The heavy car rolled down the miles of rolling highway with ease. Under oaks, up over foothills, through vineyards, and settled into a wide coastal valley. Not quite the coast, but not quite the foothills anymore. Those areas of California’s north coast hold so much promise.
The piece sat in the cupholder. It was a dull heavy metal triangle with notches on one side, and markings scratched into both sides. His uncle had a quirk for puzzles. Either he had hoped to think of himself as a modern Indiana Jones, or he hoped for some adventure out of this world. On one side was a date 2, and on the other was Lauren’s cafe. It was found with his uncle’s things, in a metal box with a bottle of wine. He’d had the box with him for a year, suspicious it was another of his uncle’s puzzles. It wasn’t until 2 weeks ago, that he randomly googled the name of the winery in Anderson Valley from the bottle and “Lauren’s” and found a cafe in Boonville by that name. It sort of made sense and was worth a try. If nothing else, it was a drive up north, some time on the coast, and playing another of his uncle’s games. After the dog-eared map his uncle gave him in the Azores led to a treasure left behind years earlier, he liked to think this one would too.
The big car rolled into town, and he nosed it into one of the dirt parking spots in front of Lauren’s cafe, just as the navigation announced “ you have arrived.” They stepped out. It was Fall and just before noon that Saturday morning. It was clear and cool, though it felt like it would warm up by mid-day. The wine season was over so there were only a handful of cars along the street, with a few powering by headed out to the coast. Mendocino is a favorite on that highway. They walked into the restaurant that was long and wide. This being a small, close-knit town that was used to celebrating, the long wide restaurant looked like the kind of place that would easily push all the tables to the side, bring in a band and pack the place with locals and tourists until well into the night. The waitress greeted them, “two for lunch?” And pointed with menus towards a table along the wall for two. They sat down. Looking at the menu, he ordered a beer to push away the last repercussions of too much wine the night before and ordered a Reuben sandwich. Setting the clue on the table with a thud, he looked around, what next? There was a stage in the front, perfect for local bands to sing covers of Eagles songs. There were Halloween decorations up early and posters advertising the harvest festival that had been the weekend before.
There was unusual artwork on the walls. Large shadow box pieces that looked like they had been made out of things collected at local yard sales. The one on the wall in front of them had a chess theme. It was a shadowbox hung on the wall, with a chessboard as the back panel. An oversized King sat on the edge of the box, facing a midsize bishop of the opposite color. On the board were glued chess pieces that made it all look like it was captured mid-game, though it didn’t look quite like a real game. Just pieces glued in. He thought too bad, that was an opportunity to capture some classic chess move. That’s just lazy to not have found one to model and put the time into arranging the pieces. His beer came.
Before his sandwich came he wanted to wash his hands, getting up walking to the back of the restaurant he looked around. Why had his uncle sent him here? What did a heavy metal triangle have to do with anything? Looking around, there were more tables that based on their vinyl looked like they were from the ’80s. And more art. Every 10 feet or so was another shadow box with more antiques and stuff glued into them. Some had themes, like chess, or wine and corkscrews, decks of cards, silverware, or clocks. But nothing with shapes, or even metal that looked the same as what he was holding.
Was this a wild goose chase? Probably not, the piece and Lauren’s cafe name lined up. And the map in the Azores worked. That one was complicated. The clues were all there, you just had to line them up. Who does things like that he thought? He walked back to the table now where his sandwich was waiting for him. Something would show up.
Finishing his sandwich, he took the piece and wandered around the room while he waited for the check. It had to be the art. They looked like puzzles themselves and his uncle would have been drawn to them. He shook the piece, was there anything loose inside it, or something more to it? Nothing. It did look like it was taken from something else. Wandering to the back of the room where a large dark shadow box hung over a booth. He sat down and slid close to the art. This one was all metal. But different kinds of metal, all assembled into something that resembled a jewelry box. A patchwork metal, jewelry box. It looked solid, and it also looked big enough to be hollow, like there was something in it. Like a treasure box. Leaning in, he realized that because the table was so dark, he hadn’t noticed that each corner of the box had been removed. Leaving ragged edges. That was it, the piece was one of the corners. He held the piece up to the closest corner and it was a match. Holding the piece there, he noticed that now the number 2 on the piece he had lined up with a 0 on the box. 20. Moving the piece around it fit on every corner, and each corner had a new corresponding number, 1,2, and 3. All together it was 20, 21, 22, and 23. 21! The shadow box of cards. Walking back to that installation he noticed all the cards were fanned out into different winning hands. A full house, a straight, a royal flush, and there it was 21. An Ace of hearts and a King of Clubs. He’d seen a King of Clubs before in his uncle’s game. This was it. Reaching up, he pulled gently at the cards. They were glued in place. No, the King was glued in place, and it was holding up the Ace. He gently tugged on the Ace, and it slid out. Turning it over, they’re very tightly taped to the back was a small sealed envelope. Wow, it really was a puzzle. He tucked the Ace back in and took the envelope back to the table. He ordered another beer. This was getting interesting.
Gently sliding his knife under the lip of the envelope he pulled it open. Sliding out the folded contents was a small photo of himself with his uncle from years ago, a tightly folded $50 bill, and a small note. “Thank you for playing my game again. The $50 was because there needs to be treasure, but the real treasure is that we both share this memory now. April 2004 “
Writing my way out of this 