by A. K. Smith
“No, thanks. I’m fine.”
“So, what’s this all about?” Tricia stared at her nails and then back at Kendall.
“Tim had planned to take Ryder on a special eighteenth birthday trip, a cave diving trip just for the two of them. It’s with a cave diver in Mexico and Tim set everything up, it looks like right before…” She paused, “the accident.” He postponed the trip until Ryder’s nineteenth birthday, next week.” She rubbed the palm of her hand with her thumb, drawing a circle. “It was one of the last things he did before he died, and in his logbook, his diving logbook, he left me a message. In case anything happened to him, he wanted me to take Ryder on the trip. He left the message the day he died.” Crossing her legs, she clasped her hands in front of her and took a deep breath. “I told Ryder about the trip, but he won’t respond to me.” She sat up straighter and spoke with authority. “I have two tickets leaving Phoenix tomorrow to Cancun with a car picking us up to take us to the resort. I’ve cleared Ryder’s schedule with his publicist, and we will be gone for the next seven days. The dive master, Scout, has everything ready and set up to do the trip.” She knew her face was full of emotion but, unwavering, she did not lose eye contact. “I was wondering if you would help me…help me pack Ryder’s dive bag and help me complete Tim’s last wish.” She paused. “I’ve never asked you for anything, Tricia, but I’m asking you for this.”
****
Ryder threw his car keys on the counter, headed directly for the refrigerator, opened it and looked inside. He pulled out a bottle of Rock Star energy drink and flipped the tab back, and just as he was tilting his head back, out of the corner of his eye he noticed Kendall standing in his kitchen.
“Kendall?” He swallowed, clenching his jaw. He put the drink down on the counter and waited for her to speak, the hot dog from the hockey game wanting to come up.
Chapter 15
Looking out the window, Ryder sank lower in the seat and pulled the hat over his eyes. At Security, Kendall had handed him his boarding pass and he had been shocked she booked First Class. Thank God. At least on the way home, which can’t get here soon enough, it will be comfortable.
He closed his eyes, and involuntarily shook his head as he replayed the scene from last night. He almost spit his drink out when he noticed Kendall standing in his kitchen with his mom. She just stood there with a stupid smile on her face. His heart tightened when he spotted his suitcase and dive bag by the front door.
Kendall had caught him by surprise with her question.
“Ryder, if you knew what your father’s last wish was—the last wish before he died—and you had the capability of making it come true, would you do it?”
His mother leaned against the kitchen counter, with a bottle of water in her hand wearing a look Ryder was unfamiliar with.
“Of course I would, what a stupid question.” He grinded his teeth. “What’s going on, what’s with all the philosophical questions?” He met Kendall’s eyes. “What are you doing in my house?”
Now, here he was, on a plane headed for Cancun, Mexico, his last two painkillers stashed in his backpack and the majority of his clothes packed by his mother.
He wished he were taking this trip with his father, not Kendall. Thinking about it pissed him off even more. It was his birthday present, he should get to decide who he goes with. It didn’t matter he didn’t know anybody who was cave diving certified except for Steve Crawford, he was still angry. How did he agree to this?
The same questions kept running through his mind, why did his father write in his log book right before he died? Why did he write Kendall should take Ryder on the trip? Perhaps, he didn’t even mean the cave diving trip; maybe he meant another trip to the Blue Hole? What is so important about this trip? Why did I agree to do this?
The last time they were together, they discussed a future Blue Hole diving trip and then his father went without him and died. Strange, all of it, the postponed trip, the logbook. He didn’t understand any of it, but because of the entry in the logbook, well, it meant something. Knowing the last words his father wrote down on a piece of paper included his name. Just that simple gesture. His father thinking of him before he died, comforted him. He knew no matter what or how he acted toward Kendall, deep down inside, he was going on the trip to honor his father’s wishes.
