Something Down There

by Nancy Widrew

  The next morning, alone in the kitchen, she ate a cold breakfast of cereal, not bothering to enter the dining room where assignments were being handed out. Whomever Rahm assigned as her helper seemed irrelevant since she’d find out soon enough, anyway.

  Nearing lunchtime, Helene sauntered into Karen’s garden refuge. Despite her tardiness, Karen smiled, anticipating the possibility of pleasant girl talk. It didn’t take long, however, for Karen to wish David were back since Helene’s lazy habits along with her ceaseless babble resulted in a challenge beyond her capability. By midweek, Karen had reached her limit, and on the verge of telling her to shut up, she remembered her primary goal. Tactfully, as if she were speaking to parents at an open house, she redirected the conversation along useful lines, beginning innocently enough.

  “When David was here last week, he barely spoke at all, while you are a person of”—she paused to think—“uncommon verbal ability. How do you manage to stay together?”

  Helene batted her eyes, mistaking Karen’s words for a compliment. “Old habits make for strange bedfellows. We’re actually very compatible. He doesn’t bother me, and I don’t bother him.”

  “Sounds like true love,” said Karen, unsure whether to smile or look grave.

  Helene solved that problem with a whimsical quip. “As a matter of fact, I did love him once. Still do, I suppose.” She lowered her voice, looked around, double-checking to make sure they were alone. “In fact, I loved him so much that I followed him down to this zombie mausoleum.”

  Karen’s ears perked up. “I didn’t realize you felt that way. I assumed you wanted to come.”

  “I did, but just to be with him. Anyway, that was years ago, so it no longer matters. Here I am and here I’ll stay, unless—” Caught off guard, she immediately changed the subject and shook her head like a wet dog trying to dry off. “Have I told you yet what it’s like to fuck Rahm or Norman or even lecher Brian for that matter?”

  Holding her mid-section from the effects of a belly laugh, she began what was tantamount to a lesson, not leaving out a single detail. Karen, found herself laughing, too, while looking for any pearls of information to use to her advantage.

  With all barriers broken down, Helene spent the remainder of the week filing Karen in on the tribe’s intimate relationships. While she hardly lifted a finger workwise, her mouth proved a useful tool. It was obvious Helene was trying to shock her, but Karen managed to dig nuggets from the trash.

  “Rahm’s missing part of his heel,” she said. ”A war injury. He uses an insert in one of his shoes to compensate.”

  “Really?” said Karen, who refrained from jumping up and down at that useful information. Instead she managed to file it away in her mind with an underscore and three exclamation points.

  “And there’s rumors of an above-ground house, a safe-house,” said Helene, “possibly owned by Norman.” That information alone sent flashing signals to Karen’s brain like a stop sign in the desert.

  By the end of her rotation, Karen had to admit that her time with Helene proved valuable indeed. She learned about the strengths, weaknesses, and conflicts of the members. Mary’s intense desire to become the next mother could be a source of subterfuge, the petty jealousies among the members could easily be used against them, but what struck her most was the possibility of deceit. According to Helene, Norman voted to keep her and Jeremy prisoners, not set them free as he once claimed when they were alone. With the risk of misinformation, confusion, and lies, deciding whom to trust would be impossible.

  That evening, as in all others, Karen filled Jeremy in on every detail, large or small. His mood had picked up since their time at the lake, and he found the news of Rahm’s handicap particularly delightful. “We’ll be able to use that for sure,” he said, “Don’t you see? We can steal his shoes?”

  “I thought of that too,” said Karen, “and who knows what Norman will tell me. I think he’ll be coming tomorrow. I feel like a spy.”

  “That’s exactly what you are, so be smart about it, which means play dumb.”

  Like members of a secret club, they shared a high five. Then to further salute their progress, Jeremy proposed a toast and poured water from the pitcher he stored near their bed. “Remember back in New Hampshire how I called our state motto corny? Well, now I think otherwise.” Raising his glass, he sat up straight, threw back his shoulders, and said, “‘Live Free or Die.’” Karen did likewise, adding, “To General John Stark, my hero. May he lead us to victory.” They clinked glasses and drank.

