A Deep Thing

by A. K. Smith

  “Well, the dinner’s on me, Steve. It’s the least I can do after you flew all the way down to Mexico for Ryder and me. It meant a lot to us.” She paused, then added, “Ryder looks up to you, you know?”

  “He’s a good kid. I’m always here for him, I hope he knows that. You know, it isn’t just Ryder that means a lot to me.” Steve touched Kendall’s hands, and looked her straight in the eye. “Kendall, I’ve been so worried about you for the last year and a half. It hurts me to see you in pain. I’ve always been here for you even if you didn’t take me up on it.” He released her hands and took a sip from his large red wine glass.

  “I know you’ve always been there, Steve, I just needed some time away from everyone. But I’m in a good place now, the trip was good for both Ryder and me, even with the mix-up at the end.” She smiled and poured more wine into both their glasses.

  “Well, you certainly look like you’re in a good place. Your tan makes you look beautiful and well rested.” Steve oozed with charm and warmth, and it dawned on her, he was flirting. She had never seen it before, never noticed his slight advances. Amazing. Before the trip to Mexico, that part of her was dormant. Recognizing flirting was not in her mindset. Maybe that’s why he never told me Scout called.

  The wine flowed and dinner was excellent. With each glass, Steve became animated, telling old stories, dribbling with charisma. She directed the conversation to cave diving spots Steve explored, mentioning several locations which appeared in the documents last night. The majority of the locations she mentioned Steve and Tim traveled together. She laughed at a few memories of Steve and the vast variety of women he took diving. From the outside looking in, it was simply two attractive adults enjoying a night out.

  She wanted to discuss the briefcase, but she just couldn’t form the words. ‘Lambie’ kept popping in her mind. She didn’t want to change the mood, so she suggested an after-dinner drink, and he gladly ordered his favorite drink, Grand Marnier for two. Eventually the conversation inevitably turned back to Tim. Steve and Tim had a long history, longer than she and Tim. Tim the one link they had in common. But, for the past year and a half Steve had been cautious around Kendall, never discussing Tim and glory stories from the past.

  Tonight was an exception, the liquor helped them laugh at old stories and reminisce about the past. Kendall almost forgot her plan until their second Grand Marnier when Steve made a seemingly casual inquiry.

  “So, I meant to ask you, did that key ever fit Tim’s briefcase?”

  The air drastically changed. The question seemed forced, like trying to push a large dog out of a small cat door. She didn’t mean to stop laughing so abruptly, and she clamped a hand over her mouth, the alcohol affecting her. “Oh, I think I have the hiccups,” She forced a hiccup and laughed, “Excuse me for one second, I’ll be right back.”

  Standing up from the table, she wobbled. In her efforts to get Steve drunk, she succeeded in getting herself tipsy. The ladies’ room mirror reflected a flushed face and chest. She had no idea how to answer Steve’s question. She took two deep breaths and ran her wrists under cold water.

  When she returned to the table, the waitress placed the black portfolio on the table next to Steve.

  “Steve, I’m buying dinner tonight.” She reached for the bill as he pulled it away from her and said, “It’s already paid, you can buy me a drink at the bar.”

  Her plan was falling apart. “Thank you, Steve, and I will buy you a drink as well…but I really wanted to buy you dinner.” Standing, his scent surrounded her and warm eyes met hers; she could see why a woman would find him irresistible. She smiled and took a deep breath. “I’m buying you a shot just for that.”

  He put his arm around her shoulder, leading her to the bar, and said, “Only if you’re going to do one with me.”

  They shuffled to the loungy bar area, with low lighting, lit candles, and empty barstools. Alcohol definitely made everything a little fuzzy. Steve ordered up three Don Julio 1942 tequila shots.

  “These are on the lady.”

  It sobered her up—the three tequila shots sitting on the bar in front of her. She realized how much he missed his friend. Tim would have made the same gesture for a close friend who had passed. She studied his face. Definitely a handsome man, but his playboy reputation and his treatment of women in the past marred his outer beauty. She always admired his looks, but never attracted to his cocky personality.

