Meadowview Acres (35 page)

To the boys he said, “Let’s roll.”

They were all in the living room at the Port’s house in Meadowview Acres. Shasta had been released from Community Hospital that morning. Soon after she and Val had gotten home, Agnes had shown up. Clara, Bug and Ann Hamilton arrived a little after that. Margy Buchanon was there, as well. Val had called her the night before to ask her to wait with them.

Bill and Mark were outside talking. Their plan was to park at the edge of the gravel road to wait for news. The men felt like they were part of this plan and didn’t want to be left out, even though they couldn’t be close to the safe with the artifact.

Shasta was comfortable on the couch. She had a soft blanket covering her that didn’t hurt her skin, but her cough seemed a little worse. The doctor had said that was to be expected. Her lungs were still clearing.

Bug and Clara were sitting on pillows on the floor close to Shasta on the couch. Agnes and Ann were in chairs while Val flitted around bringing the women drinks or snacks. She was much too nervous to sit down. Margy wandered from window to window as if she expected her husband to show up at any minute.

Bill poked his head in the front door just then and said, “Hey, Hon? We’re going to head out now.”

Val rushed over and hugged him. “You all be safe, okay? And call if there’s any news at all, you hear?”

Bill hugged her back and said, “Promise. I’ll check in with you after a while.” He went to the couch and kissed the top of Shasta’s head. “Bye, Sweetie.”

“Bye Dad, be careful,” she answered.

Bill then went to Margy Buchanon and gave her a little hug. “He’ll be fine, Margy. He’s a tough one.”

She looked up at him, glad that Don’s old Army buddy would be near, and nodded.

Mark came in then and said goodbye to Ann and Bug. “Don’t worry about us. We can’t get near the site; we’re just there in case they need something.”

“We won’t worry, Dad,” said Bug.

The men left and the room was quiet. Finally, Margy went to Val and the two women hugged. Val knew that Margy was remembering when their husbands were overseas for that last tour. Val looked at her friend and said, “At least this is just one day, not a year.”

Margy looked back at her and said, “Yes, but why does this feel scarier?”

Sheriff Buchanon felt like his head was about to explode. For the past hour, Deputy Clay had been talking non-stop. Don knew it was only nervous energy, but he needed Michael to shut up. Don was entertaining thoughts of strangling him.

“…couldn’t have known there was a chicken down there, too. So I said, “How we gonna git ‘em out?” and he said, “Well, shoot, Mike, I don’t know. Reckon we can…”

“Mike!” Sheriff Buchanon interrupted abruptly. The deputy stopped talking at once. “Do you think we could just have a little quiet for a minute? I’d like to go through some things in my head, and I just can’t think with you rambling on like that.”

“Oh sure, sorry, Sheriff,” Michael replied, a little hurt. “I’ll be quiet.”

“Thank you,” Don breathed a sigh of relief and checked his rearview.

Darren was still right behind the dump truck. He had practically kissed his bumper all the way in so far. Don guessed that was nervous energy, too. Behind him was Hunter, bringing up the rear. Don could see the poor boy’s head pop out of the window every once in a while to retch. He was alright though, Don could tell. He was mostly worried about Eli. The boy’s color had been pasty white this morning and he had been holding his head in his hands.

They were roughly twenty-one miles in. They had made good progress. The information from Bill and Mark about the terrain had been extremely accurate, the trees flanking the path had been easily taken down as the dump truck rolled over them. A little over ten miles and they would be at the destination.

The GPS from the Blazer had been transferred over to the dump truck, but they had hardly used it. There was only one way to go on the rough path. Don figured they might need the GPS when the path gave out.

The walkie-talkie crackled to life.

“Sheriff? Sheriff Buchanon? This is Hunter. Are you there?”

Michael handed the device over to the Sheriff who pushed the button and replied, “I’m here, Hunter. What’s up?”

“Um, Sheriff. I’m kinda worried about Eli. His head’s really hurting. Do you think he could ride in the dump truck with you?” Hunter’s reply had been broken up a couple of times with dry heaves.

The sheriff had a better idea. “Darren? Are you there?”

Darren answered immediately, “Yes, Sheriff.”

“Good. Everybody stop.” Don slowed the dump truck to a stop and put it in park. He jumped out of the truck and walked back to the Blazer.

“Unlock it, Son,” he said as he passed by Hunter’s open window.

He heard the pop of the lock and opened the hatch. The safe was there. It looked the same as it did the last time he had seen it, when they welded it shut. Sheriff Buchanon lifted it out of the Blazer and bright blue flashes of light assaulted his vision. He wasted no time walking to the back of the dump truck.