Listening to his headphones, he doubted his mom had packed everything necessary for seven days of cave diving and he wondered if he could actually survive the jungle with Kendall and this guide. He had been to Cancun with his father six or seven years ago right before his father married; it was the last one on one dive trip with his dad. They had stayed at a beautiful resort in Playa Del Carmen called Hacienda Tres Rios, a spectacular Nature Park, not too far from where he passed the rescue diver certification.
Was Kendall certified as a basic cave diver? Was she even equipped to go on this dive in a cenote?
He had snorkeled in a cenote waterway; a striking turquoise river and tunnel with rock formations with his father. At times, it went on the surface and then below. They had followed the above-ground river to the sea. It was an epic adventure and Ryder was mesmerized as they treaded water in the last cave and swam with manatees. He remembered his father telling him a story he hadn’t thought about for years.
His father explained Mexico had the largest underground cave systems in the world, hundreds no man had ever seen. Once the cenotes were a series of tunnels that ran under the earth, but as the limestone became saturated and time went on, the tunnels filled up with fresh water. They were sacred places to the Maya people; treasured because it was the only fresh water in the Yucatán. Fresh water from the cenotes held a magical quality because of its mineral content and luminescent color.
His father described in detail a dive that contained giant caverns, stalactites and stalagmites falling and rising from the limestone walls with underwater passageways of crystal-clear water. A hidden paradise, his father had said. He remembered asking, “Will you take me there, Dad?” His father had smiled and said something like, “I hope so, when the time is right, maybe someday we can go there together. It will be our special trip.” He realized the time would never be right since he was gone…but maybe this cenote exploration was the place he wanted him to see.
The flight dragged on. Ryder kept his music loud, pretending he was sleeping, avoiding conversation with Kendall. He kept repeating the same little chant in his mind, I’m going on this trip for my father, Kendall just happens to be here.
Chapter 16
It was apparent to Kendall, as Ryder stared at the glimpses of the beautiful blue water hugging the road to Puerto Morelos, he loved the ocean as much as his father did. She had never noticed the resemblance so distinctly. Ryder carried the same glint in his eyes as Tim around water, his eyes reflecting light from the sea; even from a distance, it turned his eyes fifty shades of color.
Ryder did not utter a whole sentence to Kendall on the plane. His one-syllable answers to various questions were not the conversations she had pictured in her mind.
It was enough; he was here, and this was a big step in their relationship, she knew to take it slow. Tonight she imagined getting to the hotel room and going out to dinner and having something that resembled a conversation. Tomorrow, they would meet Scout Whitman and find out all the details of the dive trip Tim had planned.
Scout Whitman, she assumed, had reserved a suite for them at a beautiful resort, Zoëtry Paraiso de la Bonita. It had two master bedrooms, two baths on opposite ends of a large living room/dining room, with an individual terrace separated by a large shared outdoor lounging and eating area. A gorgeous oceanfront boutique resort. Even Ryder’s jaw dropped driving through the manicured lawns and exotic jungle surrounding the road leading to the beach where the resort was located. He smiled for the first time when greeted at check-in by an exotic, beautiful young hostess and given a hot towel, cold drink, and a selection of fresh fruits.
The resort was beyond a doubt spectacul
ar, ninety suites nestled on fourteen pristine acres of breathtaking talcum-powder-white sand and turquoise-blue water. Located next door to a well-preserved National Marine Park, which boasted the largest barrier reef in the Americas, it appeared as a mirage, taking form in the middle of the empty, rugged coastline.
The room had marble and stone in every direction in warm sand colors, and deep rich wood, tranquil and luxurious in a sparse contemporary way. An ultra-large terrace was situated in the middle. The suite large enough to have a blowout party if you wanted and yet it maintained privacy from neighboring suites with outdoor dining, a lounge area, a great white soft-sheeted bed and a dead-on straight view of the water. A long wooden pier ran out into the water and a beautiful catamaran was moored out in front. She wondered if Tim had selected this place or if Scout had picked it. It was simply magnificent. Her heart ached, wishing she were experiencing this with Tim. She shook her head as if to knock away those feelings from her brain.
