Ark (36 page)

Four hours later Jim was throwing his suitcase into the back seat of a cab outside Andrews Air Force Base. He’d said goodbye to Aaron and Marta just moments before.

As they walked away Jim noticed that Marta took Aaron’s hand in hers. It was a smile to think that Aaron came away from his experience with more than just the skills of a goldsmith to show for it. Perhaps, if he ever saw Aaron and Marta again, they would be a couple.

Despite a wall of traffic between Andrews and National, the cabbie made great time. Still, it was a long ride and it gave Jim time to think. For the first time in nearly three weeks, Jim was out from under the nose of the U.S. military. It had felt almost like a subtle form of slavery.

The cabbie, a cheerful black man who said he came from somewhere in Africa, was eager to engage Jim in conversation. He was new to the country and working hard at improving his English. After explaining this to Jim, apparently as a test to see his fare was in the mood to talk or not, he asked Jim if he was on a business trip.

“Actually, I just came from Los Alamos where I was part of a project to recreate the Ark of the Covenant,” said Jim.

The cabbie was silent for at least a minute.

“I am not a fool, you know,” he said finally, glaring in the rear view mirror.

Jim realized that he’d blurted out the truth because something inside compelled him to, perhaps the need to break free of the constraints he’d been under. He remembered his statement to the General about no one believing the truth, and on impulse he’d decided to test it. Still, he’d signed a pact of secrecy, and if it got out what he’d said it might prove to be a serious matter, maybe even a death warrant.

“I’m very sorry,” said Jim. “I was just being rude. I am sorry. Yes, I was on a business trip.”

“For the government? Very hush-hush. Yes?” The cabbie’s frown vanished.

“You might say that.”

The rest of their conversation focused mostly on the western United States. The cabbie hoped to visit there one day.

When they arrived at National Airport Jim felt much better. The cab ride had been almost cathartic. He grabbed his bag and generously tipped the driver.

His gush of the truth was all he needed to rid himself of the burden of secrecy. Now he felt truly free.

He called Kas before he boarded a commuter flight to Philly. An hour later, she met him at the airport. Her dark eyes sparkled when she saw him and he knew that he’d been sorely missed.

Stephie was there too, and they all had a long happy hug. Stephie said that Woolsey was in the car.

On the way home Kas made him promise that if his work called him away again for so long, he’d try harder to include her in the trip.

“I never want to be away that long again,” said Jim reflexively. “This is where I want to be. But if I ever do, I promise you’ll be there.”

“You never told me what you were doing, daddy,” said Stephanie. She was sitting in the back seat holding her collie whose nose was pressed through the two inch opening of the window, sniffing the wind as their wagon sped up the Blue Route to Haverford. Kas was driving and Jim looked back at Stephanie from the passenger seat of their station wagon. He tried to conjure an answer that would be truthful but not too revealing.

“Some work for John Wilcox’s father, who works in Los Alamos.”

“Isn’t that where they work on secret stuff?”

“There’s lots of people there, Steph. Some are working on secret stuff, I’m sure. It’s one of our country’s biggest national labs.”

“What were you doing?”

“I was helping out with some artwork on a project,” said Jim. “I doubt if you’d be too interested. So how has Woolsey been? Teach him any new tricks?”

“Yes,” said Stephie enthusiastically. “He’s getting really good at catching things.”

“Cool,” said Jim, looking back at her. You can show me when we get home.”

Kas looked at Jim and smiled. Then her jaw dropped. The car even swerved a bit. “What happened to your hair?” she said.

Stephie noticed it too. “You have gray streaks, daddy!”

Jim leaned over and peered into the rear view. He touched his temples. “That’s weird. I don’t know. Guess I’m going gray.”

Kas looked at him doubtfully. “It’s weird, all right. You should see a doctor.”

“I’m fine. It happens sometimes,” said Jim. “Sometimes quickly. I was working pretty hard. Stressed at times.”

“Yeah,” said Stephie, “like a girl I saw on TV who got hit by lightning.”

“Were you hit by lightning, Jim?” asked Kas with a smile.

“Sure. Twice,” he said. “Once on each temple.”

Stephie giggled. “Oh daddy!”

Kas told Jim that Lou had called earlier that day asking when he would be back at work. When he arrived home he immediately called Lou.

