Clay and Dylan made it home. They gave little thought to the summer activities they'd left behind. Thoughts were of home and the people who were waiting for their return.
Being home was even better than either of them imagined. One thing they were both looking forward to the most, Mama's cooking. They knew Mama would be ready with all their favorites. For the next few days, the smells from the kitchen would intoxicate them
The Greek was a fabulous cook but to Clay and Dylan, there was no place like home and nothing like Mama's home cooking.
It was after one when Clay and Ivan arrived at Mama's kitchen freshly showered if not well rested. There were hugs and kisses all around. As Ivan suspected, Dylan had been up at nine and Mama said he ate like a lumberjack, yawned after his third cup of coffee, and he said. I need a nap.'"
“He'd still in bed, and the last time I checked, he was sound asleep,” Mama said.
“That's my boy,” Ivan said.
“What was it like, Clay. I've never seen the Pacific Ocean,” Mama said. “I've never seen the Atlantic and it's on the other side of the state where I live.”
“It'll take a week to tell you about it, Mama. It was fabulous. Filled with eccentric characters right out of Robert Lewis Stevenson. It was all wonderful,” Clay said.
“We'll sit and talk when Lucy gets here,” Mama said.
“Where's Lucy this time?” Clay asked.
“She organized and is holding a woman's rights forum in Tallahassee the last few days. They met last night to end the gathering. She was too tired to drive home last night but she called earlier and she'll be home in a few hours.” Mama said.
“Go Lucy go,” Clay said.
“That's a woman who will drag the Neanderthal into the twentieth century kicking and screaming,” Ivan said happily. “From your lips to God's ears,” Mama said vehemently.
“Mama, you're a woman's libber?”
“I am not. I'm an ordinary mother and wife who thinks it is about time men move aside and let women end these silly wars and the macho man culture that does nothing but go in circles.”
Ivan applauded.
Mama blushed. “Is she running for Harry's seat in congress,” Clay asked.
“She doesn't know. Too much to do here in Florida, or so she says. Lord knows someone needs to do something before we end up in another senseless war,” Mama said.
The food came fast and furious. Mama was already for Clay and Ivan when they got there. Fresh biscuits, ham, eggs, hot cakes, and coffee, lots of coffee. As she cooked them breakfast, dinner was already in the oven. Whatever Mama cooked, it wouldn't last long.
When Clay finally pushed his chair back from the table, he'd had his fill.
“That was the best breakfast ever, Mama. It's nice to be home,” Clay said, going to give his mother a hug and a kiss. There would be no mention of Greek and the exotic food he cooked. That would remain Clay's and Dylan's secret. Even at a glace, neither of them looked like they'd gone hungry. Only the schedule that had them on the run from dawn to midnight kept them from blowing up like balloons.
Tag reassured Ivan the day before, “Don't worry about the shop, Boss. I can take care of things for a couple of days. My cousin Raymond will help me with the trash pickup and you can enjoy your man being home for a day or two.”
“He won't be home until early tomorrow. Sleep in. I'll be OK, Boss.” The amount of sleep Ivan and Clay got that first night didn't add up to much but they were together and that's all that mattered. Ivan knew Tag could run the business with his eyes closed. Ivan let Tag do everything but the books and he'd teach him how to do the books in time. If anything ever happened to Ivan, his cove empire was in good hands and he didn't give a thought to checking in with Tag.
Dylan wandered down the stairs in time to butter the last biscuit and get a cup of coffee from the fresh pot on the stove. Mama said nothing about her grandson drinking coffee. He lived in a man's world for two months. Most men drank coffee and now Dylan did.
“Where were you? We waited for you to come up,” Ivan said.
“Oh, I figured you guys needed your sleep. It was early when we finally got here,” Dylan said.
“He got up before his Pop left for work. He went back to bed after trying to eat me out of house and home,” Mama said.
“He was that way on the ship,” Clay said. “I suppose I was too. Something about the sea air. I should weigh a ton, but I don't think I gained any weight.”