The all-inclusive resort had several restaurants to choose from or the option to order room service on their scenic terrace. Tonight, she and Ryder could have a nice dinner on the terrace, talk about his father, the diving adventure, and Ryder’s life with Paradise Valley. She had no idea what was going on in Ryder’s life. She had little contact over the past year except for a few cryptic texts. Her mind raced back to the original thought regarding the entry in the logbook. Maybe Tim told her to take Ryder on the trip because he knew if something were to happen to him, Ryder would lose all contact. His way of keeping them connected.
Lost in thought, she heard the door open. Ryder walked out of his master suite and opened the door to the outside.
“Ryder, I thought maybe we could order a little dinner and talk about this week? Maybe sit on the terrace and call room service or maybe you would like to pick a restaurant on site? They have several, and they all look delicious, your choice…”
He turned around, the beautiful eyes with shades of color reflecting the water disappeared. Anger filled them. “Well, it is my birthday trip, so let’s say I do a little celebrating the way I want to.” He walked out letting the door slam behind him.
The back of the door held her focus. Even the sunset sneaking into the terrace, the rays painting a kaleidoscope of light and shadows didn’t turn her head. All the beauty of a place could not hide the ugliness of hurt.
Chapter 17
“Ryder, you need to get up, we’re meeting Scout Whitman in fifteen minutes.” She knocked again, hurting her hand as she pounded harder. “Ryder, answer me, or I’m coming in…you need to get up now. We need to leave here to meet Scout.”
Kendall let out a deep breath, looked up at the ceiling, her hands on hips, shaking her head. “Ryder, are you in there?”
She debated whether she should turn the knob and open the door. Suddenly, the suites’ outside door opened.
“What are you doing?” He walked toward her, scowling, staring at her hand on the doorknob to his room. Kendall had a fine sense of smell, most times annoyingly so. The liquor smell emanated from Ryder’s body, and something else, sweet perfume hit her square in the face. He looked like an old Tom Cruise movie with retro black matte Ray-Ban sunglasses, white T-shirt and jeans. His clothes unwrinkled, she wondered if he even slept or what he slept in.
“Seriously? You’re asking me what I’m doing.” He was eighteen, but what were the rules? Last night, she woke up every hour to check whether he had come home, thoughts racing through her mind about calling resort security. Finally, in the last hour she had fallen hard into a deep sleep, dreaming of blue waters and Tim swimming toward her. She was angry, tired, and sad and definitely unsure if this journey was the best idea.
They stood in silence. Kendall put her sunglasses on and threaded her ponytail through the hole in the back of the baseball cap. “See you out front in ten minutes, bring everything you think you’ll need…or don’t bring anything at all. I really don’t care, if you’re not there, no problem.” Heat crawled up her neck and face. She took a deep breath, paused and lowered her voice to a soft, calm tone. “You know, Ryder, we can end it right now, pack up and go home, it’s entirely up to you.” A long pause again. “Like you said, this is ‘your birthday present’, and yes I know it’s from your father who is not here and I am instead, and yes, I wish it were different, Oh God do I wish it were different.” Her throat tightened, and her eyes watered. “You work it out. You’re over eighteen, an adult. Figure out what you want to do, so I know what to do…and by the way…you smell like a brewery. Good luck with diving today,” she paused again, “that is if you still want to dive.” She picked up Tim’s old dive bag, a large green duffel, and walked past him out the door. Now, we will see if this journey is going to start or not.
****
As soon as the resort van pulled up to Scout’s Dive Shop, a sporty shack-like structure in bright blue with a yellow porch, a tall, tanned, muscular man with a baseball hat and short blond ponytail opened the door.
“Hola, you must be Kendall. Scout Whitman. Nice to meet you.” Kendall smiled and stepped out of the van. Scout walked around the back of the shuttle where Ryder was climbing out. Scout held out his hand, trying to maintain eye contact, but Ryder kept his black sunglasses on and offered a limp handshake. “And, you must be Ryder…”
Scout had gear lined up in large piles on the ground outside the shop.
“Is this all for us?”
