Now & Again (8 page)

He scanned the bedroom trying not to panic. “Leah?”

The bedroom door opened quietly and Leah breezed in wearing a bathrobe. She smiled at him. “Didn’t know you were awake.”

Kendall drank in the sight of her and tried to swallow his emotional turmoil. “Where…ah, where were you?”

“I slept in the guest room.” She came and sat beside him on the edge of the bed. “You started really snoring when you came back to bed. I guess
somebody
decided not to wear his mask.” She looked at Kendall with concern. He was holding tight to her hand. “Hey, you okay?”

“Just a bad dream and…my throat is sore.”

Leah grinned at him. “I shouldn’t wonder!” She suddenly closed her eyes and made huge comical snorting noises through her nose and throat.

“Oh c’mon!” He poked her in the side and she jumped with a squeal. “It can’t be that bad!” He laughed and put on a glum look. “Besides, it’s not like I do it on purpose.”

“I know, dear. So, want to tell me about the nightmare?”

“It wasn’t a nightmare, exactly, it was just…I thought I’d lost you and then, when I woke up, I wasn’t sure it was a dream.” He wrapped a protective arm around her and pulled her close.

Leah touched his cheek. “Did you find me again?”

Kendall nodded. “When you came through the door just now.”

“That’s sweet.”

He nuzzled her neck. “A nightmare with a happy ending.”

Leah daintily unwrapped his arm as she got to her feet. “Oh no you don’t! I know how this story goes. I don’t have time for your
happy endings
– I’ve got things to do today.”

She quickly dug through a few drawers in her dresser and grabbed clothes on her way to the bathroom. “I get the shower first, okay?”

Kendall smiled. “Do I have a choice?”

Her cheery voice came from behind the closed door. “No. I’m just being polite. I’m always first because you always like to go downstairs and make your coffee, right?”

“What if I wanted to change things this morning?”

The bathroom door clicked into a locked position. “Not this morning! Go make your coffee, dear.”

But he didn’t leave the room. He sat motionless and enjoyed the simple sounds of his wife getting ready for the day. Was this one of the advantages of multiple memories? Did the part that so hungered for a return to these lost, everyday things, instruct the other parts to shut-up and revel in what they had? He didn’t care about the explanation. He just knew that he enjoyed all the small sounds this morning: her brushing her teeth, the shower coming on, her feet splashing, the water going off, the tiny squeal of the squeegee that she used to keep the doors from streaking, the towel in her hair, the slither of cloth over skin, the hair dryer and the brushes, and all the little precious noises of a shared life.

He got up and slid into his bathrobe, and quietly went downstairs, lest she discovered him listening and wondered what was wrong.

* * *

He was sitting at the kitchen table sipping his first cup of freshly brewed coffee when she came in.

“Well, don’t you look all relaxed?”

He smiled at her. “What’s wrong with that?”

“There’s nothing wrong with that. I’m just surprised is all.” Leah measured water into a small pan and pulled together the fixings for oatmeal. “I figured you’d already be calling the insurance company about your truck and talking to the police and letting work know what happened and – I don’t know, things like that.”

“What’re you doin’ today?”

Leah set the pan on the burner and measured out the dry oats. “I want to get things ready for winter. I have to clean out the flower beds, take out the annuals, store the pots, cover the bushes, finish raking – the usual craziness, why?”

Kendall took another sip of his coffee and tried to sound casual. “Need some help?”

Leah was pulling out a bag of raisins when what he had said sank in. She slowly turned around and put a hand on her hip. “Kendall McCaslin, what has gotten into you?”

“What? I just thought you could use some help.”

“What about your truck and the police?”

“That can wait another day.”

“What about work? You’re always saying they won’t know what to work on without you.”

“Maybe it’s time they learned.”

Leah looked at Kendall and smiled uncertainly. “Yardwork? Really?”

His eyes caught the steaming pan behind her. “Your water’s boiling.”

Flustered, Leah jumped around and pulled the pan back from the burner. She grabbed a wooden spoon and put the pan back on the burner as she stirred in the oats and added a little nutmeg and cinnamon. She glanced at him and then turned back to the stove. “It’s that accident isn’t it?”