  Tonight a softness covered his facial features, the corner of his eyes portraying a lost and lonely look. Perhaps it was the libations, but she actually felt a little sorry for him. He had never married, and rarely kept a girlfriend for more than three or four months. He must be lonely.

  “So, what about you, Steve?”

  “What about me?”

  “Do you have anyone special in your life?”

  He smiled and looked straight at her, and with a little slur replied, “No, not me. I’m just waiting for the right girl to become available.” He leaned forward. It took a second for her to realize his intention, and then, he was kissing her. His lips were soft, warm. Confusion and guilt flooded her. She pulled back, her breath coming in short pants.

  She had a choice to make.

  Chapter 34

  The alarm clock went off and Kendall rubbed her crusty eyes. Harvey shook his head, nudging her, a sure sign he needed to go outside and wanted her to wake up. Fuzzy, or perhaps a little dizzy. She scrambled to think straight. Last night…

  Steve insisted on following her back to her house, to make sure she made it home okay. He also insisted on coming into the house and doing a thorough check because of the break-in.

  She hadn’t been able to control her rapid heartbeat; the alcohol and the kiss had her mind zooming. As much as she knew it was wrong, she wanted to feel a man’s arms around her. She wanted to be held tight after eighteen months of zero sexual activity. Her libido directing her. First, Scout, and now she felt a strange sexual pull to playboy Steve.

  Even in a cloudy haze, Kendall remembered the events of last night, Steve asked about the briefcase again.

  “So, you never answered my question, Kendall, did that key ever fit the briefcase?”

  The question about the briefcase shut her libido down and woke her up out of her drunken state. As he asked the question a second time; she was convinced, Steve knew…. He knew something about Tim’s secret life.

  This time she was ready with an answer. “No, it didn’t fit the briefcase, must go to some cabinet in the bar, and now I can’t figure out where I put it!” Steve leaned against the granite island in the kitchen.

  “The key or the briefcase?”

  Getting each of them a cup of coffee, her insides jumped as if on a trampoline. The rhythm of her heartbeat accelerated in her ears. She didn’t turn. “The key, I can’t figure out where I put the key.”

  Facing him she leaned, on the counter. The distance between them less than twelve inches she wanted answers, and she needed them tonight.

  “What do you know about Tim that I don’t know?”

  Steve was silent, his soft brown eyes almost golden. He hesitated, and then answered, “I know he was taking dive trips, and intentionally lying to me about them.”

  She was taken aback by his answer; she hadn’t expected any answer at all.

  “Dive trips? What do you mean he was lying to you about dive trips?”

  “I don’t know, Kendall. For the past couple of years Tim has been traveling to destinations and lying about them. Did you know where he was going on his dive trips?”

  She thought back to the longitude and latitude document with all the different locations, places she never realized Tim visited. She lied, “Yes, I did know where he was going; I figured you couldn’t go along, because you were watching the bar.”

  He ran his fingers through his hair and folded his arms over his chest. “Yes, you’re probably right, maybe that’s why.” He stood and poured himself a cup of coffee. “So do you need help getting the
briefcase open?”

  There was more Steve was holding back from her. “The briefcase? No, it wasn’t really locked. Just some clasp and button you pushed, turns out I didn’t need a key after all.” Her face and neck were flushed; she was a terrible liar.

  Steve seemed instantly awake. “What was in it?”

  “Nothing really important, a few things of Ryder’s, his divorce papers, just legal documents.” She opened the fridge grabbing the organic half-and-half. “Cream, Steve?” She held her hand to the counter to stop it from shaking.

  Silence; the swarm of lies hovered in the air, thickening the space. She imagined Steve yelling loud and clear, I don’t believe you.

  He had to know about the briefcase contents…but her gut was yelling right back, don’t say anything. She used an early morning meeting as an excuse, and practically pushed Steve out of the house.

