A Rock and A Broke Place

“So,” began the payphone’s exacerbated voice, “how much is it this time?”

Lyn suppressed a sigh and turned her gaze to the incandescent pink sky above. “That’s not why I called June.”

“Oh, my bad, it’s just that the only time you ever call is when you need me to bail you out of some problem you walked yourself into.” Lyn could feel another lecture coming on. She reached into her pocket and slid the few remaining coins across her fingers, counting them as they fell.

The last dollar-fifty to my name... “Can we speed this along, these are my last quarters,” replied Lyn as she used every shred of willpower not to rise to the argument her sister wanted. Perhaps too curt.

“So it is about money! For Christ-sake Lyn, how have you spent Dad’s insurance pay-out already?”

Definitely way too curt. Lyn pushed another quarter into the slot. “I haven’t spent it all; my wallet got stolen and I couldn’t cancel my card in time-“

“You’ve been a terrible liar your whole life.” Here we go. June’s tone, which at the start of this phone call had been simply simmering with annoyance; was now building to what would surely be another boiling-hot screaming match. “I still can't believe you had the audacity to go gallivanting from state to state on the money Mom could have used for medical bills- now you’re calling for a hand-out?”

“It’s for my art, June,” said Lyn as she lost her composure, snapping more than she knew she should have. “Dad would have wanted me to-“

“Oh cut the crap, Lyn. He didn’t give his little sketch book just for your art- it was for you to preserve the things that matter. Something to pass on, remember?” A weight began to build on Lyn’s chest. Just breathe. “He would have wanted you to help Mom- to help me.” Lyn stayed silent. It was best to let June burn herself out, but Lyn wasn’t sure she had enough change to outlast the fire. “God, you’ve always been so recklessly impulsive. Act first, think never, right? ‘It’s okay, Mom, Dad, June- they’ll bail me out’. Such a colossal fuck up,” continued June, not pausing for breath. “You fucked up basic, you fucked up that job I had to beg to get you, and now you’ve fucked up your latest little nomadic van-life bullsh-“

Lyn slammed the earpiece down. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Striding across the dirt to where her van was parked, she wrenched the sliding door across and stood aside as a giddy golden retriever bounded out. As Ike perused left and right for the optimal location to empty his bladder, Lyn reached in and retrieved the essentials- a pack of smokes, a pencil, and Dad’s old A5 black notebook. Turning to the back page containing Dad’s eagle feather and a (long) list numbers and addresses of acquaintances turned creditors, Lyn put a large X next to June’s entry. She then shoved her provisions into the pockets of her camos, tied her boots and set off for the peak. Hope I’m not too late for the sunrise.

The tribulations of the outside world -debt, family, the future; none of these vexations could take hold of Lyn’s thoughts out here. A flock of birds serenaded her with their morning choir from above. Golden sunbeams split themselves through the trees, pine branches undisturbed by the wind’s absence. To her left rose a sheer face of blonde rock, and to her right a woodland sloped down. Down between the trees, Lyn could hear the faint yet distinct, gentle sound of water lapping against something. A reservoir, perhaps? The path before her stretched on, flanked either side by century-old sentries of red and brown, before it disappeared into a sharp left beneath a tapestry of peach sky. Ike ran ahead, the earth spitting geysers as his paws scrambled over the dirt, before he skidded and became rigid. Petrified by some invisible barrier, he approached a scruff of hair latched around the base of a tree, his spry steps replaced with tentative apprehension. A few sniffs followed a whine as he backed away from the tree, tucked his tail and glanced back for reassurance.

Upon closer inspection, the source of Ike’s dismay revealed itself. Cougar fur. One of Dad’s aphorisms drifted across Lyn’s thoughts; ‘Nature gives out what it gets. Show it respect, and you will receive the same’. What used to be an eye-rolling self-made proverb suddenly found some use. Not wanting to encroach upon the home of a majestic resident, Lyn crouched down and comforted her shaking companion with a flurry of head-scratches. “Come on, you” began Lyn, giggling as she fought off some of Ike’s retaliatory licks. “We can still catch most of the sunrise down by the water.”

The retriever's inclination for swimming meant that Lyn was alone until she reached the lake. Lyn released a long exhale. Her heartbeat slowed, and she stood in quiet awe of the scene before her. Blue began to seep its way into the expanse of pink, and the wisps of cloud above her were cracked, their boundaries lava-like, ablaze in a conflagration of yellows and oranges. Above the opposite hill lined with pine sat a timid sun, peering over the crest and bathing the land beneath in stilled gold. The lake beneath shimmered, the warm shades reflected from above belying the water’s surely juxtaposing iciness. The temperature made no noticeable difference to Ike, who had come racing out of the water; his head cocked to the side, with a branch twice his length trailing behind him. He stopped at Lyn’s feet, his bouncing and rearing up on to his hind legs a clear indication that he wanted it thrown back out onto the lake.