Scout took off his hat, pulling the ponytail loose and ran his fingers through messy medium-length blond hair. His sun-kissed skin was a warm bronze. “Yes, and there’s more in the rover,” he said. “First, let’s go sit down and discuss the trip.” Scout pointed to the small porch with a few chairs and a swing. “I really don’t know how much you know regarding what your…er, husband planned.”
“Well, not much. Actually, we don’t know anything…just that he wanted to take Ryder on this dive trip. So, why don’t you show us where we are going?” Sleeping bags and tents lay on the ground. Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself she could do this for Tim. “Oh, with such a nice resort reserved for us, I didn’t realize we would be camping for a night…”
Scout raised his eyebrows. “Not exactly for a night…but the next five nights, it’s a pretty remote location, not accessible in a day, the Sherpas will help us carry our packs in and out,” Scout paused, his eyes going back and forth on Kendall and Ryder. “Sounds like I need to bring you up to speed.”
Sherpas?…I thought they were only at Mt. Everest.
Chapter 18
Scout could see the resemblance to Tim as Ryder lifted his hat off and ran his hand over the top of his head. It would be difficult to say Ryder Jackson was not a fundamentally handsome kid. His pretty-boy characteristics and muscular, rugged physique were undeniably striking. He looked like he could be in the movies. He carried a scowl and a presence of entitlement, a trait his father didn’t pass down. His good looks were obvious, made more evident as Lily, Scout’s assistant, who barely looked up from her computer for anyone, was blushing under her heavy makeup and tongue-tied trying to introduce herself as they walked onto the porch to sit down.
Rubbing his chin, wondering for the hundredth time, why it had been so damn important for him to get in touch with Tim Jackson, why he couldn’t let it go after not hearing back from him, he sighed. No one would have known. Scout had been teetering back and forth in his mind, questioning whether he should take Kendall and Ryder to the specific cenote Tim Jackson had shown him on the map. It would be a difficult excursion for any experienced cave diver and the journey was deep into the Yucatán. There would not be easy access; it was unlikely it had ever been explored, and it involved a demanding expedition to get there and no accessible roads within twenty-five miles.
Within ten minutes of talking to them, Scout knew it was definitely going to be a difficult challenge with these two. He also knew he had to make a quick assessment on whether or not they possessed full-blown cave diving skills. He excused h
imself from the porch. He needed to think.
Since cave diving officially began in the mid to late eighties, over four-hundred people had lost their lives. Scout had a clean record, no deaths under his watch and over 7000 logged cave dives. Most open-water divers had the mindset if they could open-water dive, then with a little course or reading up on cave dives they could easily cave dive.
Wrong thinking….that was where most of the deaths occurred—inexperience and lack of education. Cave diving wasn’t for everyone. It required good balance, good buoyancy and confidence in the ability to deal psychologically with any predicament that could occur in a cave. Unlike other diving, if you needed to surface you couldn’t. Most people couldn’t deal with that constriction.
He analyzed the two of them through the window. You also needed to get along and have respect for each other, clearly something which did not exist with the mismatched pair in front of him. Tim’s wife repacked her bag assessing the large mound of supplies on the ground. With her hair pulled back in a ponytail hanging out of a black hat, she looked fresh, a classic look, much younger than her age and slightly uncomfortable. Her eyes held a haunted look. Ryder stood, arms crossed, facing the water, earplugs in, his fingers flying on his phone. This attachment to technology, was a tribal marking of American teenagers. He would give Ryder a few more minutes of his obsession, a pleasure soon to be short-lived, as they would be going off the grid. He had to make a choice.
Even the most experienced and trained diver, in one second, could be separated from his buddy and a newfound anxiety could take over his sanity. All it took was a little bit of low visibility due to silt or organic debris stirred up in a tight space, and losing one’s sense of direction. Any unknown incident could create mental anguish, which could lead to accidents. He had experienced this as a team of one of twelve divers who recorded and mapped the longest underground cave system in the Yucatán. Accidents happen even when everyone had the same goal in mind.