Beneath

by Maureen A. Miller

  As they enjoyed the soda and discussed their covert plan for New Year’s night, Colin held up a finger.

  “Wait. I have one more surprise.”

  Curious, Stella set her can down on the boulder and clasped her hands together.

  “I can’t even imagine. Peanut butter cups, I hope.”

  “No, not that good.” He grinned. He disappeared behind the boulder and reappeared with his hand behind his back.

  “Here.” He pulled it out and extended a folded paper to her.

  It was yellowed and torn, but there was evidence of black text on it. Sensing its age and fragility, she took it with care and gingerly flipped it over.

  A good amount of the text was blurred, but the header was remarkably intact.

  “Boston Evening Globe,” she read, tracing her finger over the 1 cent-Evening Edition note in the top corner. “Oh my God, it is from 1917. How is that possible?”

  “Margie said they found it down here a long time ago. It was inside a foot locker, and they have since wrapped it in plastic. She wants it back, but she let me have it for tonight.”

  Stella gaped at the headline.

  LUSITANIA SUNK.

  One of her many fascinations was with sunken ships. Kind of an irony given her current plight. She thought about it, and even Colin had to have known that she was a Titanic buff. Just a few weeks ago there was an auction for a handwritten letter from someone aboard the Titanic. She told her mother she wished she had a spare hundred thousand dollars because she wanted to bid on it. Her mother shook her head and laughed.

  “Not known how many passengers saved…” she continued to read. She glanced up. “Could you imagine if some of them ended up down here?”

  “Yes,” Colin nodded. “After all we’ve seen, I sure could imagine that.”

  Stella’s mouth still hung open in awe.

  “Col, this–this–”

  “You like?” He winked.

  She took great care to set the paper down gently on the boulder. As soon as it was at rest she lunged at Colin and wrapped her arms around his neck.

  “I like,” she vowed. “I like.”

  CHAPTER 19

  New Year’s Day.

  The energy could be felt in the café as everyone gathered for lunch. That energy stemmed from mixed motives, however. For Colin and Stella anxiety mounted with every passing minute. Their plan was to attempt their escape tonight after the festivities.

  Donald Wexler seemed tense, undoubtedly preparing for his part in the getaway. Jill chatted with Daniel, but both their heads were ducked, precluding anyone from hearing their conversation. Loren sat at the end of the table with her legs crossed as she scooped a spoonful of small spongy creatures into her mouth.

  Stella’s stomach rolled. Whether it was from the cuisine or nerves she wasn’t very hungry. Nonetheless, she too spooned in a mouthful of crustaceans. She would need her strength. If they made it to the surface there was no telling how long, or if they would be spotted. Their supplies would be limited. She had to eat now. Beside her, Colin seemed to have the same thoughts as he devoured what was left on his plate. His fingers touched her thigh below the table–just a physical contact to say, I’m here with you.

  “All right, everyone.” Margie rose, her ceramic tea cup in her hand. “A little early toast and then I need you all to retire until Jordan and I complete the final preparations. Today we will have a rarely heard extra bell. When you hear the bell next, it will signify the start of the celebration.” She beamed.

  “For now, though,” she raised the cup, “I leave you with a simple Happy New Year message. Another year in the Underworld has come and gone and though we have lost someone,” she dipped her head to acknowledge Don, “we have all kept our health. We continue to thrive–”

  Thrive?

  “–and we have each other to thank for that.” Margie turned towards Etienne on the final comment.

  The gaunt, stony face cracked into a rare smile as he lifted his copper cup.

  “And to our new residents,” she added with tempered animation, “we welcome you and look forward to celebrating many more New Year’s with you.”

  Jill raised her glass hesitantly. Stella followed to keep up pretenses, as did Colin. Don clasped his fingers around his mug, staring at it until everyone grew uncomfortable. Finally, with great exaggeration he hoisted it into the air and boomed, “Hear, hear!”

  Colin dropped his head, avoiding eye contact with everyone. He thanked Margie for her hard work and then excused himself.

