright sunbeams shone upon a small waterfall filling a green pool.

“Look!” said Alice.

Samantha followed her gaze. A faint rainbow arched across the waterfall's spray. “Oh my God.”

“Let's go look.”

Up until this moment, Samantha had assumed the mapmaker never visited this place. Discovering that the rainbow existed, she became more focused. She followed Alice with renewed determination, not minding when the firm path transformed into a boggy trail.

“I think there's a gap behind the fall,” said Alice.

“Don't bears hibernate in caves?”

“In midsummer?”

“Oh, right.” Her cheeks blazed.

The track led behind the sparkling curtain of water. She considered leaving the map behind, but it was inside its frame.

Alice disappeared behind the curtain. “Wow, look at this.”

Samantha joined her and gasped at the huge cavern the waterfall so effectively concealed.

Alice peered into the depths. “We must come back with proper equipment and professional help.”

“What do you mean come back? We've just arrived.”

“It's pitch black in there. If there's a hole in those shadows, we'll fall in.”

“We could walk a little way—”

“I'm not taking one more step without a flashlight.” Alice turned to leave. “Come on, Lara Croft.”

“Now?”

“Yes. We need to think about who to call.” Alice rested a finger on her lips. “There's a ranger station down the road. We can ask them about this cave. There might even be a spelunking club.”

Samantha followed her friend back out into the sunlight and was struck by a sudden thought. Alice had dragged her here. Against all expectations, they'd found a rainbow. Could there be treasure? Was Alice getting rid of Samantha so she could sneak back here by herself?

As they skirted around the pond, this idea nagged at her. She halted. “Wait a second.” She made a show of crossing her legs. “I need to pee.”

“There'll be a restroom at the ranger station.”

“I can't wait.”

“Okay.” Alice's eyes flicked toward the map. “Want me to take that for you?”

Samantha gripped the map tighter. “No, I'm good, thanks.”

“All right. Meet me at the car.”

Once Alice had walked out of sight, Samantha jogged back to the cave. She'd just take a quick look.

When she stood in the cave mouth alone, the dark interior appeared more foreboding, but a fanciful image of gold doubloons urged her on. She stepped gingerly across the uneven surface. Deeper in, her eyes grew accustomed to the gloom. Alice was overcautious. Real life wasn't full of booby-traps and pitfalls like in some video game. This wasn't dangerous at all.

The ground disappeared. Samantha tumbled into a black void. Her stomach lurched. Cool air rushed past. She plummeted through the darkness. Unexpected light illuminated a rocky surface below. She crashed feet first, and crumpled onto the stone. Pain lanced through both her legs.

Dazed, she raised her head and glanced around. She'd fallen into what looked like a room inside an old house. No windows broke the monotony of the rough stone walls; the light came from a fireplace with a river-stone mantle. A black cauldron hung from a hook over the eerie green flames. A garlic smell suggested it may contain soup.

Someone stirred in an armchair facing the fire. A silhouette stood then transformed into a short man in a green uniform. She recognized him.

“M-Mister O'Hara?”

“Nice of you to drop in.”

“Please, I'm hurt. Help me.”

“Help you?” He laughed. “I'd wondered how long it would take you.”

Rainbows, treasure, little men—assorted facts and childhood fairy tales came together with a click. “You're a l-l-l—”

“Don't use the 'l' word! It's offensive. We're not 'wee folks', either. I'm a forest guardian.”

He strolled over and plucked up the map in its shattered frame. “Thanks for returning my prop. They take ages to paint.”

“I d-don't understand.”

He grinned, revealing teeth like a saw blade. “I'd like you to stay for brunch.” Reaching into a recess near the fire, he took out an ax.

As understanding dawned, dampness spread out from her crotch, warming her inner thighs.

“You see”—he licked his lips—“there's a reason we guardians spread rumors about treasure at the end of rainbows.”




WORD COUNT: 2000


WRITTEN FOR:

SURVEY

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