Shadows 03 Greek Shadows

by K C West

  “Insomnia must be contagious tonight,” I whispered.

  He stepped out, wearing only a pair of boxer shorts. “I thought I heard you guys. What are you doing up so late?”

  “Too much on our minds,” PJ said. “We couldn’t sleep.”

  “Me neither. The promise of what we might find in that passage makes it hard to sleep.”

  “Where’s Irini?”

  “Oh, she had to go into Athens. Some family thing.”

  “Since you’re all alone, how about a cup of Earl Grey?” I asked. “Considering the hour, we’ll make it decaf.” “Sure. Your place or mine?”

  “Ours,” I told him, “since our project leader left us a huge supply.”

  “Geez, what a thoughtful guy.”

  PJ snickered. “We think so, even if he doesn’t get enough sleep.”

  “Okay, I’ll get some cookies and… urn…” He hugged his bare chest. “I’ll be there as soon as I get into a shirt and pants.”

  “No need. You can see we’re pretty casual.”

  She was in old cut-off jeans and a blue sports bra, and I wore my standard sleepwear while away from home - a pair of well-worn scrubs.

  Sandy joined us in our tent, and after an hour of socializing, he yawned a few times. PJ and I agreed that we were relaxed enough to get some sleep. Before parting, however, all three of us vowed to continue such impromptu gatherings whenever necessary.

  *

  “Ommmmm, Shanti, Shanti, Shanti. Ommmmmm, Shanti, Shanti, Shanti.” Two nights later, I was in our tent in the padmasana, the lotus position, determined to free my mind of the excitement surrounding us. Rest was not easy when thoughts constantly flitted in and out of my brain. I had read that Om in Sanskrit is spelled “aum,” and each letter was a sacred symbol. As I attempted to balance my mind, body, and spirit, I reflected on the self in a material world, the psychic realm, and the indwelling spiritual light. I heard Kim’s breath catch, and I opened my eyes in time to see her grabbing her lower back.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Those darn chairs in Sandy’s tent. I’m stiff from sitting in them, and now I’ve got a major kink.”

  That was all I needed to hear. I popped right out of my meditative posture and kneeled at her side.

  “Lie down on your stomach.”

  After much grimacing, she was positioned. I placed my hands on her firm, thinly-covered rear end. “Let me take care of it.” Suddenly, I was meditating on a whole new subject. Kim certainly had a buff looking butt I was reluctant to move my hands.

  “PJ, the problem is in my back. You know, a little higher up.”

  “Sorry. I got distracted.” Straddling her hips, I pushed her shirt up to expose the lower lumbar area and started massaging. “How’s this?”

  “Mmm. Feels much better. Keep it up.”

  “Hold on a second. Let me get some lotion. That’ll make it feel even better.” I padded over to our supplies. Pup stirred and rolled over. He snuffled softly, dreaming no doubt, of Greeks bearing gifts of large soup bones.

  I squeezed a good-sized portion of mango-scented fluid into my palm and gazed at that luscious butt again. It was so hard to concentrate. She turned her head at that moment and caught my rather lecherous expression.

  “Hiya, gorgeous.” My voice sounded husky, even to my ears.

  “Save it for when I don’t hurt.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I resumed my massage, working all the muscles with equal attention. I finished her lower lumbar region, unhooked her bra, and worked my way upward over her exposed skin.

  “Gods, that feels so good. You are wonderful with your hands. Have I ever told you that?”

  “As a matter of fact, you have.” I placed a kiss on the wide expanse of her back, realizing the remark could be taken several ways.

  “What a dirty mind you have tonight, PJ.” She turned her head toward me. “Lucky for you, I love dirty-minded blondes.”

  “Do you? I haven’t heard you saying as much lately.”

  She frowned. “Is that true? Haven’t I told you that I love you today?”

  “Nope. But it’s still early. There’s time.” I continued working.

  “I do love you, you know.”

  “I know. And I love you, too… very, very much.”

  A contented silence followed, during which I remembered when we had first met. “Kimmy, when did you first feel attracted to me?”