  Stella uttered a hasty, “I’ll see you after the bell,” and followed him.

  The café cleared out quickly, with everyone retiring to their dwellings.

  Jill and her father trailed a few steps behind Colin and Stella. They all returned to the boathouse.

  “Well–” Don forced a grin, “–that was awkward. “I just may need one of the cocktails they claim they’ll have at this party.”

  Jill looked at him anxiously.

  “Don’t worry, Princess. Only one. I know what I have to do tonight.”

  “Daniel said he will help you,” she murmured, keeping her voice low in case there were unwanted ears outside.

  Don nodded approvingly. “I got a chance to talk to him today. Seems pretty knowledgeable, and he told me himself that he would help.”

  Jill smiled, relieved.

  “Are you two ready?” His voice was level, his blue eyes intent.

  Colin nodded. “Stel and I have been back there several times. We think it’s sound, and we’re comfortable with the interior weight release. Daniel came with us once and he’s going to help you navigate the submersible out into the water and cut the weights.”

  Colin walked over to his bedding area and drew two wood-sheathed blades from beneath his blanket.

  “We’ve tried sharpening these as best we could with rocks and sand. We did a test by cutting a thick coil of rope and it went well. Of course, sodden rope underwater, and being under duress is a whole other story.”

  Don waved that off. “We’ll get it. I promise.”

  The two male Wexlers considered each for a long time. Don was the first to crack a smile. It burgeoned into a proud beam, and Stella could tell it inspired Col.

  “So,” Col summarized, “our biggest concern is going to be the rate of ascent. The water resistance alone should slow us down some. It will be in the timing of releasing the second set of weights. There’s a handheld radio inside the sub, but of course, no power, so it’s of no use. We should have enough oxygen to make it to the surface, and if we do make it to the surface, we’ll have to throw the hatch open and pray it’s not raining.”

  So many ifs. So many variables. Stella stared down at her fingers. They trembled until Colin folded his hand over hers.

  “You don’t have to do this,” he asserted. “Stel, please, if you’re scared, please stay here with my family.”

  She chewed on her bottom lip, but lifted her head high.

  “You’re going to need help. Even if it’s just a fist pump and an atta boy.”

  Colin looked conflicted, but his hand squeezed hers.

  Outside, the bell tolled. Two rings. As if the bell was not enough, Margie’s boisterous voice could be heard, “Come out, come out!”

  Colin searched Stella’s eyes. There was so much conveyed in his meaningful gaze. She smiled in return, feeling confident for the first time. This was it. No matter what happened, she wanted to try. She didn’t want to be a victim. She wanted to control her fate. She clutched his hand and her smile grew. Reading her face, he relaxed and managed a swift grin. His view extended to take in his sister, and then his father. Wordlessly, they reached for each other, folding into a group hug.

  “This is going to be some New Year’s party,” Don murmured inside the pack.

  A small trickle of laughter sounded.

  Jill slipped her arm tight around Stella’s waist. “You be safe, Gullaksen, do you hear me? You take care of my brother and yo
u both make it. You make it.”

  Stella released Colin’s hand to squeeze her friend tight. It was agreed that Jill would stay behind later along with Loren in an attempt to distract the others from spotting the departure.

  “Come on, everyone!” Margie yelled again with a little desperation in her summons.

  “We better go,” Stella murmured. “We have a party to attend.”

  With one final collusive smile, they all turned to leave the hull. Outside, Stella gasped at the sight. The café was alight with an array of candles. Candles were on the tables along with various centerpieces, such as large ceramic bowls, one filled with fake plastic flowers. The bits of shiny metal hanging from the artificial tree sparkled with the reflection of the flames. More handmade bows littered the tables, and as she got closer, Stella saw bottles of liquor and cans of soda. Every indulgence that was monitored so closely was now free for consumption.

  Daniel appeared at Jill’s side and looped an arm around her waist. Loren stood at the cabinets in the café, lining up glasses of odd shapes and sizes.

