by A. K. Smith
“Cenote diving is much like going to church for some divers, it’s majestic, eternal and all-encompassing. The peacefulness of the dive is calming and then you’re surrounded by spectacular artistic formations, not made by any human hand, but by time…stunning decorations of art, enormous and breathtaking, more than any piece of artwork I can imagine. It’s powerful.” Ryder appeared mesmerized; finally something had caught his attention.
Scout descended the ladder and plopped into the water, with a grin on his face he yelled, “Let’s go to church.”
Eden was a fitting name for this cenote. One would never take a bite of an apple from any sea creature in this underwater garden, for fear one would be banished. A privilege one would not easily give up. Tranquil like a dream, a magical land, the clarity of the water creating an illusion one was suspended in air just drifting through colors. Kendall was reluctant to surface and face the tension of Ryder.
****
Scout glanced at Ryder. The all-day scowl he brought with him had completely left his face. Scout understood how the television cameras could make him a pop star, especially if they caught this side of Ryder. In the cenotes Scout noticed the strong resemblance to Tim. He remembered diving with Tim, noticing the same thing he detected regarding Ryder today, something uniquely visible happened to each of them in the water, something changed. He couldn’t quite put his finger on the difference with Tim, he had even mulled over it later, but looking at Ryder outside the water, he knew the difference became apparent inside the water. Ryder’s essence was on fire, the water brought his skin, eyes, and personality to life. Scout shook his head, maybe Ryder was just happy diving and living underneath the world instead of being on the surface with his stepmother and me. A thought not too far removed from Scout’s own mind in various stages of his life. He escaped life in the waters of the cenote; he might have to give this teenager a break.
Kendall, on the other hand, was very attractive, in the water and outside of the water. Scout tried not to notice her blue eyes reflecting the water and her soft sexy smile. She looked tired at times, but it didn’t affect her natural beauty. She carried a soft beauty, nothing distinctive, but the averageness of her face and eyes created a classic picture one wanted to look. At least he did. A story was caught in her eyes, like reading a good book that couldn’t be put down, a mystery yet to be discovered. The more he was around her, the more he liked her company. He wondered if she noticed him at all.
Enrique and Roberto helped Scout, Kendall, and Ryder pack up everything they brought in and provided a tasty snack of nuts, berries, and fruit rolled up in a tortilla of sorts. After a long day of diving and hiking, the fresh water and foods tasted incredible as they watched the sun fall into the water and the sky turn tangerine to bloody orange on the ride home. While Scout played one of his favorite tunes by Stevie Ray Vaughn, “The Sky is Crying,” the vibrant red, orange, and pink colors painted the sky.
His thoughts drifted to the real reason Tim Jackson had arranged this trip. Not being truthful was an uncomfortable and unfamiliar feeling for Scout. They had no idea, it was evident, but he hated lies.
Chapter 21
After an interval of silence, he entered the dark empty house. He walked a slow pace, with confidence, even after hearing a double beep of the alarm code. He knew the layout of the house; he had been here before.
In the bedroom, his flashlight illuminated the painting of Kendall and Tim on the beach in Mexico. The light paused on their faces for at least thirty seconds. The house engulfed in pure silence as the man stopped and stared at the oversized canvas photo. His eyes locked in on their faces. Abruptly, he turned away and the search began. At first drawers were opened with a gentle touch, contents not disturbed. Gingerly touching a few items a little longer than necessary, gloved fingers unbolted closets and cabinets, going from room to room.
Time passed, and he found himself back to the photo on the wall empty-handed. Rapid movements developed into slamming drawers and cabinets, tossing contents on the floor, pushing furniture out of his path. Destruction became an outlet, he threw furniture and knocked over lamps. He picked up a picture he had thrown on the floor. On the back, he spotted it. Someone was listening. He searched for hidden cameras and found none.
Silence once again filled the empty house as he made his way stealthily to the garage and slowly crept up the staircase to the room above. He turned the knob; the door was locked. He hesitated and then with adrenaline force tried to kick the door in. Once, twice, the noise pierced the quiet air with pain. Silence again filled the heavy black night until the sound of a key entered the lock on the upstairs garage door.
Five minutes later sirens filled the air.
Chapter 22
Kendall gazed at the incredible view from the patio she shared with Ryder, her eyes filled with water, a single flow of moisture on her cheeks. She wiped the tears with the back of her hand. Thoughts of Tim consumed her, wondering how things would be different if he were here. She imagined an environment where her stepson actually enjoyed her company and they communicated. Tomorrow, she and Ryder would embark on the overnight camping trip and she hoped it would prove to be exciting and adventurous not disastrous and painful.
Ryder spent every night outside of the two-bedroom villa they shared. Eventually, by morning, he would end up in his room but for hours he was out of sight, hidden in a bar somewhere or hooking up with a girl he met or strolling with the handful of eighteen to twenty-one-year-olds that inhabited the resort. A strange dynamic, an adults-only resort, with an unusual pack of unattached single adults generally under the age of twenty-one, traveling with a parent. Attracted to each other like the little Scottish tricky dog magnets, chasing each other in the wee hours of the night. The electric energy of each seemed to draw the others out. Somehow, they found each other in the late hours of each day, traveling in packs and congregating in places not populated by couples or older adults.
