I knew it was what I was looking for the minute I saw it. It was the lost painting by some famous painter. The wind blew enough to stir up the sand. I moved closer to look, shielding my face. I wiped the grime off the face, but was pretty sure that was it. My benefactor told me the name, but I quit paying attention to anything he said except what he would pay me. Somebody’s Face on the rock. It didn’t look so hot to me, but I’m not what one would call a connoisseur of art. Who was I to argue with the experts? My job was to deliver it and get paid.
It was stuck in the sand, but after digging and grunting, I broke it loose. Getting it to solid ground was a chore. That thing was heavier than it looked.
What I didn’t see was the guy standing off to the side with a gun in his hand.
“Just what we have been looking for,” he said.
I sat up and took notice.
Two other men came up from behind him carrying a large box.
The first guy held the gun on me while the other two put my find in the box.
“You have been most accommodating,” the man with the gun said.
He handed me a hundred dollar bill.
“For your trouble,” he said.
They vanished as fast as they appeared. I was left to wonder what could have been.
Copyright © September 4, 2011 by Lowell Bergeron