The team loved her from the moment they saw her and couldn’t wait to see what she could do. But so far they had only seen her sit in mooring. Mac had paid up the mooring back fees and they had used their time to familiarize themselves with John’s equipment and files. The computers and tracking devices were relatively new and well thought out. Like the boat itself, the scanning and sonar equipment was especially designed for the deep, dark enclosure of Loch Ness.
This morning they had beaten John to the coffee but had little to do afterwards. Mac sat on the aft deck next to a Simpsons characters chess set and studied his last move and Kyle’s next.
“Anytime you’re ready, Roboclown.”
On the other side of the board, the mini-sub sat in its launch skid. The tail was pointed up at a forty-degree angle with the nose aimed at the water. From in front of the tempered glass dome meant to house one or two technicians, a mechanical arm moved toward the board. From inside the sub, Kyle watched the board on a monitor as the arm moved toward a Bart character. With a gentle touch the steel hand picked up the plastic piece and moved it two spaces forward.
From the speaker on the sub, Mac heard Kyle’s digitally enhanced voice say, “Check, dude.”
John came up from below with a steaming mug of coffee. “That’s the second most useless application for that very expensive equipment I’ve ever seen.”
“We’re just getting acquainted with the equipment, boss,” Mac said as he studied the last move.
“Just in case,” said the digital voice from the sub. “We are going to look for something pretty soon. Aren’t we?”
“We can, I guess. I mean if you really want to.”
“That’s the spirit!” Kyle cheered.
John took his meaning. “I know we should be looking and we’ll pick up right where I left off. I just expected to have something more to go on by now.”
“You mean the callers?” Mac asked.
“That would have been the most unique breakthrough since the first sighting. Imagine talking to a dinosaur like it was a dolphin. An actual language.”
Kyle climbed out of the sub. “This teacher. Is she the wrong one or does she just know nothing?”
“I think she’s the right one and I think she knows. That’s what’s bugging me. She just won’t talk about it.”
“Want me to go see her, boss? You know. Turn on the old charm?”
“Oh, that explains it,” Mac said. “You’ve had it turned off all this time.”
Kyle looked over John’s shoulder and nudged him. “Boss. The fuzz is here.”
A uniformed patrolman came up to John with a pleasant smile. “You must be Dr. Nagle.”
“He really must,” Kyle quipped. John shushed him and turned to the officer.
“I am. How can I help you, officer?”
“Douglass. I hear you’re something of an expert on this monster we have here. Is that true?”
“I’ve studied the sightings and rumors. I’m afraid I’ve never actually seen any monster.”
“Have you?” Mac asked the officer.
The officer ignored him and spoke to John. “We’ve had some incidents around here these past few weeks. I wanted to ask your opinion on some of the stories.”
“Incidents? What kind of incidents?”
“If I’m honest, I think they’re mostly accidents. But there’s been sort of a rash of disappearances. Two fishermen. A groundskeeper. A few sheep and a cow. And one boy said he saw the beastie eat his dog. That kind of started people blaming the monster for all these things.”
“Ever heard of the Bermuda Triangle, Officer Douglass?”
“Sure. Big part of the ocean where things keep disappearing. Why? That have something to do with this?”
“In a way. See everyone was looking for a cause for these mysteries. One thing that would explain away the lot. But the truth was each incident had its own cause. A squadron of planes flying without instruments was found to have actually flown out across the Atlantic when they thought they were heading south. They ran out of gas and crashed in the ocean. Each disappearance has a separate explanation. They all happen to be related to this body of water simply because there’s a lot of travel through this area. That’s all.”
“So you’re saying all these things happening here have nothing to do with each other?”
“Seems more logical than blaming it on sea monsters.”
The officer scratched his chin. “Well, I see your point there. And it’s a good one. But one thing bothers me. Nothing much ever happens around here. We have the occasional boating accident and sure Seamus Watson seemed to be willing to do anything to keep him away from his wife. Coulda run off, I suppose. Sheep and cattle get lost all the time. And that boy has been listening to his teacher telling him monster stories. All that could be a load of disconnected incidents. But it just strikes me odd that they all started happening right when you and your mates came in. Doesn’t that seem a wee bit coincidental to you, Dr. Nagle?”
Mac spoke up. “Two fellows in a boat crossing the loch at night? Would that be on your list there?”
The officer finally acknowledged him. “That would be a part of it.”
“It’s just that I remember reading about that in the paper. They said there was still no sign of them or their boat and you had called off the search.”
“So what’s your point?”
“I read that the morning we got here. Seems our reputation preceded us.”
Douglass twisted his face but allowed a smile. “Well, the locals here are torn between blaming you for stirring up rumors to draw attention to your project and that teacher for filling the kids’ heads full of horror stories.”