Upon their return from diving, Ryder briefly chatted to several different guys and girls. As they passed each other they provided the slightest up-tick to the chin to acknowledge each other.
She thought about staying up until dawn to confront Ryder, but as soon as the thought entered her mind, she knew it was the wrong thing to do. He was over eighteen; therefore, at least on paper even if not in maturity, he was a legal adult.
The idea of burning the midnight oil night after night and then diving all day seemed impossible. She remembered a time not so long ago when staying up all night talking, listening to music and just being in close proximity with the one you love, gave you energy of a different force. It was electrifying. She had many nights with Tim, when sleep wasn’t even on the radar screen. She wished they would have stayed up more nights.
Was this the trip he envisioned for his son? Probably not, it would have been a guy’s trip. She wouldn’t have been part of it. Her mind went to the briefcase. Was there a part of Tim she didn’t know? It seemed impossible but what she found made it factual. He kept secrets from me.
She rolled over, staring at her beautiful hotel room with its dark beams on the ceiling and billowing canvas woven in between the wood. Luxurious and romantic but the giant king bed seemed half empty. Lonely and sad, two emotions not part of the six years with Tim, now were her closest roommates.
****
Kendall awoke, once again dreaming of Tim, a tranquil peace washed over her. She fought the pressure to open her eyes. For in that moment she was filled with joy and she wanted to stay asleep to see what would happen next.
She heard the noise again and looked at the clock on the nightstand; it was the first night all week, Ryder was home before midnight. The click of the door and the sound of Ryder running the water allowed her to close her eyes and for the first time in a long time, she slept a peaceful sleep.
The wake-up call jarred her. She bounded out of bed, took a long hot shower, picked up the room service menu, and ordered a breakfast for two to be delivered, full of eggs, pro
tein drinks, and fruit. She smiled in the shower, a little residue of last night’s dream still playing in her head as she enjoyed the hot water running over her, the last for the next three days.
Her dream of Tim still playing in her mind, even though the details were fuzzy and fading with every drop of water. She loved dreaming of him; for a moment he was alive and they were together again.
“Good morning.”
Ryder didn’t look up and greet her good morning, acting entrenched in whatever he was reading, shoveling eggs and bacon in his mouth, headphones on.
Kendall pretended another human being ignoring your morning greeting was typical.
At least they were together in the same room, not fighting. As much as she wasn’t a camper, Kendall was determined to enjoy this last leg of the journey. Perhaps it was last night’s dream, giving her a sign saying everything was going to be all right.
She hoped so, her thoughts unwillingly flashed to the contents of the briefcase, the Navy ID, and the neurosurgeon’s card. One thing at a time.
Chapter 23
Scout noticed something different as Kendall walked over to his Land Rover.
“Good morning, Scout, I think everything on the list is in this duffel.” She let the heavy duffel slide off her shoulder. “And I have a backpack as well.” Kendall placed the overstuffed backpack on the ground next to the duffel. “Is this too much to take?”
The extra-large duffel, bursting at the seams, couldn’t hold another pair of socks. He had stayed in the jungle with a third of her luggage for forty-five days when they laid the eighty-mile line underwater, but Tim had paid for the Sherpas and as long as Ryder didn’t have double the load, they should be okay. Women always pack more.
“It looks okay, let Enrique repack it if you don’t mind and we can see if we can use this dry pack to fit it all in.” He held up a yellow bag half the size.
“Okay…dry pack, will we be taking it through water?” she asked. “My Kindle is in there.”
Kindle? He had no idea what she was referring to, and in an attempt to not embarrass himself, in case it was a private woman’s thing, he nodded. “Okay, we can put it in the dry bag.”
“So, will we be walking through water to our camp spot?” She still looked puzzled.
Scout started to answer but his attention moved to Ryder as he dumped two bags, both the size of Kendall’s, on the ground.
Ryder’s duffel’s were grossly oversized. Thank God, they weren’t trekking to the original cenote. They would never make it with this weight. Never. This confirmed his doubts, he made the right choice. “We have to cross six rivers to get to the site. We can take the Land Rover through the first three rivers but the other three we will need to swim through as they are too deep for any vehicle. It’s a one-day hike to get to the cenote, we will arrive at dusk, set up camp and explore the cenote the next day. Then another night of camping and the third day we will head out and return home.”
He had their attention; he continued, “To answer your question, yes, we will need to pack everything in a dry bag otherwise it will get wet and we will definitely have to reduce the load.”
His voice sounded gritty even to him. He spoke softer instead of scolding. “Really, we just need suits and something to sleep in and clothes to hike in. The jungle is thick, and some of the plants can cause rashes, I would recommend layering a thin long shirt over a T-shirt, long pants and hats. If you think there is something you can take out of your packs please figure it out, we have Enrique and Roberto to help, but remember they will be carrying food, water, and the diving equipment, that means tanks and all the supplies.”
Kendall immediately went to her pack, face flushed. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking, I didn’t realize about the rivers and traveling all by foot.” She smiled at Scout. “I can definitely get rid of some things.”