  #

  Norman was busy chopping limestone when Karen arrived at the garden. “I woke up hours ago,” he explained. “I hope you don’t mind my starting without you. I’m not made to sit still.”

  Karen smiled. Friendly Norman, helpful Norman. No doubt about that. With multiple talents he was the go-to guy, always doing something: building furniture, replacing shelves, adding cupboards. But what about duplicity? Karen looked into his clever face—clever like a fox or just plain smart? Could he be persuaded to help her and Jeremy or was Helene correct? She told herself to be careful. Push, but not quickly or obviously.

  Up till then, Karen had either brought lunch with her or had gone back to the dining room and eaten there. Norman insisted on preparing a small feast for them both. Late in the morning, he’d head to the kitchen and whip up a basketful of surprises. Then he’d carry it back to the garden where they’d take a long break. In addition to the lanterns, he’d light a scented candle as if they were at a fancy restaurant.

  “You’re spoiling me,” said Karen, sniffing the air while chomping on a mushroom stir fry wrapped inside a crepe.

  “I like spoiling people I like.”

  Karen bit off a crusty edge. “Why do you like me?”

  “Because you’re sweet, thoughtful, and”—he lowered his eyes—“beautiful. Look, I know you’ve been dealt a hard blow. And while I can’t change what’s happened, I’d like to make your life easier.”

  Karen swallowed, put down her plate, and placed her hand on his shoulder. “There is something you can do. You can start by being honest, answering questions. Every time I ask one of the others, they brush me off.”

  “About what?”

  “A number of things. The people in the cemetery, for starters. Tom, Louise, Eugene. I read their names on their markers. I want to know how they died.”

  Norman winced. “You have a right to know, I suppose. But take my advice. You’re better off not knowing. It’s an ugly story.”

  “I don’t care,” she insisted. “Tell me.”

  Norman circled his head until he heard a crack, then crossed his legs and leaned back. “Okay,” he said, closing his eyes, forcing himself to peer into the worst days of the tribe’s collective past. “I’ll begin with Tom, Janet’s husband. After Jon’s birth, he began to behave—” He groped for the right word, but his tongue felt thick. “I’m—I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s still upsetting even after all this time. I regret that I didn’t pay more attention. Maybe there was something I could have done, but I, like everyone else, assumed Tom would be thrilled to have the first child born here. Of course, he may not have been Jon’s biological father, but that didn’t matter. Right? He was the symbolic father and given all due respect.

  “I have to admit though he wasn’t much of a father, even to Randy who Janet swears is his biological son. Tom all but ignored both boys.”

  “Must have been hard for Randy,” said Karen. “Adjusting to a baby and having a father who didn’t care.”

  Norman shook his head up and down. “We made sure to give Randy lots of attention, and as you can see he’s a great kid. But for Tom, things got worse, real quick. He took up with Louise outside the fertility area, even though she and Eugene claimed to have a solid marriage.

  Karen raised her eyebrows.

  “Oh, don’t look so shocked,” he said. “There nothing unusual about having affairs, even here. Only the timing was bad. And Eugene? Well, he didn’t care s
ince he was involved with Helene.”

  Karen stopped him with a pointed finger. “Wait,” she said. “Didn’t you just say Louise and Eugene were happily married? This is getting complicated.”

  Norman laughed but his face darkened with a warning: “Pay attention ’cause it gets worse.” Karen withdrew her finger, signaling him to continue.

  “To everyone’s shock, Louise announced she was pregnant. Naturally, we were wild with excitement—two kids in a short time, but you should have seen Eugene. I never saw anyone so happy, practically bouncing on the tips of his toes, and from what Louise said it’s unlikely he even fathered the child. But oddly, the only one who cared about that triviality was lover-boy, Tom. He insisted he was the real father, said he loved Louise. But, if you ask me, it was crazy love because he totally abandoned Janet and the boys. Demanded Louise move in with him.

  “By then Louise had had enough. Told him he was out of his mind. That she didn’t love him. Never had.” Norman paused, glanced at Karen who sat eyes ablaze, transfixed, caught up in the drama.

  “And then what?” she prodded.

