Truffle Hunters_Secret of the Mountain

by Stanimir Mirov

  “Yo, Fantomas, this is not bidet!”

  “I'll tell give one bidet, next time when I put a goat hair in your food. My stomach will explode. I have shit all around the landscape.”

  “Are you sure it’s not because of the pigs? It was a good thing that they didn’t pass around us. They would of smell you first ...”

  “Oh, come on! It might be the summer virus.”

  “If you are done with the bathroom let’s make some money now.”

  They approached the river.

  “Search, search,” shouted Pisco at the dogs, “stop watching the hill.”

  Animals dug snouts in the ground, and like vacuum cleaners began to move chaotically. Suddenly one started to dig with paws the dirt. The younger brother grinned and whispered, “Come on guys, it starts. Collect the harvest.”

  The first mushroom, good enough specimen, came to light. The dog brought it, put into the hands of its owner and waited for a prize. The younger brother pulled out of his fanny pack a piece of sausage and gave it to him.

  “Bravo, Aya. There is a mushroom, there is salami.”

  The dog wagged his tail happily and continued to seek, to please his master.

  “There are mushrooms from here on. Watch the other dogs.”

  For Ivan that scene was interesting, and he went with sausage in hand after one of the dogs, hoping to receive a mushroom too. Lucky for him the dog started digging in the ground. The truffle, however, this time, was deep in the dirt, and he had to help him with his knife. Knelt beside Sunny, he reached out to dig around, but the dog growled and reached to bite him. Ninth abruptly pulled his hand, “You fucking mutt, I help you, you will bite me?”

  “Give him a piece of sausage to get used to you,” laughed Pisco. “Yo, where is Vasco?”

  “Probably pulling out a big truffle in the bushes.”

  “Well, his dog is here.”

  “Searches for him then in the river ...”

  Ivan again crouched, threw a piece of sausage aside, and while the dog ate it, he energetically dug the mushroom.

  “Well, my truffle looks like a tumor. Is this normal?”

  “The larger, the better. And yes, it is normal.”

  Fantomas was crouching hidden next to the river, with a cigarette in his mouth, clicking something on the phone. He was looking for recipes of traditional medicine against diarrhea. Staring at the screen, he heard a quiet incomprehensible whisper nearby. He turned toward the sound and saw several human figures.

  “Allahu akbar,” heard already clearly among the trees.

  The ex-con looked like sprayed at them. Gathered vigorously handful of leaves, dried himself and pulled on his pants. Dogs started to bark and rushed towards the refugees. Vasil took a breath of fresh air and noticed Ivan with a thick branch in hands to accelerate against the unknown people. During this time Pisco shone on the group with a large projector. He recognized their leader, who was a Bulgarian from his neighborhood, but it was too late. Ivan was already beating them hard while furiously shouted, “You will come to our territory for mushrooms?” Ninth has mistaken the Syrians with some Gypsies from Kotel.

  Pisco ran and stood before him, giving him a sign to stop, “Wait, our man is involved, they are not here for mushrooms. We have drank tons of rakia with Mincho "The Jewel". Let him spend his people, we will get to an agreement.”

  Mincho, who was 200 pounds tattoos, lying in all jails, used an enviable amount of drugs and alcohol, even in his own recipe, aspired to Ivan, hurrying to slip a wad of money in his hand.

  “Don't kill the merchandise ... We're not here for mushrooms, I've paid for the traffic channel. Scatter the euro equally and let’s part ways.

  Fantomas appeared suddenly, shook hands with"The Jewel" and told him to run. With speed, the refugees melted into the forest, bringing with them their half-death brothers. The three truffle hunters looked at each other with a smile. Ivan was holding three thousand euro.

  “Wow, what is happening here, Pisco? We are supposedly for mushrooms ...”

  “Traffic isn’t for us,” said the dog-breeder. “In this area, we have won only the truffles. Such people as Mincho comes and goes.