Kendall finished his coffee and brought the cup over to the sink beside her. “Maybe I’m startin’ to see things differently now. What if we just say that?”

Leah turned down the burner to let the oatmeal simmer and got out a bowl. She looked at him a long time before answering. “Okay,” was all she said.

Kendall headed back upstairs for his shower, calling over his shoulder. “By the way, I made enough coffee for two. And after I convince Josh to help us, I bet we’ll get done in time to go out for lunch.”

Leah shook her head as she poured the hot oatmeal into her bowl and added raisins and brown sugar. She smiled to herself and dumped in an extra pinch of sugar.

Taylor Nsamba perched on the edge of his desk toying with a set of small nesting baskets, a gift from his sister in Kampala. Woven from dyed raffia, they were shaped like miniature huts, each with its own detachable conical top. They were graduated in size and designed so that each one could fit snugly inside another. Nsamba’s long fingers danced as they manipulated the tiny huts in and out, spreading them in a straight line, gathering them back into a single hut, and then repeating the process.

“I understand your priorities, Tobias you can stop repeating them.” Nsamba kept moving the little baskets as he talked. He was on a speaker phone with two senior arena floor techs, and the conversation wasn’t going well.

“I get it. Here is what you don’t get. Dr. Vandermark has changed all of our priorities. Quyron’s jumpers are the only things he wants tracked now. Got it?”

A confident male voice replied quickly.“Yes, but the new fuel experiments on E75Q2 are at a critical point and so close to a solution – couldn’t we split time between that and…

Nsamba nearly fumbled one of his baskets. “Phillip? Are you still on the call?”

A careful, younger voice answered. “Yes.”

“Was there any confusion about what I said to Tobias a few moments ago?”

“No sir.”

“Do you think you can carry out these instructions without alerting Quyron or her techs?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then do it. It is your group now. Congratulations on your promotion. Am I making myself clear?”

There was a slight pause and then Phillip’s voice again. “I believe so.”

“What?” Tobias sounded agitated. “Taylor, you can’t just shuffle seniority on a whim. I won’t stand for it. You don’t have…”

Nsamba curtly chopped his comment off. “Take a few days and relax, Tobias. In fact, it would be best if you just tabled all your research. Phillip is going to need total access to our computer time allocations to handle this. Thank you, gentlemen.”

“But…”

“Tobias! Unless you want a longer vacation, I would stop talking now. Go home and check back with me in three days.”

There was silence on the line. Nsamba let it go on. He continued stacking and unstacking his little huts.

“Okay then.” Nsamba’s tone was back to warm but firm. “Phillip, I expect updates as soon as feasible – that’s all for now.”

Phillip’s voice sounded cautious. “Thank you.”

Nsamba ever so slightly shook his head. “Echo? Disconnect.”

The young female voice responded clearly and immediately. “Of course, Dr. Nsamba. And Joanna has Mr. Benton waiting in your outer office.”

Nsamba methodically stacked the nesting huts one last time into a single unit and placed it precisely on the corner of his desktop. He breathed in quickly and exhaled. Stepping away from the desk, he stretched and waved his arms in a boxer’s warm-up – alternating to the left and then to the right, to get the blood flowing. He marveled at himself, so many years from the ring and still he warmed up the same way. How predictable, he thought.

“I will see him now, Echo.”

The door clicked open and a broad shouldered man wearing tailored slacks and shirt walked in with a calm familiarity. “As promised, we got some info and an address.”

Aaron Benton’s eyes were never completely still and his body remained coiled even when at rest. Benton was a senior internal security professional – one of Vandermark’s additional people, brought in when the special research group was set up two years before.

Nsamba crossed around and sat at his desk. Framed African folk art decorated the walls behind him, interspersed with handsome landscape photographs of the austere bush country of Northern Uganda. He folded his hands on the desk pad. “You are quick. I am sure Dr. Vandermark will be pleased.”

“Glad to hear it, but it’s not like these people were hiding, huh?” He smiled, knowingly. “Here’s what we got so far. Kendall McCaslin and Josh McCaslin – father and son. Father’s co-owner of a residential heating company, has a nice little house in the suburbs of Cincinnati. Son’s in the army but, for the moment, he’s home on leave. Those are the high points. We’ll confirm all this, per usual, but it looks to be solid. I think we’re good to go.”

