Altivo let out a dramatic blow of a sigh, watching a bright-eyed Miguel lead his band of misfits through the grueling Meso American jungle. Tulio sat perched atop his new steed companion. They had been trudging through the feral plantation for what felt like days. They'd encountered hungry insects, hungrier animals, rain storms, and that was just the in the span of a day. Tulio found himself to be uncomfortable much of the journey, but Miguel remained positive. Giddy even. He was thrilled that Tulio was the pushover that he was. Otherwise, he could potentially be sailing across the Atlantic Ocean in a beat up dingy. A sure death sentence but also quite boring. After all, Tulio did promise him an adventure. Miguel grasped firmly onto his oxidized sword, swiping at shrubbery and playing up the swashbuckling in his mind. There were times when Tulio found it cute. But not many. Nothing was cute in this muggy wilderness, where they could be mauled by jaguars and no would know they were ever gone.
"Miguel," Tulio spat in monotone, hardly able to see through the exhaustion clouding his head.
"What is it, Tulio!" Miguel sang back, still facing forward and swinging his blade, as if marching a parade into the great unknown.
"I think it's time to find camp."
It was beginning to get dark. Neither of the men were expert survivalists, but they were swiftly learning the importance of a warm fire and a good night's rest. They ventured forth until they found an open spot with soft, untouched grass. Exotic bugs chirped all around them. Tulio got to work building a fire while Miguel removed his shoes and rubbed his feet. Altivo flopped over into the grass and rolled around, brushing his neck across the long, cool blades. They had found their camp for the night, right under the deep sapphire, star encrusted sky.
Once they had caught their breath, they sat to feast on a bunch of bananas found previously in the day. Miguel studied the map as he ate. And when they were ready, they stretched their thin bodies along the crisp ground. Miguel folded his hands behind his head, a smile cemented across his whiskered face. His pupils dilated as he gazed up at the endless dusting of stars. They were brighter than any night sky in Spain. There was something humbling about being alone with the abstraction of the universe beyond one's own world. One man could see the sky as absolute proof of God. Another confronted with a sense of insignificance, as every being is simply an organism on a rock with no real purpose and no real protection. Some could take comfort in the presence a higher being, others see judgement, guilt, and consequence. As for Miguel, he never knew quite where he stood. He understood that he was only a man, and would never know the truth until his time came. But it didn't stop him from struggling with morality. Being called a sinner enough times can make a person wonder the impact of his or her actions. Or thoughts. At what point do you draw the line between hedonism and virtue? And would any of it really matter in the end? Despite his life as a convict, it was never his intention to hurt anyone. But he often asked himself if it was enough.
"You know what I'm gonna do with my share of the gold?" Miguel asked thoughtfully, still star gazing.
"Hmm," Tulio replied, mostly listening.
"First..." he began at length, "I'm gonna live like a king. I'm gonna wear gaudy rings and velvet coats and see the whole world. Everyone will know who I am when I arrive. Then, I'm gonna buy villas for everyone in my family, and see to it that they all have servants and will never have to work again... And then..." He thought for a moment. "I'm gonna return every peseta that I've ever stolen."
Tulio smiled to himself. Somehow, he wasn't surprised by anything he'd heard.
"You're a good guy, Miguel," Tulio admitted. Although Miguel was the reason that he was galivanting through treacherous territory looking for a fantasyland, in that moment he wasn't angry. Tulio, too, looked above to the stars. Miguel the optimist. Miguel the people pleaser. Miguel the dough-eyed dreamer. The polar opposite of himself fascinated Tulio, making him precious like the very treasure they sought after. A pressure appeared in the man's throat as an overdue conversation sat idle on his tongue. A night like tonight, secluded in nature, could almost be the right opportunity; if only Tulio had the slightest idea of how to start. If only he didn't think that a topic of this magnitude could throw their chemistry and ruin the mission at hand. If only he had fully understood the confession himself. But he hardly did. It was a foreign emotion. He had loved women his whole life, but there was something about his partner. They worked well together, possessing an almost tangible connection. Miguel made Tulio feel vivacious, young, unmarred by the traumas of his past. Even sanguine at times. Like there's more to life than status. They had a closeness that was never achieved with any woman or friend before him, free of the conventional boundaries of masculinity. He often was content with calling their relationship platonic, but recently his desires had changed. Magnified. With every job, every scam, every night spent hiding and laughing over shared experiences, Tulio wanted more. He wanted everything.
Miguel snapped out of his fantasy and glanced over to his dark-haired familiar.
"What about you Tulio, what are you gonna do with all that gold?"
The taller man arched an eyebrow, not really prepared with an answer. What would he do with dust, nuggets, bricks of gold? As part of him remained skeptical that El Dorado even existed, he'd never thought that far ahead. His eyes rested as he pondered finally acquiring the wealth that he had been pursuing for most of his life. He had an idea or two. Mostly live like a king as well. Flaunt about and show all who doubted him what fools they were. Keep ruffians like Cortez and the police at bay, turning them into sniveling peasants by comparison. Bask in success. Rule Spain.
"Prostitutes."
Miguel giggled, amused by his own childishness. Altivo rolled his eyes. Miguel should have known his friend better than to expect a serious answer. But he did know his friend quite well. Yet one follow-up question escaped from Miguel in the moment of feeling vulnerable.
"Will we still be partners when we're filthy rich?" Miguel questioned, only partly kidding.
"Miguel," Tulio started calmly, "you're someone that money can't buy." He knew that his response would delight the other man. It did. Miguel smirked and let out a gentle snort. On this night however, he would not comprehend just how much Tulio meant it.