  Dogs again buried snouts in the ground and continued to look for the rare tuber magnatum pico. For hours ahead they have dug out truffles, and Ivan even get used with the dog. Vasil was not very helpful tonight and disappearedfrom time to time, but overall the rest of the evening passedunimpeded. At dawn …

  “Where is this van? My legs are killing me. My balls are stiff. I will even start speakingforeign languages...”

  “Well, what to say Fantomas, he is dehydrated. And, here's the van.”

  “Does anyone have a cigarette, I am coughing from mine?”

  “Do you want me to roll you a tobacco?”

  “Aaa, I don’t smoke such junks!”

  “I see that the captain is now parking too.”

  “What's up? Are we going to make money?”

  “Here's your bag, Pesho. Meet with the Turk. Tonight brings us the bag back in the tavern. Now we go to sleep.”

  The captain of border police poured the mushrooms in the cooler and departed on his way.

  Еntering the city, the group stopped at the first pharmacy and bought a pack of lopedium(diarrheamedicine) for Vasil. Extremely touched by this fact, Fantomas drank three pills simultaneously.

  The two border policeman, Captain Pesho Lyutskanov and Mustafa Eliza Ramadan, head of the Turkish teams, met at their place along the frontier. The deal passed quickly. Turk opened the hood of the jeep, adjusted electronic scale and measured the truffles, given by the master. Sort them and pay him the sum of eighteen hundred euro.

  “Neighbor call me for the next shipment ...”

  Chapter V

  Mincho’s Python with The Three Verses

  In the evening, showered, shaved, sleeping all day, happy with life, well dressed, the three truffle hunters stormed the tavern ... Coming for the early meeting with Pesho, still had lots of money from the refugees. They sat on the table at the corner, order drinks and appetizers, and the lame Siyka served them with her favorite jokes.

  There was panic for a moment in the tavern when the old hunters came in with a big slain boar. The drunkards anticipated the free feast andenthusiastically yelled, “Stoycho, are you engaged?”

  “No, in the corn last night we shot ten pieces. I’ve decided to bring one for the guys in the tavern, not to waste.”

  The euphoria did not end soon. Brother Sully, the owner of the establishment, grinning from ear to ear approached, “Drive it into the kitchen, so I prepare it for the fireplace. Siyka bring out my secret spice.”

  The hunters sat in the empty chairs and wine began to flow at the tables.

  At some point appeared Mincho, smiling, apparently received a text message from someone for the upcoming feast.

  “Ooo, "Jewel", did sniff out the boar by the bloody trail. Come on sit here, I have kept the whole bench for you.”

  The trafficker noticed in the corner ours, and they nodded, then he sat in his place.

  Two hours later the captain finally appeared with the bug in hand. Greeted everybody and sat down beside Ivan.

  “All, eighteen hundred euro. I left your share in the secret pocket of the bag. Tomorrow night you can still go out, but this time north to Stoilovo. I'll wait for you on the turn before the village at 6 am, to take you back to Malko Tarnovo.

  Their attention was drawn to the fray on one of the tables.

  “Yo, Mincho, what do your sorry ass brain know about Bulgarian poetry?” shouted one of the drunkards, heated by the conversation.

  The "Jewel", red from the alcohol, jumped energetically, took off his pants and hit his "python" on the table.

  “If you have not read Penyo Penev, all three verses are his.”

  Everybody stared at the genitals exposed on the table. It was all covered with lumps and was thick as a jar of yogurt, with verses tattooed on him. In prison, Mincho was fi
lling it with liquid paraffin, but it was too much because no woman wanted to have sex with him, except black Tona.

  “What do you feed him?” someone yelled from the audience.

  “Wow, what an animal!” people were amazed.

  “You're crazy!”

  “Mincho, is that why they you call you "Jewel"? Hahahahaha …”

  Siyka got out of the kitchen with a butcher knife in hand, also wanting to see Minco’s beast. The trafficker with the speed of lame cock pulled back his attribute in the pants and sat down cultural on the bench.

  “Pour him more wine, he needs more blood!” shouted another drunkard.

  The truffle hunters came out of the momentary trance, and Ivan said, “The days pass interestingly in this small town ...”

