Legend of the Lost Page #5

It's your hike from here on in.

If you want to cross the Sahara

with a loony on your coattails, I'm out.

Let me explain.

There's nothing to explain.

I like my chippies in a room.

You pig!

You're fooling nobody.

You get a crazy yen for a fella,

and come hot-footing it out here

squealing about salvation.

You're hurting me!

I'll bust you if you try that again.

She's all yours, Mr. Bonnard.

You will not leave us, Joe.

She can show you the way back.

I'm not going back.

Well, I am.

Please, let me tell you. Then you decide.

I am going to the lost city of Ophir.

It was a city that vanished

2,000 years ago.

My father found its secret in the Bible.

The city of Ophir flourished

in a part of the Sahara

when the desert was green with forests

and bright with lakes and rivers.

There's no lost city in the Sahara.

Thousands of caravans have traveled

over it for thousands of years.

And your father comes up from

the Somaliland and walks into a lost city?

Don't be so naive.

Everyone knew about ancient Troy

for thousands of years

but nobody knew where to find it.

A few years ago, a German named

Schliemann walked up and found it.

He also found a king's treasure,

and it wasn't luck.

He knew where it was.

The desert is full of bones

that went looking for treasure.

Because they didn't know where to look.

I know!

Joe, listen, what can you lose?

Look, here is the rest of your fee.

And I will give you a third of the treasure.

- You're offering me a third of a goose egg.

- No.

There is gold, silver, ivory, gems.

A pile of treasure.

He described it.

"I held rubies in my hand the size of eggs

"and emeralds

as big as the palm of my hand. "

My father wrote that,

and he was a man who never lied.

I listened too long.

Timbuktu or the Somaliland,

what's the difference?

I'll take a third of your hole in the sand.

And I guess I've got to buy you, too.

A lost city and a batty dame.

You work on her soul,

and I'll take care of the desert.

You're tired, Dita.

Why don't you go to sleep?

I can't.

He reminds me.

- Of what?

- Timbuktu. All the places I've been.

Foul places.

Tell me.

About me?

Mmm-hmm.

You wouldn't like it.

Talk.

It will comfort you.

My mother taught me only one thing.

Not to cry.

Every time I cried,

she slapped me till I stopped.

She said, "Men don't buy cry-babies. "

We lived in Algiers.

I ran away.

I never saw my mother again.

Was your father alive?

Who knows?

I went to different towns.

I met men.

The pictures stay in my head,

always the same.

Same hands,

crawling all over me like bugs.

I'd like to peel off my skin and be new.

Give me the knife.

Tears are better than a knife for cleansing.

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