The Rules of Gold

The sound of a hawk screeched over our heads as if to give a warning to me and Cayden. We rode on horseback and the terrain was unforgiving. The sun beat down with oppression. Steep mountains, jagged dolomite. Red earth, hot like the blood of desire and ambition. The dust from the hooves clouded behind us as we strolled along.

“How much farther you suppose we got?” I asked from under my dusty brown hat that barely sheltered me from the heat. I fiddled with the blade on my belt to pass the time.

“Just up ahead,” the answer came from between Cayden’s teeth as he chewed his tobacco. Not having a hat to shelter himself from the sun, he repeatedly poured water on his head from a canteen. “I reckon we’ll be there before sundown,” he added with a spit.

“Sure hope so. These mountains is treacherous. And this heat—”

“Now don’t you keep up about the heat,” he cut in. “you been bitchin’ ever since we got off the trail back there.”

I shut my mouth and didn’t give a reply, even though I knew he had it wrong. I was tired and didn’t want to anger the man who was leading me to find gold. Those mountains were notorious for making plenty a man rich during the goldrush. But there were too many places to look, and many spots were abandoned.

Cayden heard about one cave in particular that the miners gave up on after not finding anything. He had heard that, given certain geographical and topographical and rumor-graphical reasons, that they gave up just before hitting it big. He knew all the science. Or maybe he was just sure of himself. Either way, I was willing to take the risk.

“Ya know, Asher,” he leaned with a swagger and nodded toward a specific ridge. “That’s the spot my daddy spent years diggin’ only to have a man come along at the end, stab him in the back, and take the loot.”

I felt the bristle of my mustache tickle my lip as I scrunched my nose from hearing that.

“Yup,” he added. “I tell ya what, if a man tried that on me, well I’d sooner turn my pick on him. Can’t turn your back on no one up in these hills.”

I wondered if that was a warning or a simple statement of fact. I had no intention on crossing him. There was too much to lose. Not with a wife and two kids at home, no sir. But financial troubles had a way of bringing out the evil in people. After being spared from the horrors of the great war that ended only just over a decade prior, the 1930’s were met with another kind of hardship.

Financial collapse—Great Depression: in capital letters, underlined in red—whatever you wanna call it, times were tough.

Greed in the hearts of some men who, rather than seeing that we were all in dire straights and needed to cooperate, would only throw coals into the furnace. Which one Cayden was, well, I wasn’t so sure about that.

As a family man, I made it my fundamental guiding star to always do the right thing and to never do anything that would jeopardise it.

Do unto others; the golden rule; moral or civic duty, whatever you want to call it.

A man with everything to lose is bound by such things.

What was Cayden bound by? I wasn’t so sure of that either.

I recalled what he said before we left about the nature of his circumstance. We were sitting in a pub just on the fringe of the wilderness when he told me about his recent run in with the law.

We traded poverty stories.

I told him about being laid off at the nearby cattle ranch, and he was telling me about digging ditches in a chain gang of prisoners along the highway.

He was a hardened criminal. But what he really wanted was to have a garden to till rather than a ditch along the highway. He felt he paid his dues, so when the guards weren’t looking, he slipped away, hid under a bridge, and made his way into town along the river.

Never asked him what he was in for. Guess that information might’ve come in handy.

He told me over beers that there was gold somewhere in the Havilah mountain. “Bdellium resin and the onyx stone.” I wasn’t sure if it was fact or fiction, but he seemed sure of it.

He heard about it from a fellow prisoner and when he located the sight, he would finally be free. He could be a tiller of the ground, rather than a wanderer on it.

We rounded the same ridge he pointed out and came to a gully that contained a small stream. It was a place where miners used to pan, but there was little chance of finding anything there. We stopped to have a drink and water the horses. I kept my eyes open for anything that glistened in the sunlight.

My boots were off the moment I leaned down by the stream.

Cayden splashed water on his face, filled his canteen, and caught his breath before he spoke.

“Just over there,” he nodded. He liked to point with his face, head, shoulder, anything but his hand. “That’s where she’ll be. Gather your strength now, cuz we may have some diggin’ ahead of us.”

He splashed water in his face and ran it through his hair a few more times.

I did the same. I wasn’t sure what would be in store. Wandering into a cave, to find, God knows what, was something that made a knot form in my throat.

Another hawk gave a caw of warning, and I heard the faint sound of a rattle in the low-lying bushes near by. A slithering hunter was likely being stalked by another hunter in the sky.

After splashing water on my face, I put my boots back on. I wanted to be ready to kick dust when Cayden gave the orders. That way he won’t accuse me of being weak and complaining about the heat, or the dust, or the snakes in the rocks.

The spot was located at a crevice that was carved out and excavated long ago and abandoned shortly after. There was a makeshift rail with tracks to carry out rocks and dirt. We set off into the mouth of the cave. My boots were pinching my feet in my sweaty socks.

