Mystery of the Tempest

by Sam Cameron

  “You should all go,” Steven said. “I’ll meet you back at the dojo.”

  “I’m tired,” Christopher complained.

  Denny saw Steven’s plan now. He stood up and dropped his napkin onto his chair. “Steven and I will go check to see if there are any reservations left.”

  “We will?” Steven asked.

  Denny walked out of the restaurant. Steven followed him. Denny found a small coat room area near the restaurant and pushed Steven into it.

  “What are you doing?” he demanded.

  Steven spread his hands innocently. “What?”

  “Last week you were complaining if I even looked at a guy. Now you’re trying to set me up on this snorkel trip with Brian. What are you, schizophrenic?”

  “Relax!” Steven said. “I was wrong. You need some company. He’s gay, you’re gay, he likes you, you like—”

  “Inside voice!” Denny snapped.

  Steven dropped his voice. “You’re leaving next month. You sit around and do nothing but mope around, I’ll kill you. For my sake, go out with him.”

  Denny almost believed him. But then he said, “No. This is you trying to make up for spilling it to Sensei Mike.”

  “So what? I’m your brother. I want you to be happy.”

  “You need to stay out of it,” Denny said sternly. “I don’t want your advice and I don’t want you meddling.”

  Steven leaned forward. “I don’t meddle! I fix things that you screw up. So stop screwing up.”

  Denny shook his head.

  “Excuse me,” Brian said, from about five feet away. His expression was inscrutable, and it was impossible for Denny to know how much he’d overheard. “I’m ready to go snorkeling if you are.”

  Steven patted Denny’s shoulder. “Call me when you get back.”

  Denny wanted to punch him, but instead he let Steven leave.

  Brian asked, “Are you okay?”

  “Yes,” Denny said. “Fine. You sure you want to go out? Christopher won’t be pissed?”

  “He’s already pissed,” Brian said, briefly glancing back to the restaurant. “But that’s his problem. He thinks you’re gay, but I told him you’re not. That we’re just friends. And I want to learn how to snorkel.”

  “Oh,” Denny said. “Okay.”

  The worst part of it was that Brian sounded like he absolutely believed Denny was straight. And he didn’t sound disappointed about it either. Maybe he was glad Denny wasn’t available. Maybe there was some incredible deficiency in Denny’s character that meant no reasonable guy would ever want to sleep with him.

  For the sake of his own sanity, Denny ought to follow Steven right out of the hotel.

  “Ready?” Brian asked.

  “Sure. Lead on.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “What about sharks?” one of the women on the boat asked.

  The captain smiled. “Nothing to worry about.”

  Brian looked over at Denny.

  “You’re not going to get eaten by sharks,” Denny said. “I promise.”

  Still, the idea had been planted. Treading water in the waves, surrounded by miles of sea and sky, Brian tried not to think about killer animals with razor-sharp teeth that might snatch off one of his legs or arms. Instead, he concentrated on breathing through the snorkel and keeping his mask from fogging up.

  “Relax,” Denny said. “You’ll love it.”

  He led the way across the reef, and Brian told himself no sharks, no sharks, no sharks.

  The underwater world was—oh.

  Beautiful.

  Colorful fish zigzagged across fields of red and brown coral like a nature documentary surrounding him in 3-D on all sides. The world’s biggest theater, he thought to himself. Sea plants and grass waved in the currents. Purple plants, green plants—some he recognized as anemones, and others looked as exotic as something from another planet. Denny taught him to submerge, hold his breath, then clear his snorkel and breathe without breaking all the way up into the world of air.

  He felt a pang of regret that he hadn’t done this months ago.

  And every once in a while he looked for sharks, but mostly he trusted Denny to let him know if anything bad was about to happen.

  Denny, with his amazingly long and lean body, and that crinkle around his eyes when he was amused, and the way he’d just shown up when Brian needed him.

  Which was kind of a big coincidence. He’d called their house on Fisher Key and their mother had told him they were down in Key West for karate. Denny hadn’t mentioned anything about that when Brian saw him on Friday. Maybe it had been a last-minute thing.