“Alright, but are you actually gonna let me-” Lyn asked as she reached out toward the retriever. Ike let out a playful growl and backed away as Lyn took hold of the stick, “-yeah okay, thought so.” Ike dug in his back legs, wrenching his head left and right in order to break his human’s grasp on the newfound artifact. Lyn let go without warning and caused Ike to stumble, before he mounted a quick recovery and ran off in triumph having retained his undefeated tug-of-war streak. A smile edged its way into Lyn’s visage at the sight of the pure, childlike joy that filled each step her golden companion took. He found a spot he liked, plopped down and tore apart his coveted piece of wood. Chippings burst like shrapnel from his jaws as Ike spat and flung them in indiscriminate directions.

With Ike’s attention occupied entirely upon destruction, Lyn too found a place to perch herself and withdrew her pencil and sketchbook. She flipped past Dad’s previous entries; past the family portraits annotated with Mom’s calligraphy, past her own additions- past Dad’s final note to her. Opening on a blank page, Lyn glanced up and took in the vista; a prone golden retriever against a shimmering veil that mirrored the sky above. She began marking the outlines, perspective distances and glanced up one more time to memorise the sun and the shape of the hill it hung over. Having committed the scene to her memory, Lyn lost herself in compiling a prototype.

Ike barked, but couldn’t draw Lyn from her trance. Tunnel vision had set in, and no world existed beyond her notebook. Another bark, followed by the sound of Ike hurling himself into the water. He kept barking as he swam, but it was the abrupt quiet that drew Lyn’s eyes from the page. Ike was swimming back, dragging something that seemed to bob up and down. He was still paddling back when Lyn recognised the thing that Ike had acquired- a duffel bag. She dropped the black book and hurried to assist Ike with his baggage. It seemed Ike’s curiosity matched Lyn’s as he offered no resistance when she took the bag from his jaws. Not particularly heavy, she mused. With Ike in tow, Lyn turned, took the bag to a patch of grass and dropped it on the floor. Squatting down, she noticed a blinking light attached to a buoy. GPS maybe? Lyn fiddled with the zip. I wonder what we’ve got here. She wrenched the zip down, and regret turned her blood to ice.

Several wrapped stacks of one-hundred dollar bills stared up at her. Assuming they were all the same thickness, Lyn counted that there must be at least $20,000.

Lyn zipped the bag shut. She closed her eyes. Fuck. She took a deep breath. Fuck fuck fuck.

She buried her hands in her armpits to quell their shakes. No one just throws away twenty grand. Fear turned to panic before an idea quickly formed in her head.

I could do so much with this.

Her eyes opened. Whatever the blinking light was, Lyn tore it from the bag, held Ike by the collar and hurled it into the lake. Instinct commanded the retriever to pursue. “No damn it, not the time Ike,” Lyn growled as she felt a sharp tug from the collar. Before she could talk herself out of it, Lyn threw the bag over her shoulder, gently pulled on Ike’s collar, and dropped into a sprint towards the way she had come.

With Ike close on her heels, Lyn’s thoughts matched the pace of her thundering heartbeats. At first she pondered handing the bag over to the police. Would they believe her? What if she got pulled over by the wrong office on the wrong day? ‘Honestly, officer, I just found it; it’s not mine’- yeah sure.

But it’s twenty-thousand dollars.

Ideas burst open like germinating seeds as she thought of the possibilities that were now open. I could pay off Mom’s med bills. I could open a gallery. God, I could just buy a boat and disappear into the blue horizon. Terror then made her wonder who the bag might have belonged to. She channelled that fear and fuelled it into her downhill flight back to her van. That was definitely a tracker. Someone’s looking for this. No one just leaves something this precious-

Lyn skidded to a halt, kicking up gravel and dust as her boots scratched the earth.

She patted herself down over and over in a frantic frenzy, emptying out pockets for the third and fourth time. In her haste, Lyn had left her book- Dad’s book, by the lake. The heirloom contained their combined artwork, Mom’s beautiful Kanji, and, most terrifyingly of all; June and Mom’s address.

No.

No no NO goddamnit!

Ike had put in considerable effort to match his owner’s pace, but it was clear from the excessive panting he was now exhausted, and would lag behind on the journey back. Lyn crouched down, put her face to his, and ordered him to stay put. “I’ll be back soon, I promise. Stay,” she whispered, “stay, stay.” Ike whimpered, but did as he was told and slumped to the ground. Turning on her heels, Lyn doubled back on herself with as much speed as she could muster, ignoring the growing burning in her lungs.

It had barely been a minute when she turned a corner and felt her blood freeze once more. A man stood square in the middle of the trail, blocking her path. One hand rested upon a holster that no doubt contained a firearm, and with his left he waved a small black notebook from side to side. Dark curls fell to his shoulders, and fire-red stubble partially concealed a sharp jaw. In normal circumstances, Lyn would have considered him to be fairly attractive, yet the wry smile pooling across his face dissipated any possible comeliness. “I think you got ‘summat of mine there, love,” he said, revealing a set of coffee stained teeth. “Fancy a trade?” Lyn noticed the grip tighten in his right hand.

Shit.