Hate and Love: The Thin Line...Chapter Eight

The sun hid behind the heavy green leaves as it considered sunset,
still a couple of hours away. The reprieve from the sun was welcome to
Talia as she pulled the soiled bandana from the waistband of her
shorts. Wiping the sweat and dirt from her face and arms for about the
hundredth time that day, the bandana showed the toil of her labors. She
stuffed the bandana in her pocket and allowed herself to exhale slowly,
proving her job was done for the day. The droning buzz of mosquitoes no
longer irritated her, as it had for the past four days. She was feeling
immune to the heat, the sound, the intrusion of the ever present layer
of thin dirt that clogged her pores and filled her nostrils. She set
down the shovel on the ground near her feet and was finally satisfied
that the last shovel full of dirt had been replaced. The fact that it
hadn't given up any gems as the consolation prize was a bit rankling,
but there were nine more gardens to deal with and one must be the place
Martin buried the diamonds.


Greg moved from behind a screen of foliage at the far end of
the garden and threw his shovel the length of the path in frustration.
Talia winced as it thudded against the dense ground. Her aching muscles
smarted from the implied onslaught of emotion from him. She looked at
the garden, reconstructed. Its large hibiscus flowers and other
flowering plants made the curved garden appear to be on fragrant
display. A small stream of salt water from the beach only twenty yards
away flowed downhill into another small stream beyond the garden. It
was a lovely spot and Talia reached down to place a small bronze statue
back at the base of one of the trees; one of dozens in this spot that
Martin called
Palace of Glacial Creatures. The creatures were lions, giraffes,
tigers, elephants, and some type of antelope creature. They had
searched each statue, under them inside them, around them and there was
nothing. Greg watched her put the statue down and muttered something
under his breath. Talia turned and walked toward the beach. She didn't
want to hear anything from him at this moment in time.


Stepping out of the screen of the jungle, the sun was still
strong as it hung off the horizon. She swatted at some bugs that found
her and went over to the beach chair nearby. She reached for her towel
and swimsuit and then thought better of it. Talia dropped to the sand
on her back and covered her eyes with her forearm. Swimming meant she
would have to walk those steps and it wasn't in her right then. Sinking
into the sand, she let the hot sand heat her aching muscles. The sweat
that had become her constant companion felt intrusive and overbearing.



The sound of the waves seemed far off as she stretched out,
wondering what she was doing there for yet another time. The focus of
finding the diamonds suddenly seemed immaterial to her. Greg had become
more and more quiet as the days went on, subdued by sheer exhaustion
and frustration at not reaching their goal. They fell into bed each
night and slept until sunrise only to begin again. Talia felt like
taking the next plane back to the states. They were looking through a
haystack for something less than the width and depth of a needle at
this point and Talia's instinct told her they were going about it
wrong.


The heat suddenly was making her feel lightheaded and she sat
up. The shoreline was only about ten yards away and she stood up,
feeling like her legs were rubbery and not attached to her body. She
took off her tee shirt and bra and slipped out of her shorts as she
headed to the water, leaving a trail of clothes behind her. She didn't
give a care about who saw her heading to the water and as her eyes
scanned the horizon, she knew there was no one out there anyway. It was
paradise alright, with no relief in sight.


The cold ocean water hit her body with a shock and she sunk
under the waves and swam out about twenty-five feet from shore. Turning
on her back she stared up at the crystal clear sky and waited for the
cold water to catch up to the heat deep within her body and overcome
the depth of it. Floating in the vastness of the space she was in, it
suddenly felt as if she were free of this day, this week, this burden
that had become a futile search.


She heard the splash from the shore and knew that Greg was
coming to join her. Slowly treading water she watched him move toward
her and she could tell he was feeling about the same as she was at this
moment. Sidling up beside her the two floated next to each other in the
hot sun and cold water, not needing to speak. He reached for her hand
and she let him take it, even though she wasn't feeling very much like
a companion to him.


"I know they are here, Talia. I can feel it. Don't give up on
this." His voice was tired and Talia suspected that it was a pep talk
for his own benefit as well. Greg's words sounded patronizing to her
and the quiet she had been enjoying was gone, merely from the few words
he spoke.


Talia pulled him underwater and when he came up for air
sputtering she splashed him. There was no playfulness in the action.
"You are a masochist and you're trying to drag me into this hell for
some reason that I fail to see anymore. I'm starting to think that you
are crazier than I thought you were.? Her eyes blazed with a sudden
spark of anger that she didn't realize was so close to the surface. She
started to swim away from him and he caught up with her, pulling her
under in reply as she had.


