Jerimiah's Gold

Chapter 3

I arrived shortly atop the hill that the clerk had directed me to. The house wasn't what I had expected it to look like. For some reason, I was expecting at least a normal, well renovated cottage. I was instead met with a ramshackle shed that was a shell of a house. I knocked on the rotten wood door three times. A very elderly woman peaked through an ajar opening from behind the door. I took my hat off and held it to my chest in respect.

"Yes?" A frail voice whimpered from the darkness.

"Hi, ma'am, I would like to speak to you about Gaunt Cassidy." I spoke softly as to not threaten her.

"My husband is dead." Her voice grew cold.

"Yes ma'am, I know. If I could just have a minute?" I flinched when the door slammed in my face.

I scowled and put my hat back on before clearing my throat and straightening my back. I wasn't leaving without what I wanted, I needed that landmark to proceed with the hunt. I rolled my neck on my shoulders and stretched my arms.

"Ma'am," I said more coldly, "open the door."

I was met by the ambience of both the pine forest behind me, and the sounds of boat bells from the harbor. I wiped a booger from my nose with my thumb and proceeded to pound on the door until it reopened. The woman swung open the door and a double barrel shotgun was inches from my face.

"I'll give you to the count of three, loan shark, to get the hell off my property. My husband's dead, there ain't no debt to be paid." I heard both hammers get pulled back.

"There's a misunderstanding." I corrected her.

"Who are you this time, huh? Sheppard's? Cliffs? We've made our peace, let Gaunt rest you son of a whore."

"Ma'am, I'm not here for any debt." I slowly rose my hands to my chest. "I'm here to inquire about a map."

Silence. As before, I was met with nature's ambience. The shotgun swayed gently as her steadiness faded. I slowly took my hand to the tip of the barrels and cautiously, and calmly, lowered her weapon.

"May I come in?" I asked gently now.

Like the reflexes of a cat, the gun was snatched from view, "Lock the door behind you." She said before I escorted myself inside her shack.

The door was slammed behind me and a combination of different locks were triggered open its closing. The elderly woman waddled from behind me and into an armchair in which she leaned her gun upon, and lit herself a cigarette from a clay-made ashtray. Another seat sat beside hers, which I took after removing my hat. I examined the one room house as I sat. A single bed was positioned in the corner against the opposite wall, directly in front of the bed was a furnace and a counter that was really just two planks attached by a spool of some kind, and hammered into the wall to work as a makeshift windowsill as well. The only pieces of furniture were the bed, the two armchairs, and a tiny table that held two weathered, wooden chairs. The only light hung above us from a dim and pathetically lit lantern, and of course the little amount of sun that the torn curtains allowed to slip through and cast a golden ray of dust particles.

She ashed her cigarette, "So, what's this about a map?" She said with the cigarette still in her mouth, so she'd mumble her sentences instead of speaking clearly and opting against holding the cigarette.

"Your husband, Gaunt Cassidy, is he the cartographer for the map of Jerimiah's Gold?" My question induced a hoarse cackle from her.

"Gaunt? The cartographer?" She bent over slapping the armrest of the chair in laughter, "No, sweetie, I'm the cartographer, Gaunt just wrote the instructions."