  Frederic hiked down the trail, carrying something Stella couldn’t identify. As he approached she recognized a ukulele. It only had two strings, but it looked festive. Even the man himself was in full uniform. The gold pendants on his navy jacket polished until they shined.

  “Happy New Year!” he called out congenially.

  Jordan, looking dapper in a stained white long-sleeved shirt and frayed khaki pants clapped the man on his back.

  “Happy New Year, Fred.”

  Frederic winced at the nickname, but his smile swiftly returned.

  All heads turned as Etienne and Sarah made their way down the path, arm in arm. Sarah had replaced her staple uniform with a pale blue dress that fell nearly to her ankles. She still wore her flat nurse’s shoes, but everyone focused on her hair which was down, long and waving over her shoulders. She still looked painfully thin, but the smile she wore was the best enhancement to her appearance.

  Etienne looked formal in his dark blue pea coat. He raised a pipe in salute and called out, “Happy New Year.”

  Stella glanced down at the white dress she had thrown over her shorts and tank top. It was her attempt to be ceremonious, yet maintain an escape outfit.

  “Come, come,” Margie waved her arms, urging them towards the confluence of lopsided tables in the café.

  She looked silly, but festive in her pink feathered boa and floppy red beret. She still wore her capri pants and sported a tattered red sweater with a few sizeable holes in it.

  “Loren is our bartender tonight. Everyone grab a drink as I get the surprise ready.”

  Stella grabbed a 7 Up, trying to keep her mind as sharp as possible. Don reached for what appeared to be a can of beer. There was a tall black bottle that Jordan seized, warning everyone to stand back as he popped the cork. Even prepared, the loud bang startled her.

  All of a sudden, music filled the tiny glade. Stella swung her head to see Margie’s tarnished teeth flashing as she swept her hands towards a prehistoric contraption.

  “A wind-up gramophone!” She clapped in delight. “I’ve been hiding this gem for quite some time. Jordan and I found it shortly after last year’s party. And this–” She cocked her head, humming to the music, “–is the Beatles for those of you too young to know.”

  The record was severely warped and the fat needle bobbed unevenly atop it. Still, the lyrics were identifiable.

  It’s been a hard day’s night…

  Amen to that, she thought.

  Jordan crossed over and grabbed his wife’s hand, drawing her outside the ring of the café to a flat spot where they could dance. The moves were comical and certainly not in sync with the music, but they made Stella laugh. Frederic rushed forward and changed the record when it was done. There appeared to be a pile consisting of four or five pieces of vinyl. The selection would be minimal, but it certainly energized the atmosphere.

  At the next upbeat song, Jill grabbed Daniel’s hands and urged him to dance. He shook his head back and forth, quite adamant in his denial. She dropped his hands but danced in a circle around him until he, too, was smiling.

  Frederic picked up his ukulele and attempted to play along with what must have been Elvis Presley or one of those rock and roll guys. With two strings it sounded more like a pogo stick, but everyone was laughing and clapping.

  Loren put on the next record and there was a ballad of sorts. The warped record made the crooning voice sound out of tune, but it didn’t stop Jordan from circling his arms around his wife as they slid into an awkward waltz.

  Etienne took Sarah’s hand and began to slowly drift back and forth to the music. Their arms were stiff, their bodies barely touching, but they were smiling. Stella supposed that was the most romance Sarah would ever get from that man.

  To her surprise, Stella felt Colin tap her on the shoulder.

  “May I have this dance?” he grinned in that sexy way of his.

  Stella blushed and nodded. She felt his arm slip around her back and his other hand guide hers up to his shoulder. The tune didn’t matter. They rolled lazily to it until she relaxed and rested her head against his collarbone, feeling his body sway as she matched the rhythm. Stella opened her eyes to see that Jill had finally convinced Daniel to give it a try. He held her, but his body shifted stiffly until Jill finally coaxed a rhythmic motion out of him.