It pleased him to hear the relief in Lou’s voice. “Damn, Jim, I never want to see a temp again,” said Lou. “You have to tell them everything.”

“Well, of course you do,” said Jim. That’s the deal, isn’t it?”

“I guess,” said Lou. “So you’re done with that gig? When are you coming back?”

“Can I take the weekend to get to know my family again? I plan to come back on Monday if that’s okay.”

“That’ll be great! Be ready to start cranking out work, though. The city liked our Super Sunday promotion so much they want us to handle all their work.”

“Really?” said Jim.

“Yeah, and apparently they put out the word. Now SEPTA wants us to handle all their transit promotion. Bus cards and shit like that.”

Jim was thrilled to hear they’d be busy. It was exactly what he needed to bring him back to reality.

Lou never asked about the exact nature of the work Jim had done while he was away, but that wasn’t much of a surprise. The Raftworks was much richer because of Jim’s freelance venture.

Jim hung up the phone and looked at his wife. “Good news all around, I guess.”

For Jim, the best news of all was the open acceptance and love that Kas showed him. She didn’t even ask him about the work he’d done. That night Stephie stayed overnight with friends and Kas dragged her husband off to bed at the earliest opportunity. They made love three times.

“I missed you so much, Kas,” said Jim. “You’ll never know how much.”

“Oh, I knew it,” she said. “I could tell you were lonely. I could hear it in your voice when we talked on the phone.”

“You could? You never worried about me?”

“Of course I worried,” said Kas as she ran her fingers lightly across Jim’s bare chest. “I worried about you a lot. You sounded pretty stressed at times.”

“Did I? You didn’t say.”

“Well,” said Kas. “I knew it would upset you more if I said anything.”

Jim hugged her. “You’re right. I would have worried about you worrying about me.”

“I guess that’s the way love is,” said Kas.

Jim looked into his wife’s deep brown eyes, so full of love and gladness at his being home again.

“Thank God,” he said.

As they fell asleep Jim said a prayer, but for the first time in his life he wasn’t asking for favors or help. He just wanted to express his gratitude.

#

Jim and Kas lolled away the rest of the weekend at home.

Jim made several phone calls to old friends, particularly Dan Slater. Dan was busy getting established in his new job in Philly. He said he’d found a house in Media, Pennsylvania, not far from where Jim lived.

During their conversation Dan mentioned the ark. “I heard you were out of town for a while, down in New Mexico with those characters who wanted to rebuild the ark. Anything come of that?”

“Not as far as I can say,” said Jim.

“That’s a shame,” said Dan. “I thought you guys really had something there.”

Jim changed the subject; asking Dan about the house he’d found. “So, how big’s the backyard in this new place of yours?”

Jim’s tactic was successful. Dan was more than glad to discuss his plans for a new garage and maybe even a pool. Thankfully, Dan didn’t mention the ark again.

By Monday Jim was rested and relatively back to normal. He arrived at the Raftworks Studio before eight that morning to catch up on paperwork and mail before Lou came in. Lou came in at nine with Donna, the temp, close on his heels.

“I figured Donna ought to come in to clean up last week’s loose ends,” said Lou.

“We can certainly afford it,” replied Jim. He looked at the stack of mail that had accumulated on a table near his computer. “Sheesh,” he said. “Amazing how much mail there is. It’ll take me the morning at least to wade through it.”

Lou stood nearby as Jim sat down and opened up his computer. His startup screen image of Kas and Stephie warmed him with its familiar glow. “Ahhhh, back to technology.”

“You didn’t use a computer in Los Alamos?” asked Donna.

“Not so much,” responded Jim, trying not to sound too cagey. “Don’t worry, I spent plenty of time staring at Mac screens. There’s no escaping them these days.”

Donna snapped her gum. “Yaaa, that’s a fact.”

Lou, standing behind her, rolled his eyes.

Jim smiled. “It’s really good to be back. Tell you what, Donna, if you want to run around the corner for three joes and some danish, I’ll spring for it.”

Donna smiled and snapped her gum again. “Shurr,” she said in a thick Philly accent.

“I’ll check my E-mail and when you get back you can finish up what you were working on.”

“Kewl,” she said when Jim gave her a five. Then she skipped out of the room.

After the door slammed, Lou let out a gasp. “I promise you, Jim, she’s a good designer and a whiz at Quark but...”