  “Oh, you have not seen anything. Wait for everybody to get drunk ...”

  Pisco had not yet uttered when one of the guys reeled back with his chair and fell asleep in the air before he even touches the ground. Another went to pee and never returned. They found him in the morning passed out in the garden in front of the local police department.

  Chapter VI

  The Blue Orchid

  Tonight the moon was bright, and practically night-vision goggles were redundant. However, the full moon in an eerie atmosphere could play a bad joke. The Blue Orchid was known among the locals as a place of which long time ago, people made human sacrifices. The rock itself was bluish, hence the name. Rarely, one allowed himself to roam around at night. Those who have passed, say they have experienced panic, fear, and someone even had seen headless silhouettes.

  “We are approaching the place, be careful.”

  “Isn’t there wolves on such a full moon?” asked Ivan.

  “Wolves attack only in the winter if they are starving. Rather worry about The Blue Orchid!”

  “What's that?” asked Vasil this time.

  “The old people are saying that it’s cursed place and it’s not good to pass from there at all. Many dead souls are circling.”

  “I don’t believe it. Was there a battle?” Ivan got interested.

  “We are in Bulgaria. There were fights everywhere. But were performed some rituals of ancient shamans thousands of years ago.”

  “Okay, let's dig some mushrooms now because I got chills down the spine!”

  At the other end of the area, however, another group of poachers was ready to export its smuggling of protected birds, in Turkey. They spent their goods in cells walking through the forest and were making a break from time to time.

  The blue rock stood on one side of a small lawn surrounded on all sides by trees. One of the poachers was leaning on the rock with his left hand, his back was towards the truffle hunters and a large branch of the tree next to him, was hiding his head completely. Unfortunately, moon illuminated the lawn so strong that visual deception wassignificantly increased.

  The truffle guys were headed in exactly that direction. The forest trail was leading to the meadow. Before they go out from the trees, however, Pisco abruptly stopped. Ivan slammed into him and also froze. They both looked staring the headless silhouette leaning towards The Blue Orchid. They wanted to speak but couldn't, and only pointed to Vasil the shadowy figure. When he saw her, Fantomas started touching his smoothly shaved head, feeling that hair is starting to grow. His inadequate behavior continued, and he fled in an unknown direction. The dogs followed him instantly thinking that he is playing with them. His friends slowly backed away and also panicky fled in the same direction. Perhaps half a mile later they overtook Vasco, who had embraced a large stone, thinking that he hid well. His friends sat beside him and lit a cigarette with trembling hands. In another situation posture of their friend would be ridiculous, but tonight their sense of humor was missing.

  The dogs played on the lawn when suddenly one of them sniffed something. The animal started to dig with pawsindustriously. The other mutts soon joined. The hole widened. Pisco noticed them, handed out his cigarette butt to Fantomas, who was still clutching the stone, took his knife out and went to see what are the dogs digging.

  “What is going on here?” he pushed the animals. “Here’s the head of guy we saw on the rock!”

  “What?” asked Ivan.

  “Come, come, get your backpack and flashlight. It looks like a big skull.”

  Timidly Ninth shone the hole, and both looked at each other again. Vasil seeing them looking like that again crouched behind the stone and curled into a ball.

  “That’s a big fucking truffle. We hit the jackpot, baby.”

  When he heard about a big mushroom, Fantomas finally came out of the trance, put aside his fears and also timidly emerged over the stone.

  “Dudes, are you fucking with me?” with a quiet voice asked the ex-con who was still in a horror movie.

  “It’s straight for exhibition!”

  His brother reached into the hole and pulled something big and white.

  “That's what I’m talking about!”

  “Wow, that’s huge as Mincho’s dick.”

  “Give the bag to collect him, the smell is very strong. The boars will feel it from a distance.”

  “Are we gonna look for more?”

  “What to look for, are you crazy? We go home straight away on foot, such Truffle on auction cost at least a hundred thousand euro.”

  “Are you serious? And where is this auction?” Ivan got interested.

  “In Italy, we only need to find somebody who deals with such things.”

