by Kurt Newton
"Nothing I can't handle, Maria. Let's not talk about last night, okay? Let's talk about breakfast."
"That I can help you with."
"Hayley, Kirsty, and Saga slept over last night. I was hoping you could make us your special blueberry pancakes?" Lindsey needed something sweet to wipe the bitter taste out of her mouth.
Maria scowled. "For them, absolutely not!" Her scowl softened. "But for you, I will."
"Thank you, Maria, you're the best."
"I know."
Lindsey jumped off the stool and gave Maria a big hug.
"Lindsey, honey, is that you?" Mrs. Richmond called from the sunroom.
Lindsey rolled her eyes. "Yes, Mom."
"Come in here, I want to talk with you."
Lindsey grabbed a cup of coffee. "Lindsey, honey," she mocked.
Maria pointed a dishrag at her. "Now you be nice. She's your mother."
Lindsey felt like saying, "No, Maria, you've been my mother. If it wasn't for you I'd probably be just like her." But Lindsey kept those thoughts to herself as she left the kitchen.
Elizabeth Richmond sat in her usual place, drinking her usual morning coffee in her usual floral-pattern mug, reading her usual morning paper. She was so predictable it was difficult to take her seriously anymore. For Lindsey it was like watching a television rerun of a character she once found puzzling, but whose mannerisms and dialogue she now found annoying.
"There you are, sweetheart. Did your friends have a good time last night?"
"Mom, I'll save you the trouble of tiptoeing your way to what you really want to know. Did Jared leave a favorable impression? Impression? Yes. Favorable?" She shook her head. "Do you really think that's what I want?"
"Honey, you're young, I think you don't know what you want. I think this fling you're having with that carpenter —"
"His name is Ethan, and it's not a fling, we're in love."
"In love?" Mrs. Richmond laughed. "You're not in love, dear. You're in lust. He's a good looking boy, and I'm sure he looks even better with his shirt off, but that's no reason to throw your life away. Once you get him out of your system, you'll realize just how silly you're behaving."
"Is that how it was with you and Dad? Was he the safe choice? The straight and narrow? Did you settle, Mom? Did you ever really love Dad? Is that why you can't stand that I follow my heart and not my check book?"
Her mother stared at her as if she were looking at a stranger. But she quickly recovered. The calculating, manipulative glint was back in her eye. She inhaled deeply.
"Of course I loved your father. He was a wonderful man. He was everything I could have asked for. And, yes, he was safe. But he was also strong. And sweet. And, on occasion, very passionate."
"Mom, please, it's too early in the morning."
"No, you have to hear this. There are some things you don't know about your father. You didn't know him when he was just a young man setting out to rule the world. He was so attractive. Not so much in a physical sense. He wasn't what you girls today would call a hottie —"
"Mom, please." Lindsey rolled her eyes.
"But he had something special...a drive...a sense of who he was and what he wanted out of life. He was ready to make a difference. And I loved him for that."
Lindsey sometimes forgot her mother had feelings too. Why couldn't they just behave like a normal mother and daughter? Why did they always have to be so combative? Lindsey took a deep breath.
"Okay, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."
Her mother's tone softened. "And I suppose I should just leave you alone about Ethan."
"Yeah, that would be nice."
"Even though he's off in the woods trying to find himself."
"Mother."
"Okay, enough said."
"More than enough."
"Are those blueberry pancakes I smell?"
"That reminds me." Lindsey took off to go wake up her friends.
13
When Ethan came to he smelled pine and dried leaves, and an underlying odor of shit. He opened his eyes.
A sharp slice of pain clamped his eyelids shut. Blindly, he felt his forehead. He discovered a Mount St. Helens-sized lump capped with a crust of dried blood near his hairline.
And then he remembered.
He had just pulled himself up onto the ledge. There were footsteps. The morning sun was blocked by a shadow...and then wham! Out cold.
That would explain the low-level hum he heard in his ears. He probably had a concussion.
He also remembered watching his backpack end up at the bottom of the ravine. His heart sank. That meant no phone, no maps and no food.
