The Digger's Rest (24 page)

“
Yes, sir,” Simon replied sounding like
he’d just had the wind knocked out of him.

Mitch started dusting him off quickly, like a
parent who’d just picked his kid up off the playground after he’d
fallen off the monkey bars. “What happened?”

“
I just tripped over something. That’s
all,” Simon said quietly, an almost ‘Aww, Dad, I can do it myself’
inflection in his voice, but inside not really sorry for the
attention. He could never be sorry for that.

Lady Madeline’s voice came from behind them.
“I think this might be the culprit,” she said, a regular Miss
Marple, pointing down to the area not far from Simon’s feet. Mitch
looked down closely. It looked to him like a granite block ninety
percent buried under the ground with the remaining ten percent
obscured by weeds.

It was a completely different kind of block
from the rest of the structure. He pulled out a few clumps of the
grass and weeds surrounding it exposing a few more inches of its
surface. Lady Madeline got down on her knees to get a closer look.
“Definitely man-made and geometric,” she said in a professional
sounding pronouncement, looking up at Mitch, then produced a small
spade from her bag and began digging gingerly around the block.
“It’s carved,” she said as she removed a few inches of dirt. By
then Mitch was down on his knees next to her.

“
Whatever it is, the carving is
stylized, not written. It’s a statue of some sort,” Mitch said and
looked up to Simon. “My boy, you are a natural born divining rod,”
and he laughed. Simon just shrugged, blushing.

“
If you say so, Dr. Bramson,” he said
and smiled bashfully.

“
Well, don’t just stand there. This is
your first discovery. Get down here and dig it,” Mitch said, waving
him down. A few seconds later, Simon was on his hands and knees
next to Mitch and Lady Cotswold pulling dirt away from the object.
Sandrine took Simon’s camcorder and called out to them to get their
attention.

“
Say cheese,” she said laughingly, and
hit the button as soon as they all looked up, each of them covered
in earth up to their elbows; Simon with some on his
nose.

An half an hour later they had uncovered
about a three square foot patch of dirt about a foot deep,
revealing what appeared to be the top of some sort of statue. From
the angle it laid, they all agreed that whatever kind of statue it
was, the position indicated that it had been tipped over and was
resting at a thirty degree angle.

By then, both Mitch and Lady Madeline agreed
that the carving was not only Celtic in style but also very, very
old. Lady Cotswold put it at about six to seven hundred years,
Mitch thought it was older, over a thousand years old and, ‘Not for
nothing’, to use an old New York phrase; this was his area of
expertise.”

Once they gauged the approximate size of the
thing, they could then approximate that when it was set upright,
the floor of the building was probably not much deeper than what
they’d uncovered. They stopped there, agreeing that it was best to
have the proper equipment with them, and lengths of rope, before
going any further.

The next plan was for Sandrine and Mitch to
go on a walking expedition in opposite directions to see if there
were any outlying structures or edifices beyond what were once the
walls of the courtyard around a larger main building, while Lady
Cotswold and Simon stayed in the clearer area to measure the
statue, record it with the camcorder and take still photos to plot
out their future plan of approach.

As they headed in opposite directions Mitch
and Sandrine each checked their watches and agreed to return to the
main site in no more than an half an hour. Mitch went west;
Sandrine east.

Sandrine, although her upbringing wouldn’t
allow her to exhibit too much emotion in public, was privately as
thrilled as she’d ever been. It was her first real field work, too,
and she planned on making the most of it, so she set out with her
mind geared not to come back until she had something to show for
it.

As she walked through the woods, she couldn’t
help but think how incredibly beautiful nature was, the trees, the
ferns, the small brook she had to jump over to continue on, all of
it seemed so unspoiled, so unreal, primordial. But she found
nothing. The land was flat with no sign of any remains of building
activity. She supposed that maybe with a thorough raking, she might
turn up some small artifacts, but not the extraordinary find she
was hoping for.

After a while, she started to get warm and
tired from the strong sun rays that seemed to dance before her
eyes, indiscriminately washing over her through the gaps in the
branches as she walked, creating a light show that reminded her of
a program she once saw at a planetarium, hypnotizing.