  Norman took a breath and set his face in a stoic mask. “The situation appeared to get better at first. Tom, to all appearances, accepted the inevitable, and life returned to normal. Well, sort of … He never did go back to Janet, but that didn’t bother her any. She sang to the rafters how tickled she felt to see the SOB go. Called him an “asshole,” pardon my French.

  “Then about four months later, just before dinner, Tom began screaming, parading back and forth, ranting, pulling at his hair. He told Louise she’d better move in with him or he’d kill her. Yes, he actually used those words. She ran to get Eugene and in the meantime we tried calming him down. When they came back, Tom was on his knees bawling his heart out. It was pathetic. I don’t recall ever seeing a man—or a woman even—acting like that.” He bit his lip as he relived the experience.

  “Anyway, Tom finally did calm down and begged Louise to forgive him, insisting he didn’t mean to threaten her. Louise said she’d accept his apology if he’d promise to leave her alone, and who knows? Maybe it would have ended there if Eugene hadn’t butted in. But by then he, too, was worked up.” Norman swallowed a sip of water and wiped his mouth before continuing. “So next Eugene grabbed Tom by his shirt, pulled him to his feet, and told him to stay away from his wife. Said he’d been a lousy father to Jon and Randy and he wasn’t going to let it happen again. I can’t help but think maybe that was the final blow.

  “At any rate, Tom walked away without saying another word, as if nothing unusual had happened, and I thought—prayed—that that was the end of it. And it was the end in a way, but not how I’d hoped.” He turned to Karen, who stared back like an onlooker to a highway mishap, confusion and dread in her eyes.

  “I still hear those screams when I’m trying to fall asleep. The gasps, the death rattle in Eugene’s throat.” Unconsciously, he covered his ears with his hands. “Fortunately, Louise never knew what hit her. Tom crushed her skull with the first strike, but Eugene was a large man and fought back. Of course, the contest wasn’t fair since Tom used a rock. The first blow probably stunned him, the second did irreparable damage, and the third was lethal; he died before we could do much.”

  Norman, overwhelmed, almost stopped at that point, but it felt good to talk about the tragedy. No one else wanted to, and he needed to wash off his ensuing guilt. “Rahm chased after Tom as he tried to make his way out of the cave. He knew the route.

  “Rahm told us later what happened. There was a fight, a fair one according to Rahm. Tom was much bigger but not in great shape and had ten years on Rahm. He slipped and fell to his death, or, who knows, maybe it was suicide. Anyway, no great loss. Look what he did!”

  Karen felt certain Norman had left out an essential point, but being too keyed-up, she let it pass. Sensing her angst, Norman hurried on, determined to finish so he’d never have to expound again. “Rahm dragged the body back. Janet wanted to dump it into the guano and let the bugs feast, but Rahm would have none of that. He buried Tom himself—dug the hole and placed him in it. He even insisted we have a ceremony, the same as we did for Louise and Eugene.”

  With a shake of his legs, Norman indicated he was finished. Karen, however, bordering on obsession, had one final question. “But why the separate burial mound for the baby? After all, it wasn’t born yet.”

  Now it was Norman’s turn to squirm. Shielding his mouth as if hiding an evil secret, he said, “Mary felt we should attempt to save its life. With her medical training, she volunteered to do it.”

  Karen blanched. “You don’t have to explain further. I understand.”

  Norman’s lips flared with a “Phew,” relieved to skip over the grisly details. He did see fit to add that the baby never had a chance. “Too small. Too premature. It never took a breath and mercifully didn’t suffer.”

  “That’s quite a story,” said Karen. “Still, I understand how Tom, or anyone, for that matter, can lose their mind in this place.”

  Norman, whose eyes hadn’t deteriorated like the others, shot Karen a perceptive glance, discerning she had chosen those particular words as a rebuke. Recovering his composure, he knew better than to get angry or defensive. “It’s impossible to tell who’ll adjust and who won’t to any major change, here or otherwise. It may sound peculiar,” he said, “but it’s fortunate that all of us in the original group considered ourselves failures with nothing to lose and so much to gain.”

  “Seems to me,” said Karen, “that you’ve gained very little. Just a dark hole with no sky, no stars, not even a skyscraper.”

  “No, you’re wrong!” he said. His voice shook like an itinerant preacher, speaking God’s truth, spreading salvation. “Look around you. We do have skyscrapers, natural ones, massive ones, tens of thousands of years old. The stalagmite you’re leaning against is far more majestic than any of your so-called skyscrapers. We have flowers and stars too.” He stood up and held the lantern high over his head, aiming its light toward the ceiling. “See the anthodites?” Karen followed the direction of his arm. White crystal needles bulged and protruded, twinkling like brilliant jewels in a cloudless night. As Karen moved her head, they formed patterns like bits of glass from a toy kaleidoscope, reminding her of snowflakes, each one unique.

  Karen parted her mouth to ask a question, but Norman rushed ahead to make a final point. “What we’ve gained is miraculous: the opportunity to build a new civilization, blessed by the gift of a second chance. If we were in the far reaches of space it would be no less significant.” His eyes shined with the fervor of conviction. “All those people up there, those downtrodden souls living on the surface, how many make a difference? Any difference? How many are happy? I certainly wasn’t.”

  “Oh. Why not?”

  Norman snickered, revealing two dimples, one on each side of his face, just above his beard. Despite his Shirley Temple look, the bitterness in his laugh rang clear as a firehouse bell. “I was,” he said, “the black sheep of the family.”

  Confused, Karen squinched her cheeks, her skin creasing like a Shar Pei’s.

  “I’m serious,” he said. “You see my mother was white, my father black. I didn’t get to know his side of the family until I was older, but my mother’s … well, they never really accepted me, not completely, anyway.”

  “But you don’t even look black, not that it would matter, anyway.” Realizing her words sounded trite, she turned her head, afraid he’d notice her reddening complexion.

  “It’s funny,” said Norman. “Many years ago a classmate asked if I could change one thing about myself, what would it be. I told him I’d get rid of these stupid dimples, but that was a lie. I knew what I wanted, and what was worse, so did he.”

  Karen remained silent, ruffled by his candor, but Norman recovered and his voice softened with longing. “You know what? Now that the cave’s drained me of my color, I actually miss it. And don’t tell anyone this, but sometimes I dream of s
pending a whole day above, just sitting in a park or shopping for food and sampling every damned thing from appetizers to desserts.”

  Sensing a timely opportunity, Karen grabbed it before it faded into the barrens of the cave’s apocalyptic landscape. “So you do have regrets. Can’t say I’m surprised. Listen, Norman, if you have any thoughts of returning, you’d be astonished by the changes. Why in the last few years, amazing possibilities have opened up for women, minorities too. Did you know there’s a black mayor in Washington, D.C.? Name’s Walter Washington.”

  Norman snorted. “Forgive me, Karen, and please understand, I’m not making fun of you. It’s just that you’re so naïve. But I’m afraid I may have given you the wrong impression. I don’t want you to think I dropped out because I was running away. Well, okay, maybe that was part of it, but mostly I was running toward. Like I said before, we’re crusaders down here. Pioneers.”

  “Oh,” she said, her bottom lip thrust forward in a pout. “And you still feel that way?”

  “You know nothing’s ever as good or as bad as you imagine. But to answer your question, yes. Even today I see myself forging into the unknown, breaking down barriers, solving mysteries. I do have one regret, though.”

  “And what’s that?”

  Norman sucked in his cheeks and his dimples deepened. “I never imagined after all these years, I’d still be sleeping in little more than a cubbyhole. I thought I’d have my own house by now. I even picked the perfect spot by the lake.”

  Karen started. “You’re joking, of course.”

  “No,” he said. “I’m serious. Oh, nothing fancy, mind you. Just a small, practical structure, but big enough for the wife and kids I hoped for. Somehow that wasn’t my destiny, I guess.” He exhaled with a sigh. “Yet, even with that disappointment, I’ve never doubted my initial decision. Not for a moment.”

  “Tell me,” said Karen. “Is homosexuality part of your new frontier?” Immediately, she felt like kicking herself. It wasn’t her business to judge, especially after all she inferred about tolerance.