What the fuck? he thought, wincing as he opened his eyes again, this time prepared for the pain. He sat up, resting his back against a smooth cement wall. His head throbbed.
Pine branches lay strewn across a concrete floor. There were animal feces in among the clotted leaves. The walls and ceiling were painted the same battleship grey color. Two industrial light fixtures cast their pale light on the windowless enclosure.
What have I stumble into? Ethan thought. This was no ordinary basement or bomb shelter. The ceilings were way too high. It was more like a holding pen at a zoo.
He looked for a way out.
Across the room was a steel access door painted the same grey color as the walls. There was no knob. There also appeared to be a recessed panel in the adjacent wall at floor level. And in the ceiling Ethan noticed another panel, much larger; small pieces of pine bough were caught in its seam.
Ethan felt a pinch at the back of his neck. He reached up to find its source: a smooth, black metallic ring a half-inch thick encircled his neck.
Okay, really, what the fuck?
He also realized the wound to his shoulder had been cleaned and dressed, the tears to his shirt a visible reminder of the mountain lion's attack.
He wanted to call out but was afraid who might answer. He wanted to break down and cry but knew it wouldn't do any good. The sudden, heavy metallic snap of a lock disengaging sent his heart scrambling. Across the room the door opened.
In walked a tall thin man wearing a lab coat. By his side was a dog, a large dog with a wedged-shaped face. If Ethan was not mistaken the dog looked a lot like a wolf. They stopped just inside the entrance.
"Good morning..." The man held Ethan's driver's license up in front of his face and read from it. "Ethan Morales." That driver's license was in his backpack. Ethan had brought it along for identification, just in case anything should happen.
Ethan looked at the man, then at the wolf. He didn't know what to say. His mind was a mad jumble of thoughts, none of which made any sense.
"You're probably wondering why I brought you here," the man said. "Well, I didn't actually bring you here. You brought yourself. Backpacking solo is not a recommended activity in this neck of the woods. There are so many things that can happen. Bears. Lions. Me. Oh my."
"Who the hell are you?"
Ethan knew he was in trouble — deep shit kind of trouble — the kind of trouble one doesn't survive. So he had to be careful, keep his anger in check.
"I'm sorry, let me introduce myself. My name is Dr. Harrison Pike. I work for the U.S. government. You are in Pit #3 in a facility known only as Facility #9. In truth, this facility doesn't exist. I don't exist. And now that you're here, you no longer exist." He patted the wolf's head. "This is Wolf, my greatest accomplishment. My work with Wolf has been groundbreaking. But I've never had a human subject. At least not one that lived for very long."
Ethan couldn't believe what he was hearing. He stared at the wolf. He hadn't noticed before but the dog also had a black metallic ring around its neck. If he made a break for it now, Ethan thought, he just might have a chance. The doctor was his size but thinner. And the dog, even though it was a wolf, looked as docile as a family pet. He had successfully fended off a goddamned mountain lion, so maybe he could do this. Ethan slowly got to his feet.
"I would remain seate
d Ethan Morales..." The doctor pulled a TV remote-looking device out of his lab coat pocket.
"Or what?" Ethan said.
"Or this."
The doctor turned a dial on the remote and the wolf beside him suddenly transformed. Its eyes grew black, it's haunches raised, and it bared its teeth. The animal rushed toward Ethan, growling, and Ethan slammed his back against the wall and shrank down to the floor, his arms shielding his face. He fully expected the animal to start tearing at his flesh. But the animal didn't attack. It halted with its muzzle just inches from his face, the smell of raw meat wafting on its hot breath.
"Okay, okay, I get it! Make him stop!"
The doctor adjusted the remote and the canine once again transformed. The animal's muscles relaxed, its haunches smoothed — even its eyes reverted to its previous harmless-looking gaze. It stared at Ethan as if it now wanted to play. When Ethan lowered his guard, the wolf stepped forward and licked his face.