  “No trouble about that. My boss, which I guard, has a chef from Milan, who invites in his banquets to cook for the guests. Luckily I got his phone number because I had invited him more than once. Alessandro is strongly my person.”

  “Let’s do it, that these mushrooms are not very durable. We should put it in a cooler and in the morning can catch a flight from Bourgas to Milan.”

  On the way back, Pisco warned the captain not to come to pick them up from the village, and Ivan reserved airline tickets online. In the morning, on the way to the airport, Ninth spoke with Alessandro to meet them at the airport with a car in which to plug the cooler with the truffle.

  Chapter VII

  The Last Supper

  The plane landed, the chef greeted them grinning and spoke in English, “Let me see the exemplar, is it worth it?”

  Pisco opened the cooler and Alessandro goggled eyes, „Mamma Mia, scary thing. You will get a lot of money. Let’s go to Buca.“

  “Who’s that?”

  “He will organize the auction for ten percent of the sale.”

  An hour later their car stopped in front of the two-story brick house in a typical Roman style, specific for them for the last few centuries. Buca met them at the door, hugged Alessandro and congratulated the rest, “Come inside my summer garden. Give the cooler with the truffle to my butler so he can make a quick analysis and issue a certificate.”

  With distrust, Pisco handed the bag, and everybody sat comfortably in the wooden wicker armchairs. The host poured whiskey into the glasses and gave them a good cigar, pleased with what he saw.

  “How heavy is the truffle?”

  “Exactly one kilogram, three hundred and twenty grams.”

  “Good, good, even great. The last such mushroom was sold for a six-figure sum.”

  The butler appeared after some time.

  “We are ready. The results are excellent, the documents are formed as we speak.”

  “Thank you, Ernesto, you are free,” said Buca and continued. “The product will remain in storage in a special showcase, and you'll come to this address tonight at eight o'clock,” the old smart ass wrote an address on a piece of paper and handed it to Alessandro. “I guess you know where it’s located?”

  The chef nodded in understanding. Buca handed them a copy of the documents while he was sending them out. They signed the contract that he is their representative and headed to the car.

  By the appointed hour, the group spent their time resting in the hotel room, be
cause they had not slept at all. Around 19:30 Ivan’s connection took them from the hotel and drove to the auction. His Punto stopped against a large fountain located at the entrance of the castle. There were two parked Rolls-Royce, several Ferraris, Maserati, limousines, but next to them was standing out a custom machine with Kuwaiti numbers, long at least fifteen meters. Alessandro’s car compared to the beast next to them, looked like a lost spare part from its engine. Ivan, from whose side was the infinitely long limousine, with chilling composure opened the door and slowly got out. He looked the whole setting haughtily, pulled out his handkerchief, raised his left leg on the threshold of the limo and calmly brushed the tip of the leather shoe. He rose up to his full height, and adjusted the rose in the upper left pocket of his suit, looking in the darkened glass visibly pleased. From aside, he looked as if it was a friend of Donald Trump and Berlusconi's cousin.

  Suddenly the limo window slid down, and from inside shone the white smile of the Kuwaiti magnate, talking in an unknown language. Ninth responded viciously in pure Bulgarian, “Yo, chump, lift up the window before I send you to Fuckistan,” after which started to speak to himself. “This vampire with a sheetstartled me ...”

  The Kuwaiti billionaire frightened raised the glass window, and Ivan continued to fix his tie. His three friends were waiting fro him eagerly on the red carpet in front of the old mansion. Young waitresses were waiting with trays filled with glasses of champagne and Beluga caviar. At the door, the concierge stopped them.

  “Good evening, gentlemen. Could you tell me your names so I can check if you are on the list?”

  All names were included on the list, but before he could confirm the Kuwaiti magnate pass by the door. The doorman only nodded to him without checking if he is also invited ...

  “Hey friend, aren’t you going to check him too?” asked Ivan in English with an aggressive step forward.

  “Please calm down, sir,” the little man answered shocked while stepping back timidly gesturing to the guards. “This gentleman is a regular customer, and I see you for first time.”