Mountain of Secrets

Round 1 - NYC Midnight Flash Fiction Contest 
Didn't place, but moved onto next round

Prompts given:

Genre: Action/Adventure
Location: Sightseeing bus
​Object: Gravestone

Squished between my two best friends, I contemplated pouring the melting margherita over my head. I wish I could have blamed the alcohol for the stupid decision, but we were all drinking virgins and just wanted to play tourist in our own city.

Being all great procrastinators, we ended up with the only tour available, middle of the afternoon on the top deck of the tour bus.

Samantha held her canvas tote over her head while AJ was busy folding our pamphlets into fans.

“Not one of our smartest ideas, ladies,” I said, wiping the sweat from my forehead.

The three of us jumped in our seats as the speaker crackled and popped, a girl appearing from the narrow staircase. She tapped on the mic, too chipper for the heat we were suffering in. “Bonjour! Hello!”

“Oh, for f—"

I elbowed Sam in the ribs, stifling my own laugh.

An elderly couple across the aisle grumbled. Someone tutted from somewhere behind and the parents of five curious children sitting kitty-corner ordered them not to turn around and look at us. I wondered if they’d be even less impressed if I told them we were all in our thirties.

“I’m Becky!” the girl shouted into the mic, unperturbed.

AJ snorted. “Of course, her name is Becky.”

In an attempt to wrangle our trio of trouble in, I put my index to my lips and hushed them.

“Ladies, didn’t your mother teach you to wear a hat on hot days like today?” Becky crossed her toned arms in front of her. “Don’t make me get your father,” she continued with a sarcastic voice, laughing at her own jokes.

“Haven’t seen him since I was two,” Sam replied. “If you find him, tell him the daughter he abandoned is getting married in September.”

Poor Becky. Of all the people to tease, she chose us. But like a pro, she quickly composed herself, and moved down the aisle, leaving us be.

“Abandonment, eh? That’s new.” I shook my head, smirking.

“Well, it was either that, or tell her we were sister wives and that our husband is the same age as our father.”

The bus braked hard and we jerked forward, our hands instinctively grabbing the back of the seat in front of us.

Lurching forward onto Doctor Penfield, everyone but myself slammed back into their spot. My fingers pinched between the metal back and a man’s back, I tried to wriggle them free. Instead of coming to my aid, the girls thought the best move would be to take their phones out and snap a few photos.

Sam pointed to the carpet of hair that crept out from the arm and neck holes of the man’s tank top. “And we think we’re overheating?”

For once I was happy for Quebec’s potholes, the bus hitting a cluster and rocked the tourists back and forth, setting me free.

Becky was on a roll with her comedy routine, laughter could be heard in between the honks and shouts from impatient drivers, which is a win in my opinion. She asked for everyone to turn to a certain page in our pamphlet, pointing out where we would be walking to once the bus pulled into the parking lot.

“After the mountain of information, I give you,” she shuffled to the front of the bus again, whipping around to face her crowd. “Get it? Mountain of information? We’re on a mountain!” she squealed with delight. “Oh, I knew you’d all enjoy that!”

“It’s like the girl doesn’t feel heat,” I said, amazed how her curly hair hadn’t turned to a ball of frizz and her full face of makeup hadn’t melted off.

“Everyone got that?” she grinned.

A mix of verbal agreement and clapping of hands was all the satisfaction she needed, encouraging everyone to follow her.

“How much were these tickets?” AJ had fashioned her fan into a hat.

We were the last to disembark and dragged our feet along the pebbled walkway. The gap between us and the rest of the group grew larger and larger, until we couldn’t see them.

“Screw it,” I huffed and dropped down onto a bench. “I’ll google the mountain’s history and pay me with ice-cream.”

Unlike the bus, we had no reason to be stuck together and kept a comfortable distance from each other’s sweaty bodies.

“I swear if that’s a bell for an ice-cream truck, I’ll marry the man behind the wheel.” AJ lay flat on her back in the grass, her eyeliner smudged.

“No,” Sam whined. “He turned.” She motioned with a lazy arm and pouted.

Turning around, I spied the white and bubblegum pink truck through the trees, bumping along the winding pathway to a picnic area.

“Come on, ladies.” I rose, unsticking my dress from my thighs. “My treat.”

Opting for the shade, we slowly cooled down as we took a leisurely pace through the woods. 
Twigs snapped and past autumn leaves crunched under our sandals and ballet flats. 

“I think we zigged when we should have zagged.” AJ stopped and looked around us. 

“We can’t be too far off,” Sam replied with a tired sigh. 

Neither the birds nor city’s noise pollution broke through the branches and bushes, and we all seemed to notice at the same time, staring at one another. 

I took a step forward. “Like Sam said, we can’t—” I threw my hands out in front of me as I fell, scraping my palm on brush. 

“Shit, you okay?” Sam asked and rushed to my side. 

I rolled over and brought my knees up to inspect them. “I think so. What did I trip on? Tree root?”

AJ shook her head, kneeling a couple feet away from where I landed. She looked to Sam and me, then back down. Wiping leaves aside, she uncovered a grey rock.
​
Her eyes met ours again, and a few seconds after she whispered, “It’s a gravestone.”, the ground had begun to shake. 

---