"Amazing, isn't it?" said Dr. Pike. "I've always wondered if my special collar will work on a man. A man hostile to his situation. Could I tame him? Make him as gentle as a puppy dog? I guess we'll see, won't we, Ethan Morales."
Pike whistled and the wolf turned and bolted out the door. Pike followed. The door clicked shut, the sound echoing inside the confines of the room.
The echo reminded Ethan just how far away from home he was. And if the doctor was telling the truth — if in fact this facility was off the grid, either camouflaged or buried in the mountain itself — no one would be able to find him. They would think the worst.
He thought about Lindsey. He thought about how she hadn't wanted him to go. He thought about how she was going to feel when he didn't show up as planned.
Now, Ethan did cry. He covered his face with his hands and let the tears flow. But anger quickly quelled them as he lashed out, slamming his fist against the wall.
"Fuck!"
He clung to that anger because he knew it would be the only thing that was going to help him in this situation. His brother would tell him to use it to his advantage. Use it to stay focused. Wait for the right situation; catch the enemy off guard, then strike.
Ethan wished his brother wasn't just a voice inside his head.
Relax.
His fist throbbed. He hoped he didn't break it. He stretched his fingers and made a fist again. It was fine. It hurt, but it was fine.
Pain is good. It means you're alive. Now look for a way out.
Ethan wiped the tears from his face and eyed the ceiling again. The panel above was just too high. He got to his feet.
He walked over to the panel in the far wall. He pushed on it, tried to slide it first one way then the other. Nothing doing.
He smelled something rotten, something other than shit. It smelled like a dead animal. He lifted a pine bough and found the source of the odor.
At first Ethan didn't know what it was. He poked at it with a stick and flipped it over. That's when he realized it was a foot — a paw — the front paw of a mountain lion. The bone and sinew at the ragged end looked as if it had been chewed.
A cold tightness gripped the pit of Ethan's stomach.
He turned and stared more intently at the ceiling of the enclosure. In one of the corners of the room was a small black bubble. He was being watched.
A slight vibration resonated through the floor. The low-level hum he had heard earlier in his ears increased.
He tried to think of nothing else but how to escape. He got himself into this mess; he would get himself out.
Pike stood before the Pit #3 monitor observing his new-found subject.
"The fifth day of July, the year two-thousand and eight, pit number three. Subject: male, twenty years of age, approximately one hundred ninety pounds. Initial dosage: 0.25 Hz, 10 mV. Time administered: ten hundred hours, thirty-two minutes."
Pike clicked off the recorder.
"What do you think, Wolf? Will he be missed?"
Wolf sat beside Pike. Pike reached into his pocket and handed Wolf a treat.
"I guess we'll need to wait and see." Pike raised a Swedish fish to his lips. He bit the head off first before placing the rest of the soft candy into his mouth.
On the monitor: Ethan paced the enclosure.
14
Breakfast was over. Lindsey walked Kirsty, Hayley, and Saga out to Hayley's mint green Toyota Camry convertible, which was parked halfway down the driveway. The mid-morning heat was already rising, filling the air with an underwater thickness.
"Thanks Linds, love you," said Hayley, hugging Lindsey.
"My turn," said Kirsty, throwing her arms open wide.
Saga called thirds. "Tell Maria those pancakes rocked," she said.
"Love you"s and "Call me"s followed as Hayley maneuvered off the grass onto the gravel drive and down through the trees toward the main road, leaving Lindsey standing in the driveway waving. Lindsey turned and walked back to the house.
The sound of hammer blows echoed across the yard. A small pickup truck was parked down by the pond. The father and son pyrotechnic team had returned to reclaim the tubes and electrical equipment from the fireworks platform. Lindsey waved to them. Also, a white van was pulled down onto the lawn and a man and woman were disassembling the party tent and folding up the chairs and tables. They even took care of the trash barrels.