  That didn’t quite explain the argument Steven and Denny had been having in the coat room. Brian had overheard only a little of it, but enough to intrigue him.

  Was Denny gay after all?

  Because now that he thought about it, Brian hadn’t seen Denny ogling any girls today. He hadn’t seemed at all interested in them. Unlike Steven, who couldn’t keep his eyes in his head half the time.

  In the swirl of sea, color, and fish, Brian pretended Denny was his boyfriend and that they’d come to Key West together on vacation. That they’d be spending the night in that big bed upstairs. Some good should come out of it. Brian and Christopher’s first room had contained two queen beds, but the king had been the only thing available in the middle of the night.

  Yes, he liked this fantasy. He and Denny would spend the night together, and Brian would teach Denny how to have sex with another guy.

  At sunset they climbed back into the boat. The captain did a quick count to make sure no one had been left behind. Denny was quiet all the way back to the resort, with no outward sign of what he was thinking. Brian sat close beside him, just as silent. Nearby was the woman who’d been worried about sharks. She kept talking to a big blond guy who looked a lot like Nathan Carter.

  “It’s the stingrays you should worry about, too,” she said. “Very painful. And the jellyfish. Some jellyfish are so poisonous that they can kill a crocodile.”

  The man grunted. He didn’t seem interested in all the deadly creatures of the sea. He was in good shape, with a crew cut. Maybe a Navy sailor.

  The woman persisted. “But I worry about sharks the most because my uncle was eaten by one. In Australia.”

  For the rest of the trip in, Brian listened to her story about the unfortunate uncle. The blond guy watched the horizon and didn’t comment. By the time they reached the pier, the sky had gone dark and the air smelled like bougainvillea. Christopher had already left a message that he’d gone ahead to one of the clubs and that Brian should meet him there.

  “I need to go shower off,” Brian said. “Do you want to come upstairs? Order something from room service?”

  “No, I’m okay.” Denny said. “You go ahead. I’ll wait for you, walk you over.”

  In the shower, Brian worried that he’d pushed things too hard. Maybe Denny thought he’d meant they could shower together. Had Brian been that uncouth? He told himself to stop being silly. Still, it was a relief to find Denny waiting in the lobby downstairs. They walked toward the Priscilla Ann in mostly silence.

  “You know what’s over there?” Brian asked, desperate not to break the awkwardness. “Ernest Hemingway’s old house.”

  Denny asked, “You like Hemingway?”

  “Sure. Do you?”

  “He’s okay,” Denny said. “Kind of sparse.”

  They detoured two blocks to the Hemingway House, a two-story white building lit up by floodlights amid all the greenery. “I don’t think he was sparse,” Brian said. “Economical. From the days when he was a journalist.”

  Denny leaned on the fence. “He drank too much and was bad to his wives.”

  “He had a disease. And lots of people are bad to their wives. Does that mean he wasn’t a great writer?”

  “No,” Denny admitted. “It just means I don’t have to like the guy.”

  Brian studied Denny’s profile. The sweet air, the gentle b
reeze, and the seclusion of night made him want to lean over and kiss him. Before he could do anything that crazy stupid, Denny pushed back off the fence.

  “I’ve got to head back to Fisher Key with my brother,” he said.

  “Sure.” Brian looked away before Denny could see his disappointment. So much for big romantic fantasies. “Maybe I’ll see you up there this week.”

  “Okay.”

  “I mean, I know you’re not gay, but it’s nice to have a friend.” Brian hoped he didn’t sound like a dork.

  Denny looked surprised. “You have friends up there.”

  “Not so much. It’s my own fault. I don’t get out much.”

  “We’ll get you out some more,” Denny said, flashing that smile of his, and Brian hoped he meant it.