“Look, Officer Douglass. I’m more than willing to cooperate with you and the locals in any way I can. You’ve got a bunch of Nessie experts around here. I’m just one of them. But if you want me to comment on any evidence you come across just to prove to the others it’s not a monster attack, that’s what I do best. I dispel myths. I don’t want the monster to live. Trust me. I don’t want the attention.”
Douglass almost laughed at himself. “Doctor. That makes so bloody much sense that I’m actually embarrassed for the crap I just laid on you. Thank you for the offer. If I come across anything, I might call on you. Now how do they say it in America? Oh yeah. You folks have a nice day.”
John smiled and returned the salute as the officer got back into the checkered yellow car and drove off. Kyle couldn’t help but comment. “Damn, boss. You are truly a diplomat. I can’t believe you needed that … other person of alternate genitalia… to help you get funding. You are one smooth talker.”
“He is that,” Mac said. “Talked us out of getting our heads blown off.”
John was not complimented by the praise as he had still fallen short of the one true goal: he had been unable to persuade Aisling to speak with him. The very reason for returning, and one girl was a brick wall.
“What’s say we give up on Frank and stretch our sea legs?”
* * * * *
South of the mooring point at a local primary school, the morning was far less tranquil. An armada of concerned parents had converged on the school superintendent to demand the dismissal of one of his favorite teachers.
Leighton Tucker stood defiantly behind his desk as more parents than could reasonably fit in the small office shouted en masse at him. He tried to still the tumult.
“Stop! Stop! Stop!” he shouted over them. “Nothing is going to be gained by mobbing and screaming.”
“Well, what are you going to do about it?” demanded the woman closest to him. With her query, the crowd hushed a bit.
“About what, Margaret? The police are handling it.”
“That’s not what we’re talking about. My son’s traumatized because of her. He thinks the monster took his dog.”
“And what about my husband? Every mother here knows she said the monster got him too.”
Tucker maintained his assertive tone. �
��First off, nobody heard her say that. Second, are you suggesting she stole your dog or had something to do with him running off?”
“I’m not talking about the dog at all. I’m saying she’s been filling our kids’ heads full of rubbish. Monsters and such. She needs to be stopped!”
“There’s a book she should read!” shouted a man in the middle of the pack. He waved a Bible in the air. “That woman is dangerous!” With that, the crowd began to rise again to unruliness.
“Oh, that’s great, Brett. Start a holy crusade against a schoolteacher. Do you people have any idea how you sound? And what is that on your head, Brett?”
The man touched the waffle shaped marks on his head with a visible air of discomfort. The square mark was made by several rows of tiny indentations identical to that made by a wooden meat tenderizer.
“We want to know what you’re going to do about it!” demanded the woman in front.
He leaned forward and looked Margaret directly in the eye. “About what?”
“That liar scaring our children!” she screamed back, pounding his desk with rage.
“Here’s what I’m going to do! Listen up all of you!” The crowd grew quiet enough for him to make his point. “I’m going to count to ten. Then I’m calling the police and having this office and these premises cleared.” They voiced their objection in unison but Tucker was having none of it. “I mean it. I’ll talk to Miss McCawler and see to it she sticks to the approved curriculum. Other than that, she’s a teacher and she’ll by God teach. Now I’m sorry Chris is frightened. And the police are doing everything they can to find Seamus. But you can’t blame every boating accident, dead sheep or runaway husband on one woman. At least I’m not going to. I’ll talk to her. That’s all for now.”
“Well, that isn’t good enough, is it?” challenged another woman.
“I think you need to let us talk to her,” shouted the portly man behind her.
Tucker took exception. “Maybe you’d like to hang her right now. Is that what you want?” The crowd hushed to a disgruntled murmur. “Any of you want to lynch that girl? Will that bring back Seamus? Will wee Chris feel happy then? Will he, Margaret? I happen to know he thinks very highly of Miss McCawler and so do I. Now go on. Away you go the lot of you. Let me deal with my part and the police theirs.”
The crowd reluctantly filed out of his office and left the school. Leighton had been dealing with parents too long to assume they were satisfied. He watched from his window until they were well off. Then he made the short trip down the three corridors and up two flights of stairs to the classroom of Aisling McCawler.
Aisling sat silently flipping through papers. It was four in the afternoon and her class was gone for the day. She could have been as well but she chose to wait until Leighton had come to her. As he came to the doorway, she looked up at him with a warm, genuine smile. “Come in, Mr. Tucker.”
Leighton smiled awkwardly back as he came up to the desk. “So how’s things with your students, Aisling?”
“Fine, fine. I think at least half of them are reading a year ahead. Can’t ask for much more than that, can we, Mr. Tucker?” Her question dragged enough to let him know it was a cue to make his point. He hesitated, so she pulled again. “Can we now?”