  “Funny, I was thinking along those same lines. I think it was when I saw that picture of you in a bikini in People.”

  I gave her back a light slap. “Go on! You didn’t. You did? Really?”

  “Uh-huh. And when I read your paper on tools and artifacts of the Alibates Flint Quarries.”

  “Oh, now I know you’re joking.”

  “I swear it. I saw that picture and two days later read that article. I knew, then and there, you were a woman with beauty and brains.”

  “Geez, I’m flattered, even though I know you never read People. Besides, I didn’t know you cared so deeply about Clovis points. And other things.”

  “I did, too, read People… as a diversion when I was standing in checkout lines.”

  “If you were so interested, why didn’t you contact me?”

  “Because I assumed you were straight.”

  “Mmm. Yes, there was that.” I pulled her shirt back into place.

  “And, we didn’t exactly get off on the right foot.”

  “True.” Kim had been convinced that I’d seduced Sandy on my first afternoon in Apache Junction, and she was understandably indignant.

  “So, when did you first become attracted to me?”

  I kept her waiting, but I knew. “It was when Sandy and the guys and I arrived on the site in the Superstitions that first day. I saw you working with the students, and I was so impressed with the rapport you had with them, the way they respected you.”

  “Interesting.”

  “When did you know it was love you were feeling for me, Doc?”

  She exhaled. “Now that’s a little harder to pin down. Was it when you threw up all over my cactus garden?”

  “Oh, God.”

  “Or, was it when you told that reporter about the expedition and got it spread all over the news?”

  “Geez.”

  “Nope. I think it was when you tried to confess your guilt to your father. I got a real shock that night, when I saw how things were between you and him. That took real courage, and I loved you for it.”

  “Aw. But you didn’t let me take the blame.”

  “You were willing to, and that was enough for me. So, when did you know you were in love with me?”

  I gave her butt a pat. “I’m still deciding.”

  She rolled her hips, nearly tossing me off our mattress.

  “Hey, take it easy. You’ll undo all my good massage work.”

  “Come on, PJ. When did you know?”

  “It was a gradual thing, I guess. Let me think. I knew when I kissed you after Thanksgiving dinner and had to confront you on site about it later. Remember how you ran away from me like a big chicken?”

  “Hey, I thought you were straight.”

  “But I wasn’t. At least not where you were concerned. It just took me a while to realize it. I had spent a good deal of time trying to sleep with every male in the New England area, and for that matter, around the world. I kept wondering why I didn’t feel anything significant with any one of them. I didn’t know early on, like you did.”

  She folded her arms under her cheek, turning her head to the other side. “Let me tell you, love, knowing you’re different at an early age can be a real bitch.”

  I slid off her hips. The discussion had just moved into uncharted territory. I had been curious about her youth, but she had never talked about it. I stretched out beside her, pulling the covers over us. “What was it like for you, growing up?”

  Her eyes closed and, for a few moments, I thought she had shut me out, again. “I grew up with parents who co
uldn’t accept me as different, as gay. My father and brother refused to have anything to do with me. My mother hoped I’d grow out of it. We lived in a small town in the Midwest. The saying, ‘small towns, small minds,’ fit Plainfield perfectly, at least when it came to sexual preference. I think my mother mellowed a bit, just before she died, but not Father or my brother Kurt. Eight years ago, when my father died, Kurt sent me a card, but that was to tell me I would not be welcome at the funeral.”

  “Jesus. I’m sorry.” I stroked the side of her jaw and pulled us together for a kiss.

  “Yeah, well. It’s in the past now. Let’s just say I didn’t have a very loving childhood and let it go at that.”

  “Wasn’t there anyone you could talk to?”

  “No people. Only Rusty, my cocker spaniel. He was my constant companion. I used to talk to him when things got too bad. We’d hide out in the shed or go fishing in the creek. Rusty never let me down. He didn’t care if I was straight, gay, or alien.”

  “You’ve always loved dogs?”

