The Rig 3: Eye of the Hurricane (11 page)

He was about to turn away from the glass display when his eyes caught sight of a green dagger tucked away on the corner of a shelf. The entire dagger was made out of green stone; blade, hilt and shaft, all from the same piece of stone. On first sight, he thought it was turquoise, but it held a much deeper green tone than did the more aqua-colored turquoise stones set in silver very near it. “What is that?” he asked, extending a finger toward the dagger.

“That is a stone dagger,” the clerk smiled, pulling it out and placing it on the counter in front of him. “One solid piece of jade.”

“Jade?”

“Yes.”

“Is there jade around here?”

He had always associated jade with the orient. He picked it up and turned it over in his hands. Initially, it was cold like stone, but in just seconds it suddenly became too hot to touch and he dropped it on the counter.

“Burned you?”

The big Navajo chuckled. The rich sound of his voice reinforced the idea that had popped into his mind earlier.

“It doesn’t do that to everyone.”

“What the hell is it? Is it possessed?”

“You mean is it magic or does it have a spirit?”

“I don’t know. It’s just…”

Parke couldn’t find the words he wanted.

“Mysterious,” the smiling man filled in the word for him. “The man who brought it in said it had been in his family for centuries. He said it used to get hot when he touched it when he was younger, but not in a long time.”

“Why did he sell it?”

“He started drinking and needed the money.”

“He sold this for liquor money?”

“There is more confusion in demons and liquor than nearly any other thing in the world.” His plump, happy face suddenly became very solemn. “I think that’s why it became cold in his hands.”

“Why?”

“He lost his way.”

“But this could be priceless.”

“Or his granddaddy bought it in the South Pacific during World War II.”

He wasn’t sure how the South Pacific and World War II had any bearing on the origin and value of the dagger, but since it was only seventy-five dollars, it seemed likely that the owner of the trading post didn’t believe that it was nearly as valuable as the original owner had. Yet still he had pawned it to him for a bottle. He probably only got twenty-five or thirty bucks for the pawn.

Without another word, Parke purchased the dagger, which the smiling proprietor slipped into a leather, beaded scabbard that he threw in with the deal. Parke suddenly felt relief as he stepped back out into the gentle breeze which came flowing from Chuska peak. Rather than the tension and racing heart from before, it had all transformed into a feeling of peace. However, there was also a sense of disappointment that he was getting into the car and leaving. In fact, his heart was genuinely sick as though he was about to be leaving home.

“What the hell did you buy?”

His peace was quickly shattered.
She has an angry spirit
. He fought to hold back the laughter which suddenly wished to free itself from his chest.

The Jade Dagger

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About the Author:

Steve Rollins
enjoys hiking and snorkeling and beer, but not necessarily in that order. He loves to travel and spends most of his free time doing just that. Presently, he lives in Las Vegas, Nevada because he likes to gamble, too
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www.steverollins-author.com
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