She saw the remains of a large log from an
old fallen tree, long decayed, and decided to sit on it and rest
for a while, not noticing the small white patch of skull bone
exposed through the moss growing out of the end of the log by her
hand, or the small, stained foot bones coming out of the other end
of the log, mixing with the twigs of the long dead tree.

She felt so comfortably warm and free she
took off her shoes and sweatshirt, leaving only her tee shirt on to
get some sun on her neck and arms. She just wanted to sit for a
while and rest there in the coolness of the surrounding trees with
just the long wands of sun to warm her.

It made her sleepy, the lids of her eyes
beginning to close slowly. When she couldn’t keep them open any
longer, she laid back against the standing tree behind the log
where she sat, closed her eyes and started to drift off, lulled by
the warmth of the sun overlaid by the coolness of the light
breeze.

“
Sandrine…Bienvenue, Sandrine. Comment
ça va?” a soft, smooth voice whispered to her as she laid dozing,
lost somewhere between consciousness and sleep.

“
Tres bien,” Sandrine murmured, licking
her lips as her head lolled to one side, comforted further by
speaking in her own language. Her hands went to the front of her
tee shirt, pulling it out of her jeans.

“
Tu es tres belle,” the voice whispered
as she pulled the rest of her tee shirt up and started caressing
her breasts.

“
Ummmmmercie,” she thanked the voice,
letting one hand slide down to the button at the top of her jeans,
undoing it. Once undone, she felt a pair of invisible hands gently
tug at the waist of her jeans, slowly pulling them down, exposing
her delicate pink lace panties. She reached her hand down into them
and felt herself.

“
Tres bon, Sandrine,” the voice
whispered in her ear as she touched the soft mound she found
beneath the pink lace.

Suddenly, there was the sharp sound of a
branch snapping, and another sound, a dull thud like something
heavy hitting a tree followed by another voice, not far way,
drawing her out of her trance-like sleep.

“
Ouch! Damn!” Simon whined loudly, then
called out, “Sandrine, are you there?” Sandrine jumped up not
realizing that she was naked from her neck to her knees until she
felt her breasts bounce freely against each other; her tee shirt
gathered around her neck.

Overcome by a rush of embarrassment at being
caught that way, she kept quiet, working nervously until she had
pulled her jeans back up and had tucked her tee shirt back in
before anyone could see her.

“
I’m over here, Simon,” she called out,
frantically searching her mind for how her shirt could have come
off without her knowing it. By the time he could see her, she’d
already managed to get her sweatshirt back on and at least give the
appearance of calm.

“
Whew,” Simon said when he saw her, a
look of relief washing over his face. “Boy am I glad to see you.
When you didn’t come back, Dr. Bramson and Lady Cotswold got
worried, so I volunteered to come and look for you. They want to
leave so we’ll have enough time to get ready for
dinner.”

Sandrine put on a quick smile, said, “Thank
you, Simon. It was very kind of you to think of me. I sat down for
a moment and just…fell asleep,” and began to follow him back to the
others. But her mind, still hazy from her strange nap, was taken
somewhere else completely.

As she watched Simon move awkwardly through
the brush a few feet ahead, she was suddenly struck by an image out
of her childhood, from a story book. His beautiful black curls, a
lacey crown around his head, his face unspoiled, virginal in its
innocence, creating the impression of secret sensuality hidden
behind those accepting blue eyes. His limping movement made her
think of the gait of a pony. He was like a mythological creature
from an ancient Greek forest, half boy, half stag; a youthful Pan
without his flute, and she felt her loins and nipples stir
again.

“
Au Revoir, Sandrine. A bientot,” a
laughing breeze whispered as it passed her ear. She turned quickly
to look back over her shoulder, felt a chill crawl up her spine
like a creeping shadow, and hurried to catch up.

When they got back to the main site, Mitch
and Lady Madeline were pacing, waiting impatiently, worried that
Sandrine had gotten lost, and Simon had gotten hurt trying to find
her. Mitch wanted to go look for her himself but then Simon
volunteered. Mitch had hesitated, thinking about Simon’s leg and
was just about to say that it was probably best if he went when
Lady Madeline touched his arm and said to him quietly, “You must
allow the boy to find his way,” so Mitch swallowed his words and
let him go.