Nsamba looked at Benton silently. Benton calmly looked back – both comfortable in the empty moment. Nsamba broke first. “You understand what you’re being asked to do?”

Benton rolled his shoulders nonchalantly. “Think so. We’re workin’ out the
how we do it
but we sure don’t get the
why we’re doin’ it
. So, why?”

“An unusual question for you, isn’t it?”

Benton considered for a moment, and then conceded the point. “Yeah. Sorry. Must be gettin’ old.”

He turned to leave. “Besides, I can tell you don’t know why either, and it’s buggin’ the hell outta you.”

“How can you tell that?”

“I ain’t that old.”

Benton quietly left the office, closing the door behind him. Nsamba swiveled slowly in his chair until he was facing one of the photographs of the bush country. He sat and stared.

Leah topped off Kendall’s coffee and sat back down to an open newspaper. The kitchen was bright and cheery, with light oak cupboards and white table and chairs. The remains of breakfast were on the table and Kendall pondered the coffee mug in his hands.

Josh grabbed for the serving plate, his mouth still chewing. “Anybody else want the French toast?”

Leah didn’t even look up from her reading. “You go ahead, dear.”

Kendall smirked at him. “It’ll help you come out even, since you took the last of the bacon, too.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Leah looked serious as she studied the text of an article about the recent traffic disaster. “The death toll’s risen to 25 now and it says that there are 10 still listed as critical and 43 as serious or stable. They estimate another 50 were treated and released. Says they’re investigating the cause and still trying to identify victims and vehicles.”

She patted Kendall’s hand. “Thank God you two made it out with barely a scratch. It’s amazing, really.”

Kendall gingerly touched his healing forehead. “Well, maybe a little more than
barely
, but close enough.” Josh shot a murky look at his father and was treated to a silent
shut-up
in return.

Neither look was noted by Leah. “You better call the police today, before they call you. You should have done that yesterday, you know.”

Kendall huffed an exasperated breath. “I need to talk to George first and then look at trucks and then I’ll get around to the police. What do they care anyway? I’m just another victim.”

Leah got up and started collecting plates and silverware. “Do the police first, honey. I’m sure they’re wondering what happened to you.” She carried a stack over to the sink and looked back. “And who’s George?”

“C’mon, we’ve had the same insurance agent since we bought the house. You know, good old George, whatever-his-name-is, over at…Cornerstone.”

Leah returned for the rest of the dishes and paused with an empty juice glass in her hand. “You’re the one that switched us to Allstate four years ago because of all those ads you liked, and there’s no
good-old-George
, or any other kind of George over there that I’m aware of.” She tipped her head slightly. “I think there’s maybe a Vince that helped us last time you got in a scrape.” She leaned over him with some concern. “Maybe that bonk on the head did more damage than you think.”

“Wait a minute now.” Kendall was automatically getting up on his high horse, determined to defend himself. “That’s ridiculous, I remember…”

Josh kicked him carefully under the table and Kendall swallowed whatever he was about to say next. “Ah! Well, I do have a headache this morning – didn’t sleep worth a damn again. Hate that CPAP thing! What’d I just say,
George
? Stupid. I meant
Vince
. Yeah, Vince at Allstate, that’s right. George?” He glanced in Josh’s direction. “Who in the world’s George? I must be losing my mind.”

Leah gathered the last of the plates and rinsed them and started to load the dishwasher. “Kendall, don’t forget the police?”

Kendall was getting up and putting on a baseball cap. “I told you, I won’t forget.”

“
First
. Do the police
first
.”

“Fine, I’ll buy the truck
after
I talk to the insurance company, to Vince, and
after
I talk to the police.”

Kendall walked by Leah and gave her a peck on the cheek. “Happy now? Let’s go, Josh. You’re driving.”

Josh stuffed a last bite of dripping toast and handed the dish to his Mom before he followed Kendall out the door.

* * *

The District 2 Cincinnati police department parking lot, off Erie Avenue, was overflowing. An unhappy uniformed officer, wearing a day-glo orange striped vest, straddled the curb at the lot entrance and tried to direct cars in and out. Tempers were short and the right lane blockage on Erie was starting to impede the morning’s traffic flow.