Cayden led the way, holding a lantern in one hand and a pickaxe in the other. I carried the shovel. The farther the tracks went, the further we got from the surface world.

We crept slowly into the darkness as the darkness crept slowly into us both.

It felt like we were descending into the heart of the earth where its rotation is different. Each step took us further from what it means to be human.

Man is not made to dwell underground.

The smell of kerosene, sweat and greed stung my nostrils. It wasn’t long before we got to the end of the line. Maybe the perception of time is different at the center of the earth. Like how the center of a wheel spins faster than the outer edge.

“This is as far as they got,” Cayden’s voice was as dry as the rocks.

He set the lantern down, inspecting the wall of granite.

“From what I can tell,” he had the confidence of an expert, “it should only be about a few feet beyond this point.

The echoes of the pickaxe and the crunching of the rocks resounded through the tunnel as we chopped away. And just as time goes faster at the center of the earth, so does fatigue.

Kerosine, sweat, greed.

Rocks, shovels, gold.

We chopped away until we heard a metallic ping. We both paused for a second and looked at each other before the charge of electricity buzzed and our strength was renewed.

The sound of blood rushing into my ears as the rocks cracked, and the taste of dust that flew from each stab of the shovel enveloped me.

Another metallic ping.

The crumbling rocks sounded to me like the rattle of a snake.

I thought of Cayden’s words, ‘don’t turn your back on no one up in these hills . . . if someone tried that, I’d turn the pick on him.’

The rocks fell away as my thoughts ran wild.

What if he tries to kill me?

And take the gold.

The blood in my veins stung like venom. What if he suspects me of the same greed his father had to deal with? I would never do such a thing. I got a wife. And two kids. All I want is to put a little food on the table. What does he want?

Another metallic ping rang through our chamber of shadows.

Kerosine and greed.

It makes one lightheaded in closed quarters.

My heart became faint and my vision floated purple spots all around. As if the fluid in my eyes were swirling with snake venom. After a few long blinks, the next thing I knew, I opened my eyes to the sunlight.

I was laying on the ground outside the cave staring up at the sky.

A hawk swirled overhead.

Cayden was rummaging around the saddlebags of the horse. The pick was slung over one shoulder. He put it down, fumbling with what looked like rocks. Shiney rocks.

Did he find the gold?

Was he planning to take it and leave me here to die?

I jumped onto my feet, clicking the snap on the holster of my knife.

When he heard me moving around, he turned to face me. Alarm crossed his face and his hand went to the pick.

“What’re you doin’ Asher?”

“You just gonna leave me here an’ take the gold?” I said, trembling as the adrenaline coursed through me. My eyes swirled with purple spots.

“No, I just—”

“Hold it,” I kept my grip on the blade as he lifted the pick.

“You passed out. I dragged you outta there.”

I didn’t hear him from the war drums beating in my ears. His word from earlier flashed through my mind; what he said about turning the pick on a man over a chunk of gold.

“Drop it!” I demanded.

“Don’t do anything stupid, Asher.”

I blinked at him as if that’s all I had to say. The way I saw it, he was the one trying to cross me. Not the other way around.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he tightened his grip on the pick. “I’m just some escaped fugitive, aint no one gonna miss me. Well, I got news for you, pal. Ain’t no one gonna stick me in the back.” he had a hardened look in his eye.

My heart pounded and the venom tingled in my veins. His voice sounded as if we were still in the tunnel. The sound of the rattler was shaking in my bones as I trembled. My hand was jittery and my legs vibrated.

I didn’t want any trouble. I just wanted to make it out alive. I’m a family man. Wife. Kids. But out here with the hawks and the rattlesnakes, a man turns into something else.

Survival of the fittest.

I could see it in his eyes.

We both knew there was no other move left for either of us.

“Raaahh,” he yelled, charging at me with the pick.

Instant reflex kicked in, and the war drums pounded.

As he swooped in with a caw, I coiled around myself, dodging his attack.

The pulse pounded in my ears as the dust from our boots scuffled all around. Red earth. Hot blood of greed and ambition. These mountains are unforgiving, and the jagged rocks can make a murderer of an average man.

The sun was oppressive and my rage burned like the dolomite.

Surface time is apparently the same as underground time.

Before I knew what had happened, it was over. There I stood, blood glistening on the tip of the blade as the dust settled.

An escaped fugitive that no one would apparently miss.

A man who would be forgotten by everyone.

Everyone but me.

When it was all said and done, I saddled my horse. That’s when I noticed he had placed some gold in both our sacks. So much for the golden rule. That’s the thing about gold. It changes the rules.

The sound of a hawk screeched over my head as I rode away.

Two go in. Only one comes out.

Only you don’t come out the same person.