Kindergarten Baby: A Novel (35 page)

She let out a long breath, trying not to smile. “I can only imagine.”

“There isn’t much more to tell,” continued Jake. “I assume Anthony was sickened by the sight, because he didn’t stick around to ask any questions. He ran as fast as he could, and he headed to your house.”

She hesitated, torn between feeling gratified at the change in Anthony’s fate and feeling sympathy. “What will Anthony do now?”

“Oh, I imagine his knuckles are pretty raw from slugging the punching bag at the gym. And he’s probably putting quite a few miles on the treadmill waiting for you to come home.”

CHAPTER FORTY

Gentle raindrops drifted in a mist from the darkening sky, and the dust settled under its pressure. The air was filled with a damp, piney scent, and the temperature dropped along with the rain, just enough to be perfect‌—‌not too warm, not too cool. After asking her permission, Jake set his cardboard box of folders inside the tent until the shower had passed.

“Lindsey,” he called from inside the tent. “Could you come in here for a second?”

She popped her head in, then settled on the ground beside him when he invited her just to “listen.” Rain tapped against the top of the tent in a soothing rhythm.

“Let’s stay in here for a while,” she suggested. “We can hear the rain on the tent, we can see the rain through the screen door flap, but we won’t have to get wet.”

“I like the way you think. I’ll just get Malcolm and be right back.”

Wendell followed the other two into the tent, and for the first time, the whole crew sat cozily in the nylon, outdoor home.

Lindsey glanced at the box in the corner of the tent. “Any more stories? Any more shocking information you want to share with me? Now is as good a time as any.”

He tilted his head, looking a little guilty. “Well, I did do a little extra research when I had the time. You have interesting people passing through your life, Linds. I didn’t even try to learn anything about that last guy, Martin. That situation seemed to have worked itself out, run its course, and there really wasn’t time. Did you want me to do some digging?”

She pictured Martin’s warm smile, remembered the well-meant, though cardboard kisses. “No. He was a nice guy. Basically, he was good to me. It just wasn’t meant to be. But Emmett, well, that’s another story.”

“You’re right about that. Since I’m not in law enforcement, I couldn’t access many details, but there is no doubt that he was‌—‌sorry, that he
is
—a professional con man. We know he conned women for their money, but I think he also conned business owners. It wasn’t just you he took advantage of. Apparently he’s pretty talented.”

“I guess I’m a poor judge of character.”

“No, Lindsey. You’re missing my point. He’s conned the best of them. And to be fair, I actually don’t believe that was his initial intention when he met you on the trail in the Grand Canyon. Those actions were probably genuine, since he didn’t know you or that you would be on the trail that evening. He was merely helping you because you needed help.”

The rain began to come down more heavily, and Jake raised his voice to be heard. “I don’t think he switched into con man mode until he saw that you were staying in the most expensive dwelling in the entire national park. What I did learn is that he has used at least four aliases in the past‌—‌probably more. And there was evidence that arrests had been made for forgery and extortion in the past, but oddly enough, I could find no evidence of any convictions, which is another testament to his talents. It seems that, as of now, he’s off the radar, vanished into thin air. That’s all I’ve got so far, but I’m not done checking him out.”

The pleasant rain shower from before had evolved into a real storm and was now bombarding the small dwelling with buckets of water. The tent leaned to the left, then to the right as a strong wind whipped around them. Lindsey smacked her forehead with her hand.

“Ugh! The Indian! He was right. He warned me, but I completely forgot,” she cried.

Now Jake looked confused. “The Indian?”

He leaned closer so he could hear her brief story about the unexpected encounter with the Native American man from the Zuni pueblo, including his suggestions that they either leave or prepare for the pending storm. Too late for either option; they were in the midst of it now. The storm intensified with each passing minute.

Rivulets of rain teamed up to form deep puddles that overflowed onto the dirt road, turning it into a river. The river, affected by the downhill slope and the whipping of the wind, carried the illusion of miniature, white-capped waves on its surface and seemed to have a hypnotic effect on Lindsey. A deafening crack of thunder propelled Jake into action. He grabbed a dazed Lindsey with one hand, the birdcage with the other, and made a dash to her car with Wendell right behind.

“Get in and stay put,” he shouted over the raging noises of the storm. “I’ll be right back.”