  “Yes. They don’t judge you. They just try to please you and love you, no matter what.” Her voice softened. “That’s what got Rusty killed.”

  “Oh, Geez. I didn’t mean for this to bring back painful memories.”

  “What it brings back is disgust and anger when I think of those punks.” Her jaw tightened. So much for the gentle massage and the warm thoughts of love I had hoped to instill. “Four jerks from junior high school used to tease me. I never went to dances or made goo-goo eyes over them when they played football. I wasn’t the least bit interested in them, and they knew it. One day, they followed me home from town. It was just before the Fourth of July. A couple of the guys had the little snapping firecrackers that come joined together in a string. They shut me up in the shed and tossed a lit string of them inside. Rusty tried to defend me and got badly burned. I was so enraged that, when I got out of the shed, I beat all four of them to a pulp and sent them racing home with bloody noses.” Tears welled up and she swiped them away.

  “Oh, God.” I fought off my own tears, thinking of her pain. If Kim had been able to consult Susanna then, Susanna might have suggested anger management. But hell, that was a time when anger was appropriate and justified, at least in my opinion.

  “I wish I could tell you Rusty recovered - that I got him to the vet in time - but he was in too much pain.” Kim’s eyes burned with intensity. Pup stood up and came over to lick her face. She hugged his neck.

  A wave of anxiety hit me, and I fought to control it. “I have to wash this lotion off my hands, honey.” I planted a kiss on her cheek. “You know if I could make it all better, I would.”

  “I know. Thanks.”

  “I can’t bear to see you in pain. It tears me up inside.”

  She nodded her head. It was obvious to me she was still shaken. “I feel the same way about you. Seeing you hurt makes me go crazy. I felt that way when I wanted to kill Terry for what she did to you.”

  I paused at the tent flap and turned. “Kimmy, please. Can we not talk about that right now?” I tried to find a calm image to concentrate on. “This’ll just take a moment. Okay?”

  “Sure thing.”

  “Save me a spot?”

  She rubbed her chest. “Right here next to my heart.”

  “Love you.”

  “Me too. I’m sorry you’re upset right now, but I’m here for you.”

  “Always?”

  “Forever, PJ.”

  *

  When I returned to our tent about twenty minutes later, I felt calmer, and Kim was nearly asleep. She pulled me close when I slid onto the mattress facing her. Pup shook himself and settled into a contented comma on his bed.

  “Feeling better now?” Kim’s hands made light feathery strokes across my back.

  “Much. How about you?”

  “I’m good, but I think we both needed a time out. Things got a little too intense.”

  “My fault. I made you relive some bad times and when you got upset, it sent my anxiety meter soaring.”

  “You didn’t mean to, honey. I was surprised to have such strong feelings surface after all these years.”

  “One thing I’ve learned from my weeks in therapy: You just never know when something painful is going to surface. I guess we’re both sensitive to certain memories.”

  Kim kissed me gently. “We’re still learning about each other. I think after a few decades we’ll have it all worked out.”

  I returned her kiss. “You’re willing to stick with me for that long, then?”

  “Absolutely. One thing I’ve learned by having you in my life is that love makes all the difference.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.” I rested my head against her chest. “Will you hold me until I fall asleep?”

  She wrapped me in her arms and touched her lips to my forehead. “Always.”

  Chapter 7

  Days turned into weeks, with the labyrinth slowly revealing bits and pieces of its secrets. PJ and I joined the crew in exploring numerous side passages and niches. It was slow, painstaking work. Using the electrical facilities near the entrance and linking power cords together, we were able to explore over nine hundred meters, counting the numerous side passages and rooms. Beyond that distance, we relied on powerful flashlights, lanterns, and spelunker style headlamps attached to our hardhats.

  The structure so far was in remarkably good condition and had been pronounced safe, with only two places requiring reinforcement. Forty meters from the entrance, the initial passage curved to the right where two side passages veered away from the main one. The first dead-ended at twenty-five meters. PJ, Gregor, Niklas, and I proceeded slowly, aware that one misstep could destroy something of vital importance. Because we were forced to progress deliberately, we had not yet ventured to the end of the second passage, nor had we followed the main one.