“Michael! Hey! Can you jump up on the back of the truck so I can hand this off to you?” Deputy Clay hopped out of the truck and ran around to the back. He jumped up on the bumper and climbed up so that he was standing on the top of the back tire.

“Here you go, Sheriff, I got her,” he said as he reached for the safe.

Don gladly handed the thing over and watched through flashing lights as Michael brought it over the side of the truck to lay it on top of the gravel mixture.

“There she sits,” Deputy Clay said, “Snug as a bug in a rug.”

He hopped down from the truck, and Don noticed that the man was clammy and white.

“You okay, Mike?” he asked.

“I’m fine, Sheriff. Just feel light-headed’s all.”

As the men walked back to the front of the dump truck, Michael said, “Hey, Sheriff, did I ever tell you about the time Uncle Tim fainted in church? Now that’s a funny story. It was one Sunday when my mom and I was sittin’ way up front with him near the preacher and he…”

Sheriff Buchanon, hoping the engine would drown out Michael’s story, started the dump truck.

“Is that helping,” Hunter asked Eli. He had been seriously worried about his friend for the last several miles, when finally he had decided enough was enough. Against Eli’s protests, he had notified the sheriff and now the safe was resting in the back of the dump truck.

“It’s easing up a little bit, I guess,” Eli replied. “I honestly can’t remember what it feels like not to have a headache. I wonder if I’ll have one tomorrow after the rock has been buried.”

“I know what you mean,” Hunter agreed. “I’m going to eat so much food! Just knowing I won’t be puking it back up sounds awesome! What should I have?”

“Everything you’ve been puking for the past ten days. Man, has it only been ten days since this thing started? It seems like months to me,” Eli said.

“I know, Man,” agreed Hunter. “But today it ends, and then the feasting begins.”

Darren had been thinking about his dad all morning. The smell inside the cab of the bulldozer was comforting. It had helped him remember all kinds of things that he and his father had done together. He remembered playing ball, of course. He remembered learning how to fish with Claymont hooking the worm on his line. He remembered a summer movie that the three of them had gone to where Claymont just couldn’t stop laughing. Darren and Agnes had finally made him go to the lobby to get himself under control. He also remembered a family vacation to white, sandy beaches where Claymont had let him drive a Jet Ski with his father holding tightly to him from behind. “Where was that,” He wondered. “I’ll have to ask Mom.”

The whole trip into the woods so far had been a really nice trip down memory lane for Darren. He had been able to completely let go of the anger that had been enveloping him since Claymont’s death.

As he followed the dump truck winding its way through the trees, he was peaceful – relaxed. For the first time since his father’s death he felt as though things would work out.

Shasta was back in his life. They were closer than ever because they didn’t have to hide their true feelings from each other. She was everything to Darren. Whatever happened from this point on, their paths would be intertwined. He would make sure to never lose her again.

There was a break in the trees up ahead. Darren could make out a little shack up there. The windows of the cab were cracked a little, and he could smell sea air coming in. They had arrived. This was the site for the burial.

He followed the sheriff to where the dilapidated shack stood. Not sure about the plan, he parked the rig but left the engine idling.

Sheriff Buchanon had parked the dump truck on the far side of the shack. He was walking over to the rig, so Darren let his window down all the way.

“There it is, Son,” he yelled over the motor. He motioned to the little hut. “Take her walls down and pry up the floor. Then we’ll dig us a damn grave.”

CHAPTER 36

The Burial

D
arren had taken down the only two remaining walls of the outbuilding in no time at all. The sheriff marveled at how the boy wielded the machine. He was a pro. He knocked down the walls then scooped up the rubble to deposit in the woods.

The concrete floor was next. He got the bucket of the rig underneath one side and started to pry it up. The rainfall from yesterday wasn’t much, but it had loosened up the ground. The concrete slab came easily away. Darren balanced it atop the bucket and set it aside to be used later.

While Darren worked, the others just stood around and watched. Their part would come later when filling the hole was necessary.

So far, the team was feeling only mild effects from the rock. Well, everyone except Darren. Sheriff Buchanon had a headache and was still seeing sporadic spots of blue light. Deputy Clay was a little lightheaded and weak. Hunter was, of course, burping stomach acid, and Eli’s head was still hurting.

The dump truck with the safe in the back was parked about thirty feet away from the work zone. The woods became a little denser around the building so it had been hard to get it further away. If Darren kept working at his fast pace, however, they could be finished in a couple of hours and the Rock of Varuupi would be entombed.