The ancient 4x4 lurched and rutted over the rocky terrain of the Mexican desert.'Whatam I doing here? This isfucking crazy.'Trevor thought as trees and boulders flew by, like
pillars of ancient foreign gods, standing proud in the humid heat of the night air.Trevor knew a rational thought when he had one, and these all applied.Seven hours too late to matter.His plane had
left back to Montana and without him on it, back to the good old U.S. of A.
He tried his cell phone again uselessly…no service.“Damn it!” He spat to himself this time aloud.
Fragments of conversation filled the crowded space of the small party he rode with.Shouted communications in a foreign and ancient tongue.Trevor understood bits and pieces like
broken Morse code.They were discussing their location, disagreeing their position, and where to turn off this particular vein of the trail.Lost.Which is roughly all you could call it in any
language.A fucking GPS would be beautiful right about know, went through his mind.
He pictured his GPS back at home in his Ford Ranger, parked in his garage where it should be.Where he should be.Taking care of business.Closing the deal with the bank, and overseeing
the construction of the Bear River shopping center, his newest contract and baby of the moment.He had many babies.His business, handed down to him and his brothers through his father was in
constant demand of attention, and he was its willing slave.Handed down, those were his father’s words.Handed wasn’t the word he would have chosen, unless you put the word heavy in front of it.His
father had been a hotheaded Irishman.Who had never hesitated to let you know when you were ‘fucking up’. Which for he and his brothers in their adolescence had been a lot of the time.
He’d chosen to continue in his father’s footsteps (He liked to think so). This was his life, and he needed to control every part he could, especially now that the old man was gone.It
was all up to him now.What the hell was he doing here?His father would shit bricks if he could see him now.He tried unsuccessfully to push the reason to the back of his mind.
The cancer had been diagnosed six months ago and the chemo was only making her sicker, and it ate at him as it ate at her.It broke his heart like nothing could. His mother had been
given six months.That was why he was here, her search for a miracle.She had been through all the chemo the doctors could give her.She’d lost her hair, her appetite and probably all hope.She hadn’t
let that be known though.It just wasn’t done in their family.They weren’t quitters.The McKaid’s had an image to maintain and she would honor it to her last breath, bless her stubborn Irish
They flew into Puerto Vallerto together.She’d wanted him to take her to a clinic she’d read about and researched, it promised true cures for her cancer of a kind unavailable in the
states.She’d gone and had the detox done and everything else they could do for her.But she’d wanted more of the herbs and special leaves, which came from a tree somewhere in the Amazon to take with
her and continue at home.They had been told the medicines were at least a day’s ride from here and wouldn’t be available for tree days even so.They only had one carrier for their private clinic and
he only made the trip once a week. She’d wanted to stay and wait.Then she’d had a turn for the worse, unable to take any deeper travel into the desert.He’d offered with out complaint to stay behind
and do the additional travel necessary to attain the remedies so precious to his mother.She’d left assisted by her nurse.She’d had flown in at Trevor’s request to escort her comfortably home.He’d
been traveling in the desert for two days now.
Somewhere deep inside he knew this was a desperate grab in the dark.Some were even deeper inside he was relieved to be so far away from it all…even his work.Shit his whole life was a
country away.All of a sudden it dawned on him that he wanted this break, and because it was he told himself out of his hands instead of feeling guilty, He’d never felt so free in his life.
They were somewhere near the border of Mexico and South America.He put his spinning head back and breathed in the rush of the sweet night air, loosening the tightness of his chest
and stomach.He noticed that the size of the moon was most overwhelming, in its enormity.The desert moon was beautiful.A blessing in disguise as well, without it they wouldn’t be able to see at
all.There were no streetlights here, no road signs; no maps even to distinguish one back road trail from the other. Just a spider webbing of tangled by roads which conceivably could be maneuvered
to reach the stranded and unknown reaches of this wild raw countryside in the desert.
They were slowing down a little.The drivers of this mad caravan seemed to recognize the bushes and dunes they were passing.They were talking and gesturing excitedly towards what
appeared to be the warm glow of a light off in the distance.
“La Fleur de la casa!” Was repeated among other things in sly mocking tones and Trevor had a sense that they thought they knew things about the casa that he didn’t.They laughed and
cheered as well and he even joined them as one grabbed him round his shoulders and squeezed once with a bit of comradery that could only be formed by journey through the desert.The laughter
eventually dissipated and they all quieted down with more relaxed nerves now that they knew their trek had brought them safely to their destination.The night wind felt sensual and he let it steal
his attention for a moment.Leaning his head back he forgot himself and indulged in it.He let go of his nagging thoughts-as the wind was warm and soothing with the promise of respite.
As the breeze played with his exhausted senses it reminded him of a woman’s fingers running through his hair.Silky seductions were the whisperings of this strange romantic land (lacy
thoughts that curled themselves around his un conscious mind).Waste of fucking time.This as all of his self-motivating and berating thoughts was barked out in the voice of his father.‘Well fuck
you!’ he told the voice of his red-faced father.I think I need to get drunk.‘I’m goin’ ta have a good time tonight.I deserve it.’And with that he closed the dialog box in his mind.When he made up
his mind Trevor didn’t go back.That was his way with business and with pleasure. Trevor took both seriously and as a millionaire he knew how to make what little free time he did have count.
What his compadres didn’t know was that he knew that the Casa de La Fleur was also a desert whorehouse.
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