She watched him throw everything he could find‌—‌camp chairs, cooler, and several large rocks‌—‌inside the tent to keep it from blowing away, then he grabbed the pillows and hurried back to the cars. There wasn’t enough room for both Jake and Wendell in Lindsey’s car, so after giving her a pillow, a blanket, and one of his walkie-talkies, he and the dog jumped into his Jeep to wait out the storm.

Through the window she saw Wendell shake, leaving less rainwater on the dog but a whole lot more on Jake and the interior of his Jeep. Jake’s walkie-talkie clicked on. “Ah, yes,” Jake said. “Nothing like the smell of a wet dog confined in a small area. Good thing I like you, Wendell.”

It felt good to laugh. They both managed to sleep a little, and it was reassuring to hear Jake’s voice over the walkie-talkie every now and then.

“Lindsey, are you still awake? Over,” whispered Jake at one point.

“Yes, Jake. I’m awake. You don’t have to whisper. Malcolm is awake, too.”

“I just wanted to make sure you were, well, all right. You seemed really bothered by the storm. Over.”

“I’m okay now,” she assured him. “Are
you
all right? And must you say ‘over’ each time?”

“That’s walkie-talkie talk, woman. You copy?”

She giggled, thoroughly enjoying how he could make her smile. “Okay, then. Copy that, and a big 10-4 back at you,” she replied.

He chuckled. “Try to get some sleep, Linds. I just wish that we…‌I wanted to…‌Oh, never mind. I’ll talk with you in the morning. Good night.”

“Good night, Jake. And thank you…‌for everything.

When the sun rose, the storm was gone, and so was the tent. The campsite was unrecognizable, littered by broken branches. The actual tent site was now a small pond, the fire pit a mound of mud, and the tent and its contents were nowhere to be seen. The morning air smelled fresh and fragrant, and the trees sparkled with tiny raindrops still clinging to the leaves and pine needles. But the ground was thick with sloppy, slippery, red mud that stuck like glue to everything that came in contact with it. The clean up would be challenging.

Lindsey jumped onto a large rock and folded her arms over her chest. “I declare this area to be an official disaster zone,” she announced, then dropped her arms. “Where do we begin?”

Jake scratched his matted and mussed hair. “I’m wondering if we should begin at all. Maybe we should just cut our losses and go back to Tucson.”

An unexpected wave of desperation and panic overcame Lindsey. “No! We can’t end this‌—‌whatever this is‌—‌like this. Does that make any sense?”

“Yeah,” he said vaguely, sounding both tired and sore. Then he muttered, “No, not really.”

“Let’s at least try to find the tent,” she insisted. “We don’t want to litter the Zuni Mountains.”

After walking the hillside in a search and rescue formation of two, they discovered the battered and torn tent about a hundred yards to the south, trapped in a deep ravine. Some of their things were still in the tent, including clothing, sleeping bags, a flashlight, and the filing box. All were soggy and in poor condition, but at least they hadn’t been strewn throughout the forest. The cooler and the camp chairs had dropped out of the tent about fifty yards before it landed, and they’d stayed tucked and tangled in a grove of thorny bushes. Lindsey made one trip up the hill, dragging the empty and ripped tent, while Jake made several trips to carry its former contents and any other items he came across between the tent’s final destination and the old campsite.

Attempting to ignore the reawakened pain in her wrist, Lindsey began hanging the recovered items out to dry in the sun. During a brief break she watched Jake set the chairs and the cooler on a flat, sunny, not too muddy spot, then drag away some of the branches that had fallen, saving the best ones for firewood. Starting a fire would be a greater challenge today.

“Jake, I think we should try to set the tent back up. It’ll dry faster that way. But I only found two tent stakes, and we really need at least four. Eight would be even better.”

“I’m on it, Linds,” Jake said, then retrieved his all-purpose knife from the glove box in his vehicle and took a crack at carving a few wooden tent stakes.

By mid afternoon, the tent was almost dry. Except for the rips on the floor and around the door, it was actually usable. Once the sleeping bags were dry, they could be brought in to cover the holes on the floor, and Jake had some double-sided tape that would temporarily help with the door.

“You carry double-sided tape in your car?” Lindsey asked with a hint of a smile.

“Sure. You never know when you might need it. It’s handy stuff.”

“Uh, huh.”