  *

  Steven spent his afternoon bumming around the beach, watching girls, and drinking soda in different spots along Duval Street. He saw some military officers eating in an open-air restaurant and tried not to get jealous that they had careers, they had futures. He wandered over to watch a cruise ship pull out into the harbor and by the old Custom House he saw Eddie Ibarra and Lisa Horne walk by.

  “Eddie!” Steven exclaimed.

  Eddie stopped. He was wearing rumpled clothes and a Key West ball cap. Lisa was in a purple T-shirt and purple eye shadow and purple feather earrings. Who even wore feather earrings? She had two large shopping bags in her hands.

  “Hey,” Eddie said, glassy-eyed. “What are you doing here?”

  “Karate, you douchebag. I’ve been calling you since yesterday. Where’s your phone?”

  “He lost it,” Lisa said, nuzzling the side of Eddie’s face. Her sunglasses slipped, showing her bloodshot eyes. “Didn’t you, baby?”

  “Completely lost,” Eddie agreed. “What are you doing in town?”

  “Karate,” Steven repeated. “Are you stoned?”

  “No!”

  Steven was sure he was lying. “You’re supposed to be in Miami.”

  “Change of plans,” Lisa said.

  She started to tug him away but stopped when Steven said, “The FBI is looking for you.”

  Eddie asked, “What?”

  Lisa asked, “Why?”

  “That bag you found at Beacon Point,” Steven said. “They think it’s a clue to whoever blew up that yacht. What was in it?”

  “Nothing,” Lisa said.

  “Some clothes,” Eddie said. “We threw them in the ocean.”

  “What kind of clothes?”

  Lisa made a face. “Some stupid clothes. Who cares? It’s not a clue to anything.”

  “Just clothes.” Eddie held up his hand in an oath. “In the ocean. I swear.”

  Lisa said, “We’ve got to go.”

  She pulled Eddie away. He went with her, docile, but called over his shoulder, “We’re at the Pier House! Come by later.”

  Steven said nothing. A year ago he and Eddie had been best of friends, living practically in each other’s pockets. Nothing and nobody came between them—not booze or pot or a girl tagged Most Likely To Overdose.

  Now he seemed like a total stranger.

  As they walked away, Lisa threw a backward glance over her shoulder that said Steven wasn’t welcome to drop by later. Or ever.

  But Steven had already figured that out.

  *

  “The Pier House?” Denny asked on the drive home. “Where’d they get that kind of money?”

  Steven didn’t answer. The Overseas Highway was full of dark stretches, and he was keeping a close eye out for key deer. The little animals could dart out into the road at any minute. The smell of the ocean rolled through the open windows, salty and heavy.

  “Why are you giving me the silent treatment?”

  “I’m not.”

  “Then answer me.”

  “I don’t know where they got the money. Maybe Lisa’s grandmother gave it to them.”

  “The one who thinks they went to Miami?”

  “It’s none of our business.”

  Denny snorted. “Since when is anything not our business?”

  “Since we graduated and we know better.”

  Another bridge rolled by underneath them. Steven’s fingers ached from holding the steering wheel so tightly. His stomach twisted the same way it had back at graduation.

  “Things change,” he said. “Everyone’s leaving in August or September, and nothing will be like it used to be.”

  “Are you moping over Eddie?” Denny asked. “Is this a bromance thing?”

  “Do you want me to drive into the ocean and drown you?”

  “You wouldn’t drive into the ocean. You like your truck too much.” Denny slurped the last of the cherry drink he’d picked up at the gas station. “Just relax and enjoy the summer, will you? Stop worrying about what’s going to change in the fall.”

  “I didn’t get in,” Steven said. He instantly bit his tongue. He hadn’t meant to blurt it out. But there it was: the plain, ridiculous truth. And his heart was rat-tatting with nervousness now that Denny knew, but he was glad he’d said it.

  “Didn’t get what?” Denny asked.

  “What?”

  “Didn’t get it. Get what?”

  Denny had misheard. Because his brain was full of would-be gay boyfriend, probably.

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing what?”

  “You’re deaf, do you know that?” Steven said. “Just forget it.”