"You knew what you were in for when we talked about it. You
agreed to come here. A little hard work and you are ready to bail. I
underestimated you." Their words were suddenly very loud and she felt
as if they were engulfed by the tropical air. He stared at her for a
long moment as the two bobbed just on the surface. Greg turned and
started to swim to the shore.


Talia followed him, feeling the anger continue to rise now
from his words that she suspected were a cruel taste of reverse
psychology. Greg hesitated when he could stand up in the water and when
Talia reached him he was ready for an argument. She moved toward the
shore where she could stand and squinted at him as the Philippine
sunset glowed over his shoulder. They glowered at one another for a few
long minutes as they each constructed their own silent words in their
minds.


"I'm tired Greg. I think you have no clue where we need to be
looking and we might as well be digging this beach up with a teaspoon
at the rate we're going. I don't know how you came to the conclusion
that the gardens hold the key, but I am starting to doubt your
judgement in a major way." Spitting the words at him, she didn't really
care if he was offended by them. She waited for his
reply.


Greg looked around at the shore for a few seconds and then
ran his hand over his face.
"Martin wrote the letters to his mother. He talked about his secret
security being at his haven. Let's go back to the house and look at
them. Maybe there is a meaning there that you see as different. I was
sure it was the gardens. I don't want to admit I was wrong. I have to
believe that I'm right." He was being very defensive. Talia didn't
blame him, but this was getting out of hand. She turned her back to him
and wanted him to know in no uncertain terms that his words were not
making her feel any better. She could feel him behind her and knew he
wouldn't take her silence for an answer. The words were just below the
surface for them both and Talia felt tears of frustration start to well
up in her eyes.


Greg moved closer to her and put his hand on her shoulder. He
didn't try to make her turn around, he just stood there in the water
with his hand resting there. Talia bit her tongue and held the words in
check that she was thinking. They were both tired and angry. Words
would only make this all worse. Shrugging roughly to show him her
displeasure at his silent gesture, Greg removed his hand and she felt
an emptiness in the space where it had been. This was becoming such a
contradiction of emotions for her, this place and him and their
mission.


They stood there in the water as the waves moved past them
and then Talia felt Greg move closer to her. When he whispered in her
ear, she was surprised by the quietness of his voice.


"There's something that you need to know, Talia. I'm not sure
that you are aware of it." He moved his body closer without touching
her, but she knew he was as close as he could be.


"What?" The words came out impatiently.


Greg reached and put his hands underwater at her waist from
behind her. "You're not wearing anything."


Talia closed her eyes and let her chin fall to her chest as
she shook her head. The typical way to change the subject. This wasn't
the first time he had defused the situation in this manner. She turned
to face him and his arms went around her and pulled her closer, the
waves gently rocking the two of them in the water then.


Greg gave her a tired smile. Talia looked at his sunburned
face, tiny rivulets of water running down the sides of his head and
dripping from his chin. She knew he was at a loss about all of this as
much as she was at the moment. Moving up on her tiptoes she kissed him
softly on his lips. The taste of salt water was the flavor of the kiss
and it didn't stop him from returning the movement tenderly and then
with more urgency. The two stood in the water kissing until they found
themselves slowly stepping back to the shore, understanding that the
day's work was forgotten and the words had been silenced momentarily.




The sun was nearly below the horizon as Talia put her clothes back on
and headed to the tree house. Greg had opted for a moonlight swim and
she said she'd go back and start making some dinner for the two of
them. The evening air was still balmy and as she approached the shadowy
path her eyes fell to the garden that they had excavated earlier. She
failed to see the spade that Greg had thrown across the path earlier
and her foot just caught the crook of it as she walked by unaware that
it was laying there. She stumbled and caught herself as she fell to her
knees, mumbling under her breath.


As she started to right herself, her eyes fell to the large
tree ahead of her. The setting sun behind her caught a small reflection
in something within a knot in the tree at about waist height. She stood
up and kept her eye on the spot. Thinking that perhaps it was an
illusion, she moved close to the knot and gasped when she realized what
had glimmered from the edge of the knob sticking out of the tree. A
small bronze box about the width of a pill bottle was imbedded there,
only the edge emerging from the rotting area. She reached to touch it
and with little effort, pulled it from the sheltered spot. Holding it
in her hand she felt her pulse race and her breath hang deep in her
chest. The small bronze box had two exquisite diamonds mounted side by
side on the cover. It was clear that the diamonds were at least two
carats each and she knew that they had found part of their treasure.
She opened the lid of the box and inside was a brass tag with a
mysterious symbol on it. Picking the coin like piece of metal out of
the box, she turned it over and etched in fine script were the words,
?Property of Martin Vasquez?.
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