Lindsey marveled at the way her mother organized events. Her mother knew exactly what was needed and who to call. If her mother ever had to work, she would make an excellent wedding planner, thought Lindsey, admiring her mother's attention to detail. Even the way she arranged for Jared to run interference while Ethan was away. It was underhanded but an admirably clever chess move. After the things her mother had said about her father, it was hard for Lindsey to not think of her in the different light. Her mother only wanted for Lindsey what she had had — which worked out very well for her.
But Lindsey was her own woman, with differing notions than her mother about love. Perhaps they were naïve notions, but naïve or not they were hers just the same.
And walking alone beneath the morning sun she felt a pleasant warmth, a sudden confidence in her own choices. She had the entire day to herself, to plan for Ethan's homecoming. Maybe she would take him out for lunch to celebrate his accomplishment. He was probably going to be hungry after such a long hike. Although he probably should shower first.
Lindsey smiled as she stepped through the pool gate and tested the water with her toe. Maybe she'll lounge around and read a book, get some sun before the heat got unbearable. Maybe she'll drive up to Worcester later and do some shopping. There was a nice summer dress she had her eye on at Lord and Taylor. Maybe a new pair of shoes.
She missed Ethan, but missing him was good. It was affirmation that her feelings for him were real and true. It would make it all the more special when she picked him up tomorrow.
She went into the house to change into her bathing suit.
Ethan's fingers were bloodied from trying to pry open the sliding hatch door. The recessed panel sat in a groove in the floor. It lifted just enough to give the promise of escape, but not enough to grant it. He knew it was futile anyway, but he had to try. He couldn't just sit by and wait for the doctor to make up his mind what to do with him.
The panel slammed back into its groove as another of Ethan's fingernails chipped off.
"Fuck me!"
Ethan sat in a defeated slump against the wall. Sweat beaded his brow. He sucked on the newest addition to his collection of wounds. The painful sting was nothing compared to his wounded pride.
He eyed the black orb staring down from the ceiling corner across the room.
"And fuck you too!"
He hoped the monitor also had audio. In case it didn't he said it again, only this time much louder.
"AND FUCK YOU TOO! ASSHOLE!"
The last part was directed toward himself. The doctor was right. If he hadn't gotten the crazy idea to hike the power lines, and do it alone, he wouldn't be in this mess.
Looks like you got yourself one big TARFU here, bro, if you don't mind me saying.
Once again his brother's voice was in his ear. TARFU. Things Are Really Fucked Up. His brother not only brought back bad memories from Iraq, he brought with him a different language.
If you haven't figured it out by now, bro, you're nothing but an animal to this guy. A fucking guinea pig. Just hang in there and wait your spot, it'll come, and when it does, make it count. Semper Gumby if you have to. Because once you're dead, that's it. Look at me.
Semper Gumby. The term made Ethan smile. The Marines had their own variation on BOHICA (Bend Over, Here It Comes Again), which was Semper Gumby. Ethan imagined a cartoon Gumby bent over and getting fucked in the ass, looking at the camera and saying, "We'll be right back!"
Ethan laughed out loud.
He then pulled his knees up to his chin. He was shaking all over. He closed his eyes to calm himself but he couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sadness.
Again, tears, hot and stinging, flooded his eyes. This time he let them flow freely, let them wash away the pain.
He slid down and lay on his side. There came the tickle of pine needles at his cheek. He didn't attempt to move them; their smell masked the other smells nearby. He was suddenly very tired and soon fell off to sleep.
"Thanks Maria."
Lindsey lay on her lounge chair soaking in the sun, the moisture from her swim beading on her oiled skin. She sipped the iced tea Maria had made her.
"Is there anything else I can get for you?"
"No, Maria. How about one for yourself?"
"Oh, no. I'm much too fat. I'm not a skinny thing like you."
Lindsey laughed. "Maria, you are not fat."
"And the world is not round, I guess." Maria busied herself by picking up the remaining wine cooler empties and a couple of plastic plates.
"Just think of it as there is more of you to love."
"Ay, and a fat pig dressed in a sexy dress is still a fat pig!"
"Maria, you're beautiful just the way you are."
"Thank you, sweetheart. Now don't stay in the sun too long or you'll shrink up like a prune!"