  Loren accepted Frederic’s invitation as Don stood on the sidelines, sipping his beer. Stella continued to rest against Colin’s shoulder, feeling the pulse at the bottom of his throat against her forehead. She burrowed closer, never wanting to let go. This might be their first and last dance together.

  The music ended all too quickly, but was replenished with another ballad. Stella looked up into Colin’s eyes.

  “Give me a moment, but please don’t go far. I want to do that again.”

  Colin looked curious as she backed away, and then he smiled when he saw her intentions. Stella walked up to Colin’s father and said, “Mr. Wexler, may I have this dance?”

  Don looked startled and then a slow smile crept over his lips.

  “I didn’t dress up for the party,” he explained, glancing down at his white t-shirt and shorts.

  “It’s an informal affair,” she whispered in conspiracy.

  Don took her hand and held it high, while he maintained a light touch on her hip. They danced awkwardly to the warped music, but it was worth it to see a smile on Don’s face. It was worth it to catch the approving grin on Colin’s as they drifted by him.

  At the end of the song, Col appeared. “Can I have her back?” he asked.

  Don nodded, and looked at Stella. “Thank you,” he said earnestly. He moved his gaze to his son. “You take care of her. She’s special.”

  “I know she is,” Col agreed. And then his arms were around her even though the music had stopped.

  All things considered, it turned out to be an enjoyable evening. If nothing else, it was the perfect distraction for the nerves and adrenaline that were slowly creeping in.

  “Okay, everyone.” Margie waved her arms to corral her flock. “Loren has poured us all glasses of champagne. Please grab one and take it over to the bell. Frederic will be ringing in the New Year!”

  They filed past the café cabinet, each picking up a glass as they marched down the path to the brass bell hanging from the pinnacle wall. Forming a semicircle around it they watched as Frederic made a theatrical motion to check his watch. He had no such adornment on his wrist. With a big grin, he held up five fingers and shouted, “Five!” as one finger dropped. “Four.” Another finger dropped.

  The group joined in, shouting, “Three. Two. One.”

  With a wiggle of his golden eyebrows Frederic grabbed the rope and yanked. The clang sounded like the song of an ancient ship. At that evocative peal, a cheer rang out. Margie screeched and hugged Jordan. She then spun around and squeezed Frederic in a bear hug. After that she formed a queue and embraced everyo
ne.

  Jill stepped up to her father and hugged him and then spun around to embrace Daniel. Colin raised his eyebrow at Stella. She shrugged and laughed and then looped her arms around his neck.

  “Happy New Year,” he whispered into her ear.

  He held her tight, and she clung to him, suddenly trembling with nerves. The time was imminent.

  Etienne and Sarah moved down the line congratulating everyone on the occasion. When they reached Colin and Stella, Etienne lingered. He took Colin’s hand and shook it emphatically.

  “Perhaps this year you will have more faith in us.”

  “Perhaps.” Colin held his grip, and then added, “And perhaps you’ll have a little more faith in us.”

  Etienne bowed his head and dropped his hand. “Perhaps,” he murmured as he backed away and announced that he and Sarah were retiring for the night.

  Don immediately made a similar announcement after saluting everyone.

  Margie then leaned in, her cheeks flushed from celebration. “Well, for the rest of us, the party is just getting started. Let’s head back to the café. We’ve got a few bottles to finish.”

  Jordan latched his hands onto her waist and hollered, “Conga line!”

  He started humming a drum beat and Frederic, also looking a bit toasty latched onto his hip with one hand, the other swinging in the air to beckon more followers.

  Jill stepped up to Colin and kissed him lightly on the cheek, whispering in his ear. She then looked at Stella with intense blue eyes that seemed more vibrant with the pool of tears around them. She touched Stella’s arm and mouthed the words, be safe.

  Wiping the tears away, she called out in great theatrical style, “I’m in!” and timidly grabbed Frederic’s waist as she danced off after them.

  Loren flashed a look at Stella and Colin and simply offered a perfunctory nod. Stella wanted to hug this sullen young woman. Without her they would never have had this opportunity.