“No. I suppose that’s the goal. The kids are learning and everyone’s happy.”
“Are they? Everyone, I mean?”
“Well, now that you mention it…”
“One of the boys told me to excuse him from class if I was going to tell more monster stories. Said his mother told him to do it.”
“That would be part of it, I guess. They think you’re creating some minor hysteria in the children.”
“And why would I want to do that?”
“You wouldn’t. I know that, Aisling. But mothers are a weird animal. When it comes to their kids, they’re just not going to listen to reason.”
“So what shall I do?”
“For the time being, nothing. Keep teaching but stick to the textbooks. Once the fear dies down, you can go back to being you. Is that a fair proposal, darling?”
“Nothing fair about it. But what choice have I got?”
“Whatever or whoever is stirring them up will be done soon. It comes and goes. Always has. Just give them time to forget. That’s all.”
He left her with the same, though somewhat diminished and less sincere, smile she had when he arrived. His job was done for now. But Aisling sat and fumed. She enjoyed teaching the way she taught. She was good at it and did not like being told to change for no good reason. She felt victimized. But for every victim, there’s a culprit. And who might that be? Who, she pondered, would want to stir up the monster story? Moreover, who would want her involved? She could come up with only one man.
The paper the next morning was a shocker to all. A man not local claimed to have seen the beast, or something he couldn’t explain. He claimed he witnessed a boat out on the Loch overturned and a long-necked beast with a back like an overturned boat go through it. He couldn’t tell in the dark and distance if it ate the boat’s passengers. It swam for a bit with head and neck exposed, and then dove.
The witness asked to remain anonymous but said he had no knowledge of any recent sightings. The locals wanted to find a way to use this to fortify their position but it seemed to be designed specifically to dispel any belief that Aisling was at the heart of any conspiracy. This man, a passerby with no knowledge of local issues, could not have been influenced by her stories in any way. But still they contended that the problem was growing out of control now. The only way to control it was to control her. It would have served as vindication if logic and evidence were in any way associated with the conviction without trial of Aisling McCawler.
Chapter Seventeen
They had spent the previous day testing the equipment and monitors underwater but found little more than scenery to look at. The one positive was that they had not actually looked for anything but merely loaded all John’s programs and files back onto the computer. It was an arduous and boring task but had to be done. The evening was spent mulling over the files and extrapolations and planning their next move. Frank didn’t go out with them so he had only projected input.
John allowed them to make the plans. He knew he had a great team with brilliant minds and fresh ideas and he truly hoped they could start him off in a fresh direction. However, the next morning he came to the boat to find no one hard at work. Surprised by the absence of all but the late-rising Frank, he looked around and spotted Mac crouched by the edge of the water fifty feet away from the pier. Thinking Mac may have found some sort of fossil or unusual fish, he strolled over to have a look. As he approached, he saw Kyle lying on his belly in front of Mac. Mac held him by the seat of his trousers to keep him from sliding into the water as Kyle reached down deep into the lake.
“Drop something?” John asked.
“Testing something,” Mac replied, gesturing with his head to the other side. John looked to see what appeared to be a plastic egg with an electric wire extending from the egg to a hand-holdable controller.
“I’m almost afraid to ask.”
Kyle pulled his arms out of the water and sat up. “Remember that flash powder we showed you? This is full of it. We upped the battery in this barbeque ignition switch for a good spark. I’m thinking it should be enough to ignite it.”
John looked at the egg. “It’s not too big, is it? What are we burning?”
Kyle stamped his foot. “This rock.” He held the controller in his hand that was attached to the egg planted inside the very rock on which he stood. “I’ve been dying to try this but the EPA has been just daring me to use this stuff in public. I don’t think they come up here too often. Ready?”
Kyle pressed the ‘on’ button and the water near the rock immediately started to fizz. The sulphur aroma permeated the air, gagging John though Mac didn’t seem to mind. Kyle actually leaned over into the noxious gas for a better look at the liquid turmoil. After
twelve seconds, it was over. Kyle stood up and looked back at them with a Cheshire cat grin.
“It worked.”
“Outstanding!” Mac said, applauding his inventive partner.
John was perplexed. “What worked? All I saw was fizzing.”
Kyle stomped the rock in response. This time the once solid rock shattered like thin ice. Kyle fell through and plunged into the cold water. Undaunted, he laughed as he clawed his way back up the muddy bank next to the powdered rock. “That! And if you don’t start looking impressed I’m shoving the other one up your—”
“Very impressive!” John shouted, applauding both the accomplishment and the threat.
* * * * *
They finally got underway and the excursion brought them toward the very spot he and Louisa had stopped at so many months before. They prowled the bottom but could not get involved in his project of plotting where the thin parts of the loch basin were because that’s where it would build a nest.
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