Nevada Smith was a film starring Steve McQueen from 1966. I imagine that is where Steven Speilberg and/or George Lucas got the inspiration for the name, Indiana Jones. However, with respect to Steve McQueen and/or Harold Robbins (the author of the novel the film was based on), I would like to tell a story about him. You can consider it fan-fiction if you choose (no copyright infringement is intended or attempted). However, in some ways, i think it parallels Steve McQueen’s story.

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Nevada took on the road ahead of him. It was late afternoon and he was on his way to the house of the man who had buried the treasure. He was determined to make it by nightfall to get the secret to obtaining the treasure. He put one foot in front of the other and he distanced himself from the town. It pulled at him.

He felt a little twinge of guilt for not helping the drunk back in the town. Maybe he should have? He didn’t know. He put it out of his mind. Then he saw a man by the side of the road.  He looked worse than the drunk in town or Crazy John. He had obviously been roughed hip by some thugs and left to die. Nevada’s boots took him closer to him, closer to the man’s stench. There was dried blood on the man’s white shirt and face and light brown pants. Was he even breathing? Nevada’s boot turned him over. His eyes were closed and he had a big nose. “Hey Muster, you alive? HEY MISTER!” The corpse stirred. ‘Oh man, I do NOT want to get involved in this, I have to make it to the treasure man’s house by nightfall!’ “Come on man, get UP!” The man moaned again. He looked around and saw a building along the side of the road. “Oh man!” Nevada shouted. “Help me, help me” the man feebly murmured..

Lou called to him from the darkness. “You got to keep going. No time to help him. You ain’t got no money!” Nevada heard him. He wavered. But then he remembered the words of Crazy John. ‘Look outside yourself. Nevada thought about it. Something inside of him whispered to him that somehow, helping this man would be part of obtaining the treasure.

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“Alright, alright” Nevada said. He helped him up and put the injured man’s arm around his own shoulders. “Come on now, I need you to walk with me, lets get you to the saloon over yonder.” Nevada stepped out and the injured man tried to as well.

By the time they reached the tavern on the side of the road, the last of the light was shinning on Nevada’s boots. He set the man down on the steps. A black woman came out of the tavern with a look that could break stone. “What are you doing with that man?” “Found him over yonder in the dirt, ma’am. Someone had robbed him and beat him bad.””This aint no mission or hospital, this heres a respectable saloon.””Well here take a few dollars and let him stay a day or two to get back on his feet” Nevada said as he fished in his pockets for some cash. He found only four dollars. His last four dollars. “Heres four dollars, take care of him, I’s getting my treasure, I don’t needs it”. She grabbed the money from his hand.

He looked at the guy on the stairs once more, barely conscious. And then he set his feet to walking again.

As the stars entered and shone in the sky, Nevada crested a hill and saw the house of the treasure man. It had a light inside. He neared it. His mouth watered.

Next week: Nevada finds his treasure.

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