Ryder knelt on the ground pulling items out of his two large duffels.
Thirty minutes later, the contents of the three large duffel bags were down to two dry packs. Kendall and Ryder, with layered light clothing and hats on, both had backpacks in smaller dry bags slung over their shoulders. They looked as if they knew what they were doing; the scene could have been a cover photo in an adventure magazine. Scout was reminded how easily looks could be deceiving.
The roar of the Land Rover opened up to the raw nature, soaring through the scrub, birds flying with the vehicle. A lush, wet and shiny jungle scene flashed out the back windows, a green explosion, in every shade imaginable. They were on their way.
****
The fourth river caught them by surprise. The first three river crossings had been relatively easy and strikingly picturesque. Three hours and three river crossings later, after traveling 78 miles through dense jungle on narrow, bumpy roads, they hit the fourth river.
Ryder, desperately in need of a Manners 101 class, kept his headphones on the entire three hours, while Kendall and Scout easily slipped into conversations regarding a variety of topics.
She listened and asked simple touristy questions. Scout adored this part of the world and was full of useful information. What she really wanted to know was more about Scout. The more they talked, the more she found him intriguing. His wild straw-colored hair pulled back in a ponytail, and his fluidity of the English language reminded her of a college professor. A professor all the young girls would be in love with. She wanted to ask, where he was from, if he lived alone, and of all the beach towns in the world, why here? Questions which seemed too private in front of Ryder, Enrique and Roberto, so she said nothing.
In the small shadows of silence her mind escaped to Tim and the briefcase. Analyzing why he would keep this from her. She pressed on her temples with both hands closing her eyes.
“Is it something I said?” Scout had stopped in mid-sentence and looked sideways at her; she was caught not paying attention.
“No, I was just thinking about stuff back home, you know, work stuff.” She smiled apologetically.
“Not really,” he replied. “This is my work, my home. I gave up all that busy stressful city life a long time ago.”
“What city?” She studied him curiously.
“D.C.”
“Wow, I would never have guessed you were going to say D.C., so you were born in our nation’s capital?”
“No, born in California, Northern California.” His gaze met hers. “And you, Maryland?”
“No, a small town in Western Pennsylvania, outside of Pittsburgh. Soap Hollow, and yes that is seriously the name.”
He laughed. She decided to ask the questions she wanted to ask all day. “What made you move to D.C.?”
Scout laughed. “Usually, I get the question, what made you move to Mexico?”
His laugh was contagious. “That’s my next question.”
He revealed he loved growing up in Northern California, mentioning—more than once—it should be a separate state from Southern California. He went to the University of California, Santa Barbara, and studied environmental issues focusing on climate change.
“Climate change?” she asked. “Did they even call it that back then?”
He raised his eyebrow, his attraction level shining through. “Back then?” He smiled. “Not everyone, at first it was climate modification, because that is all we knew, then the term global warming was used. I hooked up with an organization and they relocated me to the nation’s capital to assist in publishing research on the warming climate. Lots of politics and stress. Can you imagine the frustration in trying to attach importance to research no one wanted to believe in? Powerful corporations were succeeding at disproving it. In their mind, they had no choice but to protect their bottom line. The lies, the oil industry advocates, the politics of those trying to discredit scientific consensus for political reasons and greed.” He took a breath. “It was exhausting. What I know is this, in the decades ahead the consequences of carbon and other greenhouse gas emission by humans and their activities will cause irrefutable dange
rous developments.” Scout continued in a serious calm voice. “We can expect without a doubt major droughts, polar melting, coastal flooding, and severe weather. Just watch the weather channel for any extended length of time and it’s not hard to see what’s coming.”
She sat up, listening intently to Scout speak, he was much more than a cave diver who owned a dive shack on the beach of Mexico. His green eyes full of a passion and conviction mixed with the same enthusiastic look he exposed to her when diving the cenotes.
“One day all nations will fight over scarcity of land and fresh water. In many countries, the war has been on for centuries. Arable land, land that can be used for farming, growing crops, land which we can live off, survive on, there will be a shortage even to Americans. We are polluting our waterways on a daily basis with EPA leaks, oil leaks.” Scout paused. “It’s all about the water.” He turned to look at her as he repeated, “It truly is all about the water, your husband and I had this same conversation.”
Before she could shake the surprise off her face, Scout slammed the brakes. She hadn’t even noticed the wide-ranging river in front of them. The fourth river. A river they could not drive through.
They parked the Land Rover and got out to stretch their legs. Her mind was trying to wrap itself around the picture of Scout and Tim having a conversation. The dense bush and jungle cradled the river. As far as the eye could see, there were no signs of civilization, no cell phone towers, no buildings, roads, or signs of life. “It feels so removed, like we are the only ones on the planet. Who owns this land?” she asked Scout.
He stopped stretching and started placing the packs and gear on the ground. “The people of Mexico. Most of this land is owned by many families together, for centuries it has been passed down.”
Scout, Enrique, and Roberto sorted out the packs, tanks and gear with surprising ease, and explained where and how they would cross the river.