“Oh, you loved every minute it!” interrupted Jim. “It’s great to have her here. I missed the Philly accent.”

Lou nodded. “Says she’s from Fifth and Shunk.”

The phone rang and Lou ran to answer it. Jim clicked his mouse and connected his modem. The very first message was from Kas. “I didn’t show you my new blue nightie!” it said, followed by a string of X’s and O’s.

“Thanks again, God,” said Jim as he settled into reading the rest of his mail.

The rest of the day was just as pleasant. By noon Donna had finished the brochure she’d been working on and moved to another spare computer in the rear of the studio where she worked her digital magic in stereo headphones turned up so loud that Lou could hear them in the front room.

Jim was amused. It seemed that nothing could go wrong that day, and when he packed his briefcase to leave that evening he’d even managed to cut into a fair piece of the week’s work.

The next day was much the same. With the extra work coming in Lou and Jim decided to keep Donna on staff. There was no denying that her vitality balanced the mood at the Raftworks very well.

The rest of the week sped by and before Jim knew it he was grabbing his keys to lock the Raftworks. Surprisingly, Lou hadn’t probed Jim about the work he did at Los Alamos. Once he did say that something had happened “while you were off doing that jewelry catalog,” which was his earliest cover story. Now everything seemed back to normal and the Los Alamos gig was ancient history.

Every so often something would jog his memory, though, and he’d find himself remembering Gene and wondering what, if anything, came of Thunderbolt. He’d been content to leave just when things were getting interesting, but now his curiosity was beginning to return.

Just as Jim’s fingers touched the doorknob to leave the studio, the phone rang. Lou and Donna had already left and Jim remembered that he’d forgotten to switch on the answer/fax.

Jim picked up the phone. It was Aaron. “Is that you, Jim?” he said in a distressed voice.

“Aaron?” said Jim. “What’s up? Good to hear from you.”

“Maybe not,” said Aaron quietly. “Have you seen the news?”

“No. What?”

Aaron told Jim to take down his number and then he said he had to go. “Marta sends her regards,” he added. “After you’ve seen the news, when you have a chance, give me a call, okay?”

“Can’t you tell me what’s up?”

“I’d rather not talk now, Jim,” said Aaron. Then he added, “Call me tonight at that number. I’m not at John's, by the way.”

The journey home from work was a typical parking lot all the way to City Avenue. He walked into the house just at the end of the evening news. As if on cue the announcer said: “To repeat our top story. Still no word on the source of the mysterious explosion that rocked the desert south of Los Alamos.”

Jim stood in the doorway with his jaw agape, staring at the TV.

Kas saw Jim standing in the hallway and called to him. “What would you say to going to Great Safari tomorrow? They’re having a family special and we can finally afford it.”

Jim didn’t hear her. “Sure.”

He stood there for a while, long enough to draw Kas’ attention. “Are you sure, Jim? Hey, what’s the matter?”

“Did you happen to catch the news?” he asked, walking into the kitchen where Kas was tossing a salad for dinner.

“Did something happen? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I’m not sure,” said Jim, trying not to sound too alarmed. “There was some kind of explosion near Los Alamos.”

“Well, isn’t that a coincidence? You just came back from there. Didn’t you say that you were shooting jewelry or something out in the desert?” Kas was just making small talk. While she spoke she was moving things onto the table for dinner. “I found a great little sausage store downtown,” she said. “I couldn’t resist the Hawaiian sausage. I hope you like it.”

Jim sniffed the air. “It smells great,” he said, forcing himself to react normally. “Um, I heard that Gene and John Wilcox were out in the desert south of Los Alamos working on some project.”

“Really?” said Kas, folding napkins. She walked to the sliding screen door that led to the back yard. “Stephie ... dinner!”

Jim went back to the living room and switched to the all news channel. The anchorman was superimposed on a brown and orange map of New Mexico. Next to his head was a red graphic of an explosion and the words “Los Alamos.”

“No word yet on the source of the mysterious explosion that lit up the predawn skies of northern New Mexico,” said the announcer. “While the U.S. Military remains mum, speculation on the nature of the explosion ranges from a nuclear accident to a secret munitions test. CBN has contacted the State Department and the Los Alamos Police but still can’t find a knowledgeable witness.”