Lawrence Looks for Treasure

Part 2 - Chapter 31

Chris rode on the back of my bike. We were tired and hungry. I hadn't slept much the night before, and Chris hadn't slept at all. Neither of us had eaten. I was pretty sure Chris was hungover. But I needed to keep pedaling. What we required more than rest and food was space from the officers, before they noticed we had escaped.

Me and Chris decided to abandon his bike. Chris's bike was locked nearby the grounds where the officers had caught us. That was probably the first place they'd search once they discovered we were gone. It was simply too risky to return there. Instead, Chris would ride on the back of my bike as I pedaled in front. If I got tired, we'd switch. We were so close to Camp Okanagan, where the treasure was hidden, that we only needed one bike anyway. The journey home? A problem for another day.

Because we only had one bike, we also needed to abandon our supplies. There was simply too little room for two people and tons of stuff on one bike. We kept the map, a sleeping bag and, of course, my book. All else, we ditched. Parting with the tent was particularly painful, but it pricked to be done.

Returning to our route was simple enough. An area called Quinion and a few kilometers of railroad separated us from our destination. As long as we got to Quinion, we could follow the railroad the rest of the way.

Quinion was too small to call a town. It was more of a pit stop, whose economy supported fourty or fifty families. Quinion missed nothing in necessities, but everything in amenities. To live in Quinion, according to the standards of our hometown, was to be rustic beyond redemption.

'Almost there!' Chris shouted.

'Almost there,' I sighed. I was sore from biking, and sorer still from Matty's thrashing.

'It's your adventure,' Chris continued. 'Chin up. And try to get to Quinion while the morning's out, will ya?'

I pedaled harder, acknowledging Chris's encouragement. But, staring at the road ahead, I couldn't see myself pushing much longer. I lacked the emotional stamina. Normally, the adventure was my outlet. The thing I put all my energy into. The thing I couldn't wait to get back to. Now, the adventure felt like a burden. The thing I had no energy for. The thing I couldn't wait to end. Everything had gone wrong. Matty and Ema were gone. And Chris only remained because he felt bad for me—according to Matty, at any rate.

Up until now, at least one moment every day, I really did think we could achieve the impossible. I really did think we could find the treasure, and live richly, famously, happily ever after. At other moments, of course, I realized it was just another dumb idea. That I was wasting my time. That I should see the failure through, not give up too early, but that this was, and always would be, another failure. Well, the time had come. Half our team had quit literally, the other half emotionally. It was over. And I could finally confirm—it was a dumb idea.

'I'm never going on another adventure for the rest of my life,' I told Chris.

'That's fine, man.' Chis responded. 'Whatever you think best.'

Easy for him to say. He didn't dream of adventuring like I did. Adventurer, it was my identity. Who would I be instead? The thought was too overwhelming to consider. Besides, I needed to escape the police. I needed food and sleep. In short, I needed to get to Quinion. The sun had moved behind the clouds. The heat was finally relenting. I focused on biking. And for whatever reason, things just didn't seem so bad.

'We made it,' Chris said. 'I would've preferred a more comfortable route. Still—it'll all be worth it for the treasure. So, where next? I'm sure I'll be ready for more punishment once we get a good meal and some rest.'

'May I suggest Terry's?' I said, pointing to a burger joint by the gas station. 'That's all there is.'

And indeed there wasn't anywhere else. So we locked up our bike, bought burgers, fries and shakes, and ate under a tree in a hidden patch of forest. The weather was dry and hot. But we took our shirts off, and, all told, were quite comfortable under mother nature's shade. We still worried the officers might come by, and we prayed that our little crime would go unpunished.

The burgers and shakes were the most delicious things I'd ever eaten. My dad always said that a glass of cold water never tastes as good as after a day of hard work. That may be true. I've never really had a day of hard work. But burgers and shakes never tastes as good as after six days of biking, nearly drowning your friend, getting rejected by your crush, and breaking out of prison. Believe me. I've tried.