An Oshin of Trouble

Oshin looked at VW.

“We must get the jump on them. Let’s get to Mesa Verde now. We’ll leave them watching the bank. They’re waiting for the key, but we don’t need it.”

VW looked puzzled.

“The key?”

“The idol,” Oshin said. “The turquoise idol is the key to the ancient lock.”

VW stared at him.

“But the idol is still locked inside the safety-deposit box.”

Oshin smiled.

“That’s the point.”

He picked up the notebook.

“Did you notice the toes of the idol?”

“The toes?”

“The pattern. The Anasazi carved it for a reason. I believe that pattern tells us how the ancient lock works.”

VW looked at him skeptically.

“And you think you can open a lock that hasn’t been opened in thousands of years?”

Oshin grinned.

“I have not yet seen a lock I could not pick.”

⸻

Within the hour, they were on their way to the airport.

Their luggage had already been collected, and Oshin made sure his expedition equipment was loaded onto the camper they had arranged to rent in Albuquerque.

Climbing ropes.

Carabiners.

Harnesses.

Lanterns.

Sleeping bags.

Food and water.

And, in a long protective case, Oshin’s portable lock-picking stand.

VW watched as the last of the equipment was loaded.

“You brought everything but the kitchen sink.”

Oshin looked at the equipment.

“We may need that too.”

VW laughed.

They boarded their flight for Albuquerque.

⸻

At the same time, three men sat in a car across from the bank.

They had been waiting since early morning.

One of them looked at his watch.

“How long are we going to sit here?”

“As long as it takes.”

“The idol is still inside that box?”

“According to our information.”

The man in the driver’s seat smiled.

“Then sooner or later Oshin will come back for it.”

They had no idea that Oshin was already several thousand feet in the air, heading west.

⸻

By late morning, Oshin and VW had landed in Albuquerque.

A camper was waiting for them.

They loaded the final pieces of equipment and climbed inside.

VW took the passenger seat.

Oshin started the engine.

“How long?”

“About four hours,” VW said.

Oshin nodded.

“Good.”

The camper headed north.

The city gradually disappeared behind them. The landscape changed from desert to high country as mesas and distant mountains rose around them.

For most of the drive, Oshin studied the notebook.

VW glanced over.

“You’re still looking at that map?”

“I’m trying to understand what they were trying to hide.”

“The treasure?”

Oshin shook his head.

“The entrance.”

VW looked at him.

“You think the turquoise animals and necklaces are still there?”

“If the notebook is correct.”

“And the Sky Gods?”

Oshin smiled.

“That is what we’re going to find out.”

⸻

They reached Mesa Verde National Park in the late afternoon.

The enormous mesas rose above them, their sandstone cliffs glowing in the lowering sunlight.

Oshin slowed the camper.

For a moment, neither man spoke.

VW finally said, “It’s hard to believe people lived here thousands of years ago.”

Oshin looked toward the cliffs.

“People lived here.”

He paused.

“But according to this notebook, they left something behind.”

They continued toward Morefield Campground.

After finding a campsite, they began unloading.

The camper became the center of their temporary expedition base.

They set up sleeping quarters, organized their food and water, checked their climbing equipment, and placed their packs where they could be reached quickly in the morning.

Oshin set his lock-picking stand beside the equipment cases.

VW stared at it.

“You really brought that thing all the way from New York.”

Oshin looked at him.

“I told you.”

“Told me what?”

“A lock is a lock.”

VW shook his head.

“You’re impossible.”

Oshin smiled and returned to the notebook.

As evening settled over Mesa Verde, he spread the map across the small table inside the camper.

The drawing showed the ancient trail.

Symbols marked the route.

But the X on the map was only a guess.

Oshin traced the line with his finger.

“The real path isn’t marked here.”

“Then where is it?”

Oshin turned the page.

“Here.”

The next page contained drawings of petroglyphs.

VW leaned closer.

“These?”

“Yes.”

“What are they?”

“Directions.”

Outside, the last sunlight disappeared from the cliffs.

Back in New York, the men watching the bank were still waiting for Oshin to return for the turquoise idol.

They believed the idol was the only way to reach the treasure.

They were wrong.

Oshin had already figured out another way.

Tomorrow, he would follow the ancient markings into the cliffs and search for a lock that had not been opened in thousands of years.

And if he was right about the pattern carved into the idol’s toes, he would not need the key at all