  Denny turned on the radio. “Call me when you’re ready to stop being so irritating.”

  “Likewise.”

  They rode the rest of the way in silence.

  Chapter Seventeen

  On Monday morning Denny woke to see Steven hunched over in the pre-dawn light, tying his sneakers.

  “I’ll go with you,” Denny croaked out. He needed a good run.

  “Don’t slow me down,” Steven warned him.

  The morning breeze promised a hot, steamy day to come. They ran their normal four-mile loop on back roads, crossing the Overseas Highway to get to the long stretch that passed the resorts, police station, baseball field, and private homes. Steven didn’t set a particularly fast pace, which was a surprise. Usually he pushed and pushed until Denny’s legs felt rubbery. They heard birds, the occasional passing of cars, and their own labored breathing.

  The last part of the route took them past Beacon Point, the yacht club, and the city marina. Once home, they threw themselves into the lagoon and swam out to the channel markers. Denny liked the feel of water sluicing over his shoulders and legs. Usually Steven was faster, but today he lagged behind. They returned and hauled themselves up to the dock. Usually they did push-ups then, but Steven just flopped on his back. No noise came from inside the house. Mom and Dad were still asleep.

  “What didn’t you get?” Denny asked curiously.

  “What?”

  “Last night. What didn’t you get?”

  Steven made a face. “Will you drop it?”

  “No. Tell me.”

  Steven pulled himself upright and walked away. Denny thought about giving him some space, but then followed him down the dirt drive toward the main road.

  “I didn’t get in,” Steven finally said. “Happy?”

  “What are you talking about? In what?”

  Steven threw his hands up. “BUD/S! SEAL training. Any of it!”

  Denny stopped walking.

  “That’s crazy,” he said. “You showed the papers to Mom and Dad.”

  “They’re fake. Eddie did them on the library computer.”

  Denny felt the whole island shift under his feet—the big oak trees and palm trees warping in his vision, the ocean threatening to sweep over his head.

  “You faked it? And the only one who knew was Eddie Ibarra?”

  “Yes. Aren’t you happy you asked?” Steven put his hands on his knees. His voice dropped, as if he were deflating. “I didn’t get in.”

  Denny walked a loop around him. “But that’s insane. Why no
t? What’s wrong with you?”

  “I failed the color vision test.”

  “The what?”

  “I’m color-blind!”

  Denny burst out laughing. He didn’t mean to, honest, but color-blind?

  Steven looked ready to punch him. “I’m glad you think it’s funny.”

  A truck turned out of the city marina and came their way. They separated to let it pass.

  “What color was that?” Denny asked, once it was gone.

  “Blue.”

  “So how can you be color-blind?”

  Steven threw his hands up in the air. “The military has a different test. It’s harder than the normal test. They won’t let you be a SEAL if you can’t pass it, and I didn’t want to train for anything else. So I’m not in.”

  Denny had never heard Steven sound so defeated. Sure, he’d had temporary setbacks—a broken leg during freshman year, getting the flu before the SATs. Nothing like this.

  “I’ll take it for you,” Denny announced. “They won’t be able to tell the difference. I’m not afraid of any stupid machine.”

  It wouldn’t be the first time they’d swapped identities without telling anyone, but Steven shook his head.

  “You can’t. If I’m really color blind, I could get people killed on a mission. I have no business doing the job.”

  Steven started walking back home. Denny followed silently. Being a SEAL was all that Steven had ever wanted. He’d planned for it, dreamed of it.

  “So what are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know.” Steven swung around. “You can’t tell Mom or Dad.”

  “You don’t think they’ll notice when you never leave for boot camp?”

  “I’ll have a plan by then.”

  “College.”

  “It’s too late for the fall term.”

  “Community college, so you can transfer the credit.”

  “I’m not going to community college.”

  Denny thought fast. “You could join the Army. They have divers.”

  “I’m not joining the Army, asstard,” Steven said. “Don’t worry about it, okay? I’ll figure something out. You just keep your mouth shut.”