  PJ and I stood peering into what looked like an entrance to a low-ceilinged storage room, no larger than five by three meters. “What do you think?”

  She pointed. “There are some jars in there, against the back wall. Let’s check them out.”

  Before I could suggest she wait for a safety inspection, she crawled into the narrow passage. “Come on. It’s okay.”

  “Wait!” I handed her a pair of lightweight covers for her shoes. “I don’t see any prints, but we don’t want to disturb the floor too much.” I put some on and gave a pair to Niklas and Gregor.

  Dust filtered downward from the ceiling as we maneuvered laboriously within the tight space. I followed PJ to the back wall. “Being short has certain advantages right about now,” I said, when forced to bend my head in order to stand upright. The room was no more than a niche in the wall of the main passageway, a cache for whatever was stored in the vessels, two rows of which stood just as they could have quite easily been placed many centuries before. A third row had been started. Two of those vessels lay tipped over, but undamaged. Another one, possibly two, had broken, and the shattered pieces were scattered about the floor.

  I motioned to Niklas and Gregor to join us in the alcove. We moved to the side, allowing them space to take pictures, measure, and chart the location and position of the jars and shards. They were both slight of build and maneuvered easily in cramped quarters.

  “Can we peek inside?” PJ was eager to see what was in the vessels.

  “I wouldn’t disturb anything until Sandy has had a chance to examine everything.”

  “I suppose.”

  We concentrated our light near the mouth of one of the tipped over jars.

  I lightly touched my fingers to the dirt. “Looks like some kind of grain.”

  PJ tapped a couple of the standing vessels with her fingers. “Metal and pottery both.” She turned to me. “Isn’t that strange?”

  “Unusual, but not necessarily strange.” Careful to hold it only by the edges, I picked up a shard of the broken jar and blew off the loose dust. “This appears older than I would have expected. Minoan per
haps.”

  “How did it get here?”

  “Probably passed down through the generations. Hard to tell anything until we investigate further.”

  “Maybe someone got them at a local flea market,” she said.

  The ceiling appeared stable despite the occasional dust sifting down on top of us. We examined the floor for ancient footprints. If there were any, centuries of fine dust had long since covered them. The hair peeking out from under our hard hats was matted with it, and it coated our faces, hands, and clothing.

  We waited in silence for Gregor to finish up. It was so quiet in the alcove that we could hear each other’s breathing and the scratching of Gregor’s pen on paper. PJ moved closer to me.

  “Do you feel anything?”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know. It’s silly, but it’s as if we’re being watched.”

  “Ghosts. They don’t like us messing with their grain,” I said, making light of her remark.

  “No, it’s something else.”

  Glancing sideways at her, I realized that she had been serious, and I regretted my flippant remark.

  “I’m finished for now,” Gregor told me.

  “Then let’s get out of here and call it a day,” I said.

  *

  Once outside in the sunshine, we dared to take deep breaths. “You okay?” I asked PJ.

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “I don’t know. You were quiet on the way out.”

  “Must have been a touch of claustrophobia.” She wrinkled her nose. “Isn’t that something for the books, an archaeologist with claustrophobia?”

  “That’s something all right.” I was relieved to see the return of her normal lighthearted demeanor.

  We entered our tent, where Pup greeted us in his typical boisterous fashion.

  PJ dropped to her knees to give him hugs and belly rubs. Then she looked up at me. “Kim?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you think we could take Pup with us into the labyrinth?”

  Obviously, she wasn’t as fine as she’d have me believe. I thought for a moment. “I don’t see why not, as long as he’s on a tight leash. We don’t want him bounding about in there.”

  “He won’t be a problem.”

  “Fine, then.” I was going to talk with Sandy about Frederick’s arrival date. Maybe he could get here a little sooner and be a comfort to PJ. Now, though, it was time to change the subject. “Cup of Earl Grey?”