By sundown, the tent was ready for occupancy, a fire was burning, and the exhausted campers sat by it, sipping red wine and eating spaghetti from a can‌—‌part of Jake’s emergency rations. Fortunately, Lindsey had kept the dog food and the bird food in the trunk of her car, so the pets’ meals went unchanged. Jake’s warped and sagging box of files sat beside him, near the fire. She had to wonder if its placement was in preparation for destruction by fire, or if it was merely to accelerate the drying process. Or was there more to learn?

Still staring at the box, Lindsey said, “I know you told me a little bit about the topic of your thesis, Jake, but I’m not sure I understand your hypothesis. What exactly were you trying to prove?”

He took a sip, looking thoughtful. “At first the big question was whether women who were alone‌—‌without a life partner, regardless of the cause‌—‌grew or regressed.”

“And the answer is…?”

“Well, I botched up my research in so many ways, but if I was forced to put an answer into words‌—‌which I guess is what you are asking me to do‌—‌I’d have to say that some women alone grow and become stronger, wiser, and eventually even happier human beings, but others regress and shrink away from the world around them. Most women alone journey back and forth, spending periods of time growing and periods of time regressing.”

Lindsey scowled at him, unimpressed. “You had to conduct all that research to come up with that answer? All humans, women and men, alone or with partners, go back and forth like you mentioned.”

“Leave it to a kindergarten teacher to tell it like it is, with simplicity and clarity.”

They both smiled and went back to their wine, gazing at the stars in the recently darkened sky. A silent but profound and undefined sadness hovered around their campsite like early morning fog, and she knew they both felt it. This would be their last night in the Zuni Mountains. Tomorrow they would head back to Tucson in their separate vehicles, back to their own lives‌—‌lives that would be different now after all that had transpired. So when a brilliant, falling star arced across the jet-black sky, she silently and secretly, wished upon that star. She wondered if he did, too.

“Hey, Jake,” Lindsey asked gently, breaking the stillness. “Ever since you told me about Shawna’s life, I’ve been thinking about her. What do you think she will do now?”

“Oh, I didn’t tell you?”

“I don’t think so. Not that I recall.”

“Well, after the infamous assault and night-long conversation, I went home and called my sister, Julie. She’s a psychiatrist up in Oregon. I told her about Shawna, and Julie thinks Shawna, with some serious, lengthy therapy, might be a candidate for turning the clock back, reversing some of her physical changes, then spending some time investigating and relearning how to be a man. Her desire to become a woman might be due, primarily, to her father’s influence rather than her own wishes. It’s a complicated long shot for sure, but Julie thinks it’s worth exploring. She called Shawna and easily convinced her to postpone the sexual reassignment surgery for a while, and Shawna seemed willing to talk with her again. So we’ll see.”

“Now
that
would be one heck of a story!”

“I agree, and so does my sister. Shawna’s life story has Hollywood written all over it.”

As the evening progressed, sounds of the night emerged with great vigor. Insects, owls, and distant coyotes sang their songs as Lindsey and Jake sat quietly, appreciating all nature had to offer.

Lindsey suddenly blurted out, “Hey! Where’s my mail?”

“What?”

“My mail. You know, one of your main reasons for coming to find me.”

“Oh, right.” He flashed a sideways smile. “I guess I almost forgot about that.”

“Well, I doubt the United States Postal Service will forget that you forgot.”

“Yeah. Sorry. Where did I put your mail? Hmm. There wasn’t much, really. But I remember moving it to somewhere it would be safe. Oh, sure. I placed it in the last and empty file at the back of this box,” he said, gently sliding the damp and misshapen box closer. He frowned into it and came up empty-handed. “I don’t understand. It was right here. It was. I guess we could send out a search party in the morning.”

On that note, they both turned toward Wendell’s pile of stuff. He’d started up his own search and rescue, and had quite a variety of saliva dampened items in his collection. Lindsey jumped to her feet and headed to his pile.

The first thing she found was a dead squirrel. “Ooh, yuck.” She dug a little deeper, then stood up. “Wait! Wait! This could be it‌—‌or at least some of it.” She brought everything that resembled a paper product back to the fire to take a closer look. “Like you said, not much here: a piece of what used to be a bag of Cheetos, someone’s water bill, pages from a magazine‌—‌I think they might be from
Teaching Today
.”