  ****

  Experts say it takes twenty-one days to make or break a habit. Starting a new bad habit, Kendall realized she was going to be late for work again. She hoped it wasn’t her twenty-first day.

  Work was the last thing on her mind, but Kendall had to step up and pull her weight if she didn’t want to jeopardize her livelihood. Just get through today. She would have all weekend to study the contents of the briefcase and make sense out of Steve’s behavior last night.

  Four busy hours later, she was ready to take her lunch break. She opened the safe in her office and took out the map that looked like a blueprint. Something was nagging her. She couldn’t wait until the weekend. She headed to the faculty conference lounge seldom used by anyone in Sutton Hall. In the past, she used to meet a favorite colleague there for lunch, Dr. Andrew Lunardini. One of WMC’s beloved history professors, most including Kendall called him Dr. A. She co-chaired a committee with him several years ago and long after the committee disbanded, they continued their monthly lunch meetings. Lunch with Dr. A was like watching a treasured movie. She would always learn something new. One day, an interesting tidbit about college history, and the next something unusual and exciting about a far corner of the world.

  Dr. A’s reflections on the past intrigued her the most. His unique perspective, slightly off from the norm, unlocked her mind to new interpretations. Dr. A savored each new idea, like a wine taster. He would take a step back, swirl the idea around, smell it, then taste it. He was inquisitive without ever offending.

  Handsome for his age, which he never disclosed, and no one asked, Kendall guessed he was in his early seventies. His kind, hazel eyes always focused. He listened—as if he really cared about the speaker, paying attention to each word uttered.

  After Tim died, even when she was not sharing, he was there. His student assistants confirmed their monthly lunch appointment, calling it a standing committee co-chair meeting up until the month he retired.

  He taught Kendall the art of listening. She wanted to display that same empathy to students. Because of him, she learned to slow her mind down. Kendall missed their lunches, and she missed being heard.

  Walking through the oak grove to Sutton and Nathaniel Hall, the two oldest buildings on campus, she recognized the beauty surrounding her. The cobalt sky behind the soaring oaks resembled a fake backdrop. The campus was pristine and she was finally awake to notice. Floundering in a sea of unanswered questions about Tim’s life gave her new purpose. She needed to understand Tim’s message and secret life without any resentment. She loved him so much; she did not want to believe he was not the man she thought he was.

  Her eye stopped at the crest above Nathaniel Hall’s main entrance. It was the college logo from 1867, the date the college was founded but something was different about it. She had never noticed this particular logo; it had thirteen stars around the top and the wings of an eagle in the middle of an open book.

  She pulled out her business card. There were no stars or eagle’s wings on the regular logo. She walked past this entrance a hundred times, and it never caught her attention. The ID card in Tim’s briefcase displayed an unusual seal, and she searched online to find it without success. The seal resembled a combination of symbols from other agencies. The Defense Intelligence Agency crest had thirteen stars in a semicircle across the top of the seal, and the Central Intelligence Agency exhibited the wings. She took her iPhone out, snapped a photo of the crest, and walked through Nathaniel Hall, a building she traversed hundreds of times with fresh eyes.

  She inhaled the smell of time. Old buildings…captured and held tight an aroma in their walls. The gritty smell reminding Kendall of dampness, woods and sweat. This post Civil War structure absorbed almost 150 years of changing environments, weather, and souls. She climbed the empty steps, and placed her key in the lock to the conference room. Andrew’s key, bestowed on her when he retired, passing on the responsibility of finding a new co-chair for their unofficial committee of like-minded people and sharing ideas.

  The hundred and fifty-year-old wooden door creaked as she pushed it open; it had been six months since Dr. A retired. She smiled as she closed the door, and looked out the window. She drew in the air, thinking to herself she could smell his after-shave and he would magically appear in the doorway. She rolled out the four pages of blueprint, trying to connect each sheet like a puzzle.

  It resembled a series of tunnels. One tunnel appeared to be under a large building not connecting to the others. The other three were long and narrow, a hallway with classrooms or offices on each side. They overlaid each other as if they represented the first, second, and third floor. On the fourth sheet she noticed stars, wing symbol, and numbers on the bottom of the map. Longitude and latitude coordinates. She was sure of it. She looked up those exact sets of numbers.

  She pulled out her phone. She downloaded the latitude and longitude app last night, and she knew, before she entered the numbers, exactly what the location would be. The tiny red dot landed on the town of Westminster, 2 College Hill, Westminster, Maryland. Western Maryland College.

  Frozen, her mind swirled. She rolled the blueprints and exited the building. It was time to visit her favorite professor. Just then her phone buzzed, and she could see the call was from Mexico. Scout?

  “Hello, this is Kendall.” She paused, looking down at her chest, as if she could see her heart beating a little faster.

  “Hi Kendall, it’s Scout.” She pictured him standing in his dive shop office, a smile on his face, carefree in beach shorts and a cut-off shirt, with a baseball cap on and probably a little ponytail hanging out the back. “How are things in Maryland?”

  “Things are interesting, but fine,” she replied, laughing from nervousness. “I bet you’re looking at the water right now.”

  “Yes, it’s gorgeous, another beautiful day in paradise.”

  “I never knew you called, I mean I never got your message.” She paused. “I would have liked to say goodbye.”

  Silence. “I would have liked to say goodbye as well.” The connection seemed to be delayed, making it a little awkward, and they both started talking at the same time. Scout laughed. “You go.”

  Kendall waited, then began. “I wanted to ask you a question, about a location down there. I found some notes from Tim, with longitude and latitude coordinates. It appears it is marking a spot near Puerto Morelos, close to you but in the middle of nowhere, actually in the middle of the jungle. If I give you the numbers, can you look it up on your computer?”

  Silence again. “Scout, can you hear me?”

  “Yes, I can hear you, let me go over to the computer. What are the numbers?” She read him the numbers; again there was a long pause.

  Scout started speaking. “Kendall, I don’t know how to tell you this, but you know how I told you in my message, there was something I needed to discuss with you?”

  “Yes?”

  He continued. “Well, it’s like this. I’m not sure how to say this…” Another long pause. “Tim…wanted me to take Ryder to a different cenote. When Tim and I met, he gave me a small, very old map of a cenote, I nev
er knew existed. No one did. It’s extremely remote and takes about three or four days to get back to, maybe longer.” Another long pause. “On that first day, when you and Ryder showed up, Ryder didn’t even know he was going camping. And both of you looked like you didn’t even want to go camping. It would have been an extensive trip and…I made a judgment call not to take you to the difficult one. It was a poor decision on my part; I know that now. So, no excuses.” Another pause. “It’s been eating me alive. I wanted to tell you, a hundred times. But my offer is this, if you and Ryder want to come back down, I will take you to that cenote, the one I should have shown you in the beginning. And it’s all on me, the plane fare, everything, your husband was more than generous with me, and I’m sorry, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth. Please forgive me.”

  Kendall was stunned, perplexed, and speechless. “Well, what’s so special about that particular cenote?”

  Scout answered, “I don’t know…but that’s the location you just had me look up.”

  Kendall managed to go through the motions of work. She telephoned Dr. A, and he agreed to meet her for a drink after work. She wanted to call Ryder, but she knew she needed to figure things out. What is going on?

  The briefcase, the cenote, all of these secrets couldn’t be happening to her—an average everyday normal college employee. It was as if she were watching herself on film, seeing what her next move would be. She experienced this distancing before. Days, weeks, even months after Tim had been declared dead, she would walk into a grocery store and look at the man in line in front of her, or see a woman laughing and jogging while she was walking Harvey, and she wondered, did they realize what was happening in her life? Was it written all over her face? An overwhelming sensation of being in the present space but being detached from it all and sure everyone could see it. Walking around in the world as an outsider looking in.