“You gained a few pounds,” Ivan said and Mama looked at the two of them. “Your shirt is more snug than if was when you left.”
Ivan fumbled and recovered his own fumble as Clay blushed.
Mama knew that Clay and Ivan were lovers. She didn't know what it meant, and she was satisfied not knowing. Mama just smiled at Ivan's comment and let it pass. She knew God approved of love.
“The food on the boat wasn't too bad then,” Mama said.
Clay and Dylan looked at each other.
“Not too bad, Mama,” Clay said.
“Not too bad,” Dylan agreed.
By the time Saturday rolled around, Lucy was home and Harry flew in from Washington late Friday night. He was on August recess.
Harry called Clay and when he hung up, he said, “I'll see you tomorrow.”
That puzzled Clay but he thought he meant he'd see him Monday when Clay was due back at the Conservancy. Harry was on August recess, but he didn't usually show up at the Conservancy for a few days after coming home.
Turns out that Harry was just a little bit better informed than Clay. It was when Mama called to them to come downstairs for Sunday dinner that Clay understood his mistake.
He reached the dining room a step after Dylan and a step ahead of Ivan and they were singing Happy Birthday to Dylan as he came through the door. There was Senator Harry McCallister singing away.
Dylan was caught by surprise. There was no hint that anything was going on until Sunday when they were called down to dinner. The party was set up that way so Lucy and Harry could attend. It wouldn't do to have a party without Lucy and the senator, the cove's first and second citizens.
Tag hung a sign on the shop saying he'd be back at five. He went home and drove his mother to the Conservancy house. Captain Popov also received an invitation. After being gone since June, they were a festive mix who laughed a lot and overindulged in Mama's cake, cookies, and ice cream.
Harry regaled the gathering with stories of their government at work, or in the funnier cases, when government didn't work at all.
At a point when no one could eat any more cake, John invited Harry, Captain Popov, Tag, Clay, Ivan, and Dylan into the Conservancy house study for a bit of brandy. Dylan drank root beer.
Mama, Lucy, and Twila sat in the kitchen laughing and drinking coffee as Lucy told of how the women's rights forum that she'd organized had gone.
“The one thing we could all agree on was our theme song will be Helen Reddy's, I Am Woman.”
John Olson, Harry, and Popov smoked cigars as Clay answered questions about how the summer's research trip went.
“There are signs, and Bill has seen this reef several times, he believes but hasn't counted, the variety of life on this particular reef is not as varied as it once was and the reproduction is not what it once was. He's going with his instincts and thirty years of experience,” Clay said.
“You can come to my office tomorrow, Clayton. I'll want a full report. You can talk me through it tomorrow, but you need to write it all down for me to present as a research paper on the environment. You'll, of course, need to appear in front of my committee sometime once we come back off of August recess,” Harry said.
“I have something to tell you that won't appear in any of my official reporting. There are questions I have for you, Senator. What do you know about what John Sinclair was up to in the Pacific?” Clay asked.
“Up to. John. John Sinclair died several years ago. He was one of your typical industrial money men who wanted to have it their way and he wasn't bashful about paying for what he wanted.”
“I didn't have it in mind that we'd talk here,” Clay said.
Harry looked around the room.
“I'd trust my life with every man here. You can tell me what you have to say in front of them. I don't keep secrets. You know that, Clayton,” Harry said. “This has to do with the summer's trip.”
“Yes. Bill's been diving on that same reef for a couple of years. Checking and rechecking measurements, temperatures, species and the quality of life. His research was done on the front of that reef. What I want to talk about is what is behind that reef.”
“Do I need a drink before I hear this?” Harry asked. “John, bourbon and branch water please. I think I need a drink anyway.”
“I have something to show you,” Clay said. “I was planning to show you tomorrow but no time like the present. I'll be right back.”
“John Olson kept the brand of bourbon Harry drank and the branch water he liked in it. It only came out when Harