Something Down There

by Nancy Widrew

  Norman clenched his jaw, and the smile left his mouth.

  “I’m sorry,” said Karen. “I had no right to ask.”

  “It doesn’t matter. What happened between me and David was of no consequence, at least to me. I’m afraid he took it more seriously, but he’ll get over it.”

  “You don’t have to explain,” Karen insisted.

  Norman shrugged. “I don’t mind. Tell me, have you ever been on an ocean liner? On a cruise?”

  “No,” said Karen.

  “I was once. Too much food, too much sun. My point is that too much of anything can get boring. Even in Vietnam there were days where we just sat around spinning our wheels, waiting for the damned action to begin. After a while you need to get up and fire a gun, scratch that damned itch in the center of your back, the one you can’t reach. To get relief, you rub against a wall. David was a wall. Nothing more.” Norman closed his eyes. When he reopened them, they were red.

  “Something wrong?” asked Karen.

  His face relaxed. “I was just wondering … How come it always seems the person you love, doesn’t love you?”

  “Are you referring to David or someone else?”

  “Both, I suppose. I know you’re aware of my feelings toward Lily. I keep hoping that one day she’ll wake up, look over at me lying beside her and realize how much she loves me. But who am I kidding? If I were to die today, she’d probably not notice till tomorrow. Still, I can’t do without her.” He turned toward Karen. “You’re lucky,” he said. “To love someone who loves you back.”

  Lucky was the last thing Karen felt, but before she could answer, he sprang to his feet. “I’m ready to get back to work. What would you like me to do? I want to leave here with everything on schedule and running smoothly by the end of the week.”

  Karen, touched by his thoughtfulness, said, “Lily’s a fool.” As for Norman himself, she found taking his pulse proved more of a challenge. She reached for his arm, offered with a chivalrous spin of the wrist, and allowed him to help her up. But was he friend or foe? Both, she decided, as if such a thing were possible.

  #

  That night, Karen and Jeremy pooled their information. Afraid she might be forgetting something, he prodded her again and again. “Think carefully, even if it seems trivial. You never know what may come in handy later.”

  Karen dissected every last detail, major and minor, including her reservations regarding Norman’s forthrightness. Finally Jeremy felt satisfied. Then it was his turn.

  He had spent the last few days fishing for trout. Although thoughts of suicide had left his mind since the day at the lake, Rahm, as a precaution, sent Randy to accompany him. Prudently, he selected the youngster, feeling he would be less of an irritant. So Randy, with the pretext of friendship, stuck to Jeremy like gum on a shoe. Jeremy didn’t mind. In fact, he, too, had a motive and decided to cultivate their relationship. “If I can get the boy to like me, confide in me, we may learn secrets. Who knows? Maybe he’ll even lead us out.”

  “‘Lead us out’?” said Karen. “Now that’s a crazy thought. In any case, whatever you do, make sure he isn’t emotionally scarred. He’s only a child.

  “A child!” exclaimed Jeremy, immediately lowering his voice, cognizant there may be people close by, listening in. “This is no time for virtue. This is war.”

  #

  Waving a steak knife at his sister, Phil hissed, “This is war.”

  “Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” said Margaret, wiping her mouth with a cloth napkin. “I’ve been down that road. Matthew, too.” She turned to her husband, an attorney, who specialized in anything that increased his family’s bankroll and funded luxurious vacations as well as their second home in Martha’s Vineyard.

  Phil resented his brother-in-law’s success. In addition to fancy houses, his cars were upscale, his watches expensive. On the other hand, he did grill a good steak and, besides, he needed his advice.

  “I tried to make it work. Really!” said Phil. “Gave it my best shot. Even went to marital counseling, but it’s over, and the bitch won’t give up.”

  Margaret stared at Phil, explosives flaring from her eyes. “Don’t use that sexist language with me, baby brother. You played a huge role in this mess.”

  “Okay, you’re right,” he conceded. “And rub it in while you’re at it, but I’ve tried to reason with her and she won’t consider a no-fault divorce.”

  Cries and shouts from an upstairs bedroom immediately put the discussion on hold. Margaret looked at her husband. “Yours, mine, or ours?” The shrill voice of a young girl, screaming, “It’s my toy,” provided the answer. “Ours!” said Margaret, taking off in the direction of the commotion.

  “How can you stand that racket?” said Phil. “Five kids. Sheesh! One drives me nuts.”

  “I like kids,” said Matthew. “In fact, we’re thinking of having another.”

  Phil gaped in openmouthed wonder. “To each his own, I suppose. Anyway, getting back to my problem, do you have any great lawyerly advice for me?”

  Matthew’s disdain for Phil rose higher than an overflowing bathtub, but he crossed his arms and put on a professional face. “You know there is an advantage with a fault-based divorce. You won’t have to wait a year; besides you gave her more than enough grounds.”

  “I don’t care about the stupid year. Look, I don’t plan on getting remarried tomorrow. I just don’t want any bad publicity. I’m fairly new in town, and my career’s taking off. I have to be careful.”

  “What makes you think you’re so important that you have to be concerned about bad publicity? You only work at a small newspaper; the one with the silly name: Baltimore Bees.”

  “That’s Beehive,” said Phil, taking a long sip of wine while smoldering at the put down.

  Mathew, knowing he scored a point, smiled openly, and with that advantage in plain view, offered a morsel. “I think I can solve your problem, Phil. It comes down to biology. For most women kids are their number one concern, and you obviously don’t like them. That’s your solution, your bargaining chip.”

  Phil rubbed his face. “Hmm,” he said. “When I was at the house yesterday she just assumed I’d fight for joint custody. That’s the last thing I want. I’d like to see the kid, of course. At least once in a while.”

  Matthew gawked, his eyes round like a bullfrog’s.

  Phil smiled snidely, immune to the contempt on his brother-in-law’s face. He resumed eating and poured himself a second glass of wine. “So that’s the key, my golden ticket.” He raised his glass in a mock toast. “Thanks bro,” he said, swallowing the pricy Cabernet Sauvignon in noisy gulps. Matthew turned away in disgust.

  #

  A scraping noise caused Karen to awake. She sat up, fully alert, searching the darkness for danger, having the distinct impression someone was watching her. “Who’s there?” she asked, pulling the covers higher.

  “It’s only me,” said a small voice. “Randy.”

  Karen released a long drawn-out breath. “What are you doing here?”

  “Looking for Jeremy. We’re supposed to go fishing.”

  “Is it morning already?” She lit a candle and checked her watch. “Is it really this late? Damn. I overslept.” She rose, flinging the blanket back to the mattress. Her clothes were already on. As usual, there had been no reason to take them off. “Did you try the bathroom? He’s probably there.”

  Before Randy could answer, Jeremy appeared holding a lantern, his mouth brimming with a self-satisfied smile.

  “Where have you been?” said Karen, speaking in even tones in an attempt to hide her anxiety.

  “Out for a walk.” He gave a small nod in Randy’s direction, indicating she not question him further. Karen caught the look and understood. Whatever the reason, it would have to wait until later.

  Jeremy ruffled the boy’s hair, surprised to note those additional inches, the unmistakable shift from child to adolescent almost overnight. “Ready to go?”

  “Uh-
huh,” said Randy, “and guess what? I already packed our breakfast and lunch. Well, Mom did it mostly, but I helped.” Despite the admission, he stood tall and straight, holding the bag out before him.

  “Good,” said Jeremy. “I’d rather be with you than with the others.” Turning toward Karen, he added, “Except for you, of course.” He gave her an obligatory peck on the cheek before heading off with Randy to the lake.

  With the route now familiar, Jeremy easily avoided the pitfalls, especially in those places where one misstep could have deadly repercussions. Although his senses weren’t as adaptable as Karen’s, his expanding knowledge of the cave aided him in sharpening his survival skills. With a mental list of obstacles to overcome, he symbolically checked off adjusting to darkness.

  Jeremy rolled up his pants and waded into the chilled water. As usual, he steeled his jaw from the momentary shock before climbing into the boat and lighting the candle left in its holder. Randy stripped off both top and bottom clothes and climbed in beside Jeremy, who was now shivering from a sudden draft carrying an icy-wet spray.

  Teeth clucking hen-like, Jeremy stuttered, “H-how come you never get cold?”

  “I don’t know. I just don’t.” He began rowing.

  Jeremy reached out. “Hand me the food. M-maybe it will help.”

  Randy passed over the bag and Jeremy scoured through. He clutched a thermos. “I hope its coffee.” Thankfully it was, and as the hot liquid passed through his body, the trembling subsided and he got down to business. Taking an earthworm from a small box, Jeremy ably baited the hook on the tip of the fishing rod and cast off with a straight overhead motion. The rod was heavy, cheap but strong, and it had taken him a while to adjust to its feel. Although he made steady progress, Jeremy had to admit that Randy’s instincts, in knowing where the fish would be, added to their success.

  “Stay close to the banks,” suggested Randy. “It’s still early and the fish are hungry.”

  Jeremy had already learned that that was where the trout caught their morning breakfast of insects and crayfish.

  “Next,” said Randy, “we can try behind the rocks and in the riffles.”

  “You mean ripples.”

  “No, riffles. Those are shallows where the feeding’s good.”

  “You certainly know your trout,” Jeremy said in a deliberate attempt to win the boy’s affection. “How did you learn so much?”

  “Rahm taught me. He’s taught me everything I know, besides my mom, of course.”

  “I see,” said Jeremy, “and did he—” Feeling a tug on the line, Jeremy stopped in mid-sentence and shifted his attention. Randy leaned forward, tongue clicking, focused. As Jeremy reeled in the fish, Randy got the landing net in position. When the boy sensed the time was right, he lowered the net into the water just ahead of the fish, which simply fell in head first.

  “I got it,” said Randy, beaming in victory. He placed the net in the boat with the fish splashing wildly inside, further wetting them both.

  Randy’s smile abruptly drooped. “It looks pretty small. I think I’d better throw it back.”

  “That’s all right,” said Jeremy. “We’ve still got the day ahead of us.”

  Randy calmed down. “That’s true. Besides I can always catch crayfish.”

  Jeremy didn’t like the taste of crayfish, the miniature, lobster-looking crustaceans, but he was impressed by how easily Randy caught them with his bare hands from under the rocks that lined the lake.

  While Randy removed the hook from the fish’s mouth, Jeremy studied him from the corner of his eye. Tentatively, waiting for the right moment, he asked, “Ever think about going above ground?”

  Randy’s whole face lit up as if he’d been handed an unexpected treasure. “Rahm’s supposed to take me soon. When we need to replenish our supplies.”

  “I meant live up there. You know, permanently.”

  “Gee. I never thought of that. I like it here enough, I guess, even though I only have stupid Jon to play with.”

  “Well, if you lived above, there’d be kids your age to play with, do things with like eating ice cream, going to school, Disney World.”

  “I know what school is, and I miss ice cream. But what’s Disney World?”

  Jeremy raised a knowing eyebrow, certain he had stumbled upon a loose end. “Tell you what. I’ll teach you about my home above if you teach me about yours. Deal?”

  “Deal,” said Randy, matching Jeremy’s smile.

  “Good. Let’s shake on it.”

  The man and the youngster shook hands. Jeremy, pleased by his subterfuge, silently congratulated himself, determined to be the main beneficiary in this sober, high-stakes game.

  Chapter 14

  Karen sat on the “throne” in the Ballroom. Even though stuffing was starting to show through the padded arms, it remained the most comfortable, most sought-after chair. As an added bonus, it reclined on demand and a footrest popped in and out if the handle was pushed-pulled, a favorite game of Jon’s.

  Karen fixed the position to upright, her back rigid, while her ears strained for hints, rumors, anything noteworthy. After some self-directed pep talks, she had upped the notch in her determination to escape, but hearing only useless babble, she cursed through her teeth and collected her belongings to leave for the garden. At the last moment, Brian pulled on her sleeve, informing her of a change in plans. “Lily can’t join you this week,” he told her. “She’s gone to the fertility area. Rahm’s arranged for someone else to fill in.”

  Karen scowled, not caring if he took it personally. “Whatever,” she said, before hurrying off, rattled by the smug look on his face.

  She was happy to find herself alone with her fungal friends. Those few solitary minutes provided a boost to get her through the day. Since childhood, she rarely felt the need for prayer, but now she lowered her head, folded her hands, praying for the strength to do the impossible and secure her ultimate goal. In the meantime, she asked for a day’s worth of serenity along with a request that Lily’s replacement not be Brian. With that act complete, she felt renewed, and as she moved among the rows, she took in the product of her labor. The mushrooms, she saw, were thriving as if grateful for her care; she sat back, smiling with satisfaction.

  Hearing the approach of footsteps, she swiveled her head, impatient to see who the stand-in would be. When Rahm wandered in, she was taken aback, not so much by his presence but by her reaction. Her breath came faster and her pulse began to race. Dammit, she thought, dismayed by her response, hoping it didn’t show.

  “I gather Brian’s told you about Lily?” he said, his muscled calves and thighs outlined against the thin material of his pants. “She’ll be busy for the next few days.” His tone held a lilt of amusement. “You don’t mind my coming in her place, do you? I’ve been curious about the changes here; the mushrooms have never tasted better.”

  Karen picked a piece of lint from her sweater, avoiding his eye. “I haven’t been doing anything in particular. It’s just as Rachel said. All in the timing.”

  “Rachel said you talk to them.”

  Karen’s face drained of color. “Only as a joke. I haven’t lost my mind.”

  “Then you must have a green thumb.” He sat down beside her and picked up her hand, closely examining the short, cushiony digit. “Ah, just as I guessed. Green.”

  Flustered, she pulled back her hand, but her mouth trembled at the corners. She had acknowledged, months before, how attractive Rahm was, but that fact alone didn’t scare her. The real basis of her problem was more complicated and had only recently entered her consciousness.

  Ever since her father’s abandonment when she was a child, she had been seeking a substitute—a strong masculine figure to take his place and protect her. She had found that in Jeremy, but now their absurd circumstance caused a shift, altering their relationship. The need, however, still remained, ever rapacious and ready to soak up its nourishment; she would have to be careful.

  At her suggestion, the
y walked to the lake to replenish the pails with water. “Mushrooms get thirsty too,” she explained. Karen told him where and how much to pour on the beds. They added limestone and mycelium wherever necessary and then weeded the garden of defectives not coming in to her standards. Afterwards they harvested the ripe ones for that evening’s dinner.

  Over the next few days they practiced the same routine with Karen giving orders and Rahm following. While Karen appreciated his acceptance of her leadership role, she took care to be respectful, not trusting his intentions.

  By midweek, however, when she had grown more comfortable in his presence, Rahm, with his hidden agenda, switched tactics and proposed they take a break, relax a bit. Karen, immediately on guard, bristled.

  “You’ve no reason to worry,” he said. “I was only thinking of showing you echolocation again. I’m sure you can do it.”

  “What makes you think I can, or even want to,” she responded.

  “The way you deal with the mushrooms. You already have ESP.”

  “I most certainly do not. I don’t believe in that psychic mumbo-jumbo.”

  “I’m not referring to telepathy or the supernatural; just using your brain beyond the regular channels of perception. Come on! You’ve seen how the rest of us do it. Anyway, I think you’ll find it useful.”

  That final word struck a chord and Karen reconsidered. “All right,” she said. “Show me how.”

  Rahm nodded, smiling faintly. “Why don’t you have something to drink first? To help you unwind. Look at you. You’re as tense as a jackrabbit.” He opened a thermos and offered her tea, then helped himself to a cup.

  Karen took a sip and made a face. “What’s the vinegary taste?”

  “It’s just the mushrooms, the special ones that grow in the peat. Don’t worry. They’re not poisonous; on the contrary, brewing the stems triggers a nice soothing effect. Rachel gathered some this morning and steeped them in hot water. If you don’t like it, don’t drink it.”