Jerimiah's Gold

Chapter 25: El Desperada

I arrived to the California state line in the first strokes of evening. The hot, humid air welcomed me with coyote calls and desert fauna. I rode on a dirt path that led to a fork in the road with a post that held directions of nearby towns: Belle Haven and Clements Hill. Belle Haven was only ten miles away going North. I remembered the camp being just fifteen minutes away from that town, headed further towards Oregon, therefore I'd need to go to Belle Haven if I wanted to or not.

Opting for Belle Haven, I steered Wiona right and road the ten miles slowly and calmly. Her hooves clicked against rocks that we're strewn and scattered, her mane flowed gracefully in the light breeze. It was then that I noticed how dirty she was. Instead of glowing a bleached blonde when the sun's evening ray hit her, splotches of dirty and grime made themselves known to my peripheral. I looked down at her, inspecting the wear on her body. She had suffered a lot, all because she trusts me, and her and I have a bond that couldn't be matched with another human. We - people - need this spiritual bond, this connection with any animal. It could only bring us closer to the reality of nature. I'd make it a point to wash her as soon as we get into Belle Haven.

Arriving to the town in the first fall of night, Wiona's breath being present on the air as body heat evaporated from her, leaving a trail of light vapor as we made our way into the main road. The main general store beaconed with light from oil lanterns, welcoming anyone in as it was the only shop still open at this time. I checked my pocket watch, now being shattered and full of dirt, but still barely readable, "8:27" read the hour hands. I inhaled deeply before releasing it through my nostrils.

I rode passed the store, not wanting to make anymore stops. I rode slow, allowing Wiona a break from galloping and sprinted she endured for so long. Her hooves clicked against the pavement hypnotically as the wind picked up and carried particles of rain with it. I inhaled deeply once more, embracing the newly crisp air that wafted itself through the streets.

I heard wings fluttering wildly above me. I looked up to see a murder of crows fly overhead and into the direction I was going. Either I followed them, or they followed me, regardless, we traveled together. I strode pass the sheriff's office on my way out of the town. Sheriff Blu Joe sat on the porch with a shotgun in his lap. I had never spoken to the sheriff for obvious reasons. He always seemed on edge and tense, like he was seconds from going haywire and shooting up every criminal in the country. He had that look on his face that only figures of authority could achieve. A look of both self satisfaction and snobbery. He greeted me with a motionless wave, I responded by tipping my hat and riding out of the town.

Once on the main road, I sped Wiona up to a light trot before finally allowing her to gallop at her own pace. I was close enough to camp to remember the change of scenery. See, we were camped in Northern California, pretty much bordering into Washington state. So the difference between desert and forest made itself seen through specks of grass upon the sandy tundra of California's deserts. The crows were still with me. Guiding me almost. Vultures circled a decaying coyote, as more could be heard calling from afar. It was dark, the sun gone and now replaced by the moon's pale light.

Ominous as it was, I kept hope in my heart. Wiona bounced me around as she made a full gallop. I steadied my positioning. Finally, Mother would get the medicine she needs, and hopefully, peace will reign over the Blaine family. I'm thinking about asking Frederick to move the family more North and keep going until we reach Canada. To further the distance between us and the tension of the US Government. Smoke wafted upwards above the pine trees, entering the atmosphere and welcoming me home with a campfire. I pushed Wiona just a bit harder until she entered a sprint. Twigs broke and tree limbs slapped my face, but I gave each inconvenience no acknowledgment as my heart became full.

The brush cleared and a stream became present directly in front of me. The unexpected current of water startled Wiona, who reared back and let out a frightful neigh. Keeping my grip on her reigns, once she planted her front hooves on the earth, I patted her nape and cooed softly into her ear. She calmed down quickly and I dismounted her, opting to lead her the rest of the way. We walked through the mud, water sloshing about my feet and soaking the ends of my already torn jeans, my shirt stuck to my skin from the sweat and grime, and my hair matted to my head gave the impression that my hair was made of wood. I felt both exhausted and disgusting, yet prideful all at the same time. The gold bricks that were thrown lazily into my satchel repeatedly pelted my spine as I traversed over uneasy marshland. The smell of burning wood from a campfire penetrated both my nostrils and my will to trudge on despite how wobbly my legs had now become. My back and shoulders ached from the weight of the gold, and my Colt 45 now had traces of rust and deterioration. I let out deep and labored exhales as my boots stomped through the mud, and Wiona's hooves trampled any walkway that would have existed. 

The stream came to a fall, which then lead into a spring, the spring being where camp was held. I saw the campfire first, and then Stalone, and suddenly Frederick and Caroline were sitting on a log in a mournful embrace. My heart nearly beat out of my chest as I hastily mounted Wiona. She sped downhill and towards camp, almost already knowing where to go as she made a perfect B line directly to where they were sitting.

Frederick shot up to his feet when he heard the thundering hooves of Wiona. He sounds around to face me and removed his hat solemnly. I practically jumped off Wiona's back and into my brothers arms, which was shortly accompanied by Caroline's careful hands surrounding both of us in a long embrace as we all cried in a mix of emotions. The wind was still, the trees made no noises as the moon sparkled and dance on the waters surface.

"Klara," Frederick's rough voice croaked, "there's something you must know before-"

"Mother!" I interrupted him excitedly, "Where's mother? I have to show her the gold. I have to buy her the medicine!"

"How long do you think you've been gone, Klara?" Caroline asked innocently.

"Oh, come on, it's only been a few weeks."

"No, it hasn't. It's been nearly two months." Frederick answered.

"No, that's impossible. I was just in a fishing town not even four weeks ago. I know my absence was prolonged, but there's no way it's been that long."

Both of them fell very silent. Then Frederick brought his arm around my shoulders and walked me to the log they were sitting on. Taking my seat by the waters edge, realization began to set in. Realization of the mourning, of the somberness. Where was Mother's tent? She had the most lavish and decorated tent, but where it once stood only presented a lonesome cross made out of tree branches. A long sigh escaped me uncontrollably. Frederick sat beside me and lit himself a cigarette before offering me one, which I accepted. We took a few drags before he spoke again.

"It was cancer of the lungs. There was nothing we could've done. No medicine in the world to help." He spoke coldly as he always did. "Klara, I'm so sorry. I know you wanted to help, I know you had pure intentions. But kindness and generosity will only get you so far, she died just last Tuesday. Caroline and I buried her with Deak. It was a nice day, the sun was bright, it was a beautiful funeral."

I began sobbing. Unhinged tears fell from my eyes as my world came closing in. The ground came up fast, but Frederick caught me from falling and pulled my head onto his shoulder. I allowed myself to cry on him as he did his best to comfort me. Caroline finally sat on the other side of me and placed a gentle hand on my shoulder.