Hondo said, “What’s down that one?” He pointed to the left fork.
Mickey said, “That’s Bob’s long trail. It winds across and west, then back. It’s about two hours.”
“More??
?? I said.
“Yes, silly. It’s the long route.” She pointed to the right hand path, “That’s the short one. It only takes an hour.”
“More?”
Mickey waved her finger at me. “You just want to make me feel good. An athletic looking man like you could ride all day. I appreciate it, but you don’t have to hold back on my account.”
Hondo said, “Yeah, don’t hold back on her account.”
I said, “Maybe we should split up, cover more area faster.”
Mickey said, “That’s a wonderful plan. I’ve been reading up on Private Dicks--” Hondo shook with silent laughter “--And you guys are smart, like Phillip Marlowe and Spenser and Travis McGee, just uncanny the way you work out what to do. Your minds are so keen, so piercing. I’m very impressed. I know you’ll find Bob, I just know it.” She teared up on the last part, but held it in.
I guess it never dawned on Mickey that the detectives she named weren’t real flesh and blood people but hey, our minds were keen. I said, “Why don’t you and Hondo take the long route and I’ll take the short one, meet you back at the cars.” Hondo tried to give me a look but he had his sunglasses on, so I acted like I didn’t notice. Mickey didn’t wait to discuss it, but hopped on her pink bike and started down the left trail. Hondo made a low noise like a dog’s warning growl, then followed her.
I leaned my head back, looked at the hard blue sky above me and smiled. It’s the little pleasures in life that are so satisfying. I eased onto my bike and started down the short trail, squirming on the seat as I went.
I’d gone maybe a hundred yards when I passed a small game trail on my left. I caught the light just right as I glanced at it and saw the faded impression of a bicycle tread. I stopped and looked at the narrow, threadlike path. It was maybe ten inches wide and curved around obstacles like a snake, slicing a pale line into the brush to disappear as it slanted behind a head-high slab of rock. I left the bike on the hiking trail and followed the faded bicycle impressions on foot. The tracks kept going as far as I could see, and the imprints were identical to my tires. I trotted back to the bike and turned it around. I rode as fast as I dared and it still took me ten minutes to catch up to Hondo and Mickey. I was so out of breath I couldn’t even whisper when I got close enough to stop them.
Mickey hopped off her bike and hurried to me, all fluttering, touching hands and worried looks. “Are you all right? Are you having any chest pains, pains down the right arm -- or is it left? Are you having any pain down either arm?” Hondo put a hand on her shoulder and she stopped.
“You find something?” He said.
I nodded between gasps. Mickey hopped right in front of me, “I know what to do!” She made the peace sign with two fingers and tapped the V on her forearm. “Does it have two syllables?” She raised three fingers and tapped them on her forearm, “Three?”
Hondo said, “I don’t think charades is what he had in mind. Let’s give him a minute to catch his breath.”
Mickey wrung her hands and bit at her lower lip and paced in tiny zigzags that always came back to me. I finally got enough air in my system to croak, “Found some tracks...on a game trail...same tread as ours.”
Mickey hopped on her bike and showered dirt like a dragster as she took off. Hondo said, “Time to go, you athletic looking son of a gun.”
Mickey passed up the game trail and we yelled at her. She skidded to a stop and pedaled back like an insane person. Her mohawk had mutated in all the wind and sweat so that it curled over to the side like Free Willy’s dorsal fin. Pink and green glitter stuck to her face like fish scales and there were snail tracks where sweat trickled through the dust on her face. Fetching. “Where is it? Where’s Bob? He’s not hurt is he?”
“I don’t know that it’s even him. Calm down and we’ll find out.” We parked our bikes behind a large bush and started down the trail. Mickey was behind me moving constantly from side to side, peeking around my shoulder on the left side for five seconds, then my right, then left, over and over. I stopped. “Mickey, calm down or I’m going to tie you to a tree.” Big tears formed in her eyes. Christ. I said, “Look, I’m sorry, but you need to be less noisy, move less on the trail. That will help us check this out faster. Can you do that?” The small head nodded, eyes big and red. A couple of pink flakes dropped off her cheek and fluttered to the ground. Mickey didn’t say a word, but moved behind Hondo to take up the end of the line. Hondo mouthed, “You big bully,” at me. I shook my head and turned to the tracks.
A hundred yards into the brush was a small side draw. A dense growth of oaks filled the bottom and several sycamores farther down indicated possible water. I caught the tiniest glimpse of yellow, like a fresh-discarded banana skin deep under the oaks. I pointed it out to Hondo and Mickey. “You see it?”
Hondo nodded and Mickey held my arm and jumped up and down, “Yesyesyes! You are so magnificent!” I got another look from Hondo.
We moved into the canyon and as we reached the bottom, the thick brush and young sapling oaks shortened our line of sight. Even so, we found a good trail that snaked around the thickest portions and moved under the big trees. The last bit of trail rounded a pile of large slabs of rock infused with marine fossils. I smelled smoke as we turned the corner and stepped into a small, neat clearing shaded by the largest oaks.
Two small brown women sat beside a fire and stared at us. From their facial expressions, you’d have thought we were a pack of man-eating lions. Mickey clung to my arm, then made a sound of alarm and pointed to a yellow bicycle leaning against a fallen log. “It’s Bob’s!”
She sprinted across the clearing and the women scrambled out of her path like frightened deer: afraid to run, afraid to stay. Mickey reached the bike and put her hands on it, alternately crying and cooing. You’d have thought it was a sacred relic.
Hondo told the aliens, “Amigos, amigos.” He pointed to us as he talked. The women relaxed a little. They were around twenty, and had reddish-blond hair, green eyes and skin the color of caramel.
As we walked closer, we could see they were unkempt, with un-brushed hair and clothes they’d worn too long without laundering. These women had been living in the woods for a while. One of them had a bandage on her head, but seemed in no pain. They wore shorts and pullover tops, with one in tennis shoes and the other wearing Mexican sandals. Hondo said to Mickey, “You have a cell phone?”
“What? Yes, yes I do.” She touched the bike one more time, then opened her purple fanny pack and took out a pink cell phone and walked to Hondo, putting it in his hand.
“It’ll be long distance,” he said.