When they saw the young pair come through the
break in the trees, both Mitch and Lady Madeline were much
relieved. Mitch saw the large, ragged tear in Simon’s pants just
below the knee of his bad leg, spotted with blood. He rushed over
to the boy. “Simon, what happened? Are you alright?” he said and
took him by the arm to a nearby ruin wall about three feet high and
sat him down. Simon looked at him, confused.

“
Huh”?

Mitch went straight to work, kneeling down to
pull up his pant leg and get a look at the damage. Lady Madeline
was behind him with her bag. There was a jagged gash in Simon’s
shin, not very deep but about two inches long making it look worse
than it was.

“
It’s nothing, Dr. Bramson. I just
smacked my leg against a tree. I didn’t even know it was bleeding,”
Simon said. Mitch looked to Lady Madeline for what to
do.

Having realized from the moment she saw
Simon’s brace the special bond Mitch had with the boy, Lady
Madeline took over and pulled a small first aid kit she always kept
in her shoulder bag for occasions just like this. She had learned
long ago never to go anywhere without it, and depending on her
destination, it often included snake bite kits, salt tablets,
antibiotic ointments and anything else she might need to ward off
small tragedies.

“
Let me…” she said and got down on her
knees next to Mitch. “It’ll be fine,” she said to him firmly, but
she could see in his eyes the guilt he was feeling for not having
gone himself. Leaning into him she whispered, “Every boy gets a
scraped knee, Mitchell. Didn’t you?”

“
Yes, but…” Mitch said. She cut him
off.

“
Every boy gets a scraped knee,” she
whispered again, then took out sanitary wipes and started to clean
the wound. Mitch backed off. Simon flinched at the cold, stinging
touch of the wipe.

Lady Madeline looked to Sandrine who got the
message without words and sat next to Simon and took his hand.
Mitch just stood there with his hands on his hips feeling
helpless.

After Simon’s wound was cleaned, Lady
Madeline called Mitch back to show him her handiwork. “See it’s
just a small cut,” she said as she applied a layer of antibiotic
ointment to keep out infection and help it heal. When Mitch saw
that after the blood was gone, it really was only a small cut, he
sighed with relief.

Having succeeded in handling the situation,
Lady Madeline covered the cut with a gauze bandage and adhesive
tape and pulled Simon’s pant leg back down. “There, now. He’ll be
right as rain in no time,” she said giving Mitch a self-satisfied
smile, then turned to Simon, “Won’t you now?”

“
Yes, ma’am. I’ll be fine. Thank you,”
Simon said shyly and blushed.

***

When they got back to the inn there was no
sign of Malcolm or Deck. Jed was at the podium studiously writing
in the reservation book.

“
Good evening, Jed." Mitch said. The
young man looked up and smiled.

“
Good evening to you too, Doctor,” Jed
replied then looked around at the rest of the group. “I see you’ve
brought guests for dinner. Looks like you’ve all had a jolly time
making mud pies.”

It hadn’t occurred to Mitch until that moment
that Jed might not have met Lady Madeline or Sandrine when they
arrived and, on top of that, they were all covered in dirt. Not
skipping a beat he made the proper introductions. “Jed Farthing,
this is Lady Madeline Cotswold. She’s part of our party staying in
the cottage.

Then it dawned on Jed. “Yes, Lady Cotswold. I
was aware that you were staying with us. My apologies for not
having met you sooner,” Jed said taking her hand and bowing
slightly.

“
And this is her assistant, Miss
Boucher.” Sandrine stepped forward to take Jed’s hand.

The minute Jed and Sandrine’s eyes met, Lady
Madeline and Mitch looked at each other. Both of them had seen it.
Mitch cleared his throat, “Uhum!” snapping Jed back to reality as
Sandrine stepped back to stand next to Simon.

“
So, Dr. Bramson, I can put you down
for four to dine tonight?” he asked Mitch politely, a shine in his
eyes. Mitch just smiled to himself and rolled his eyes
thinking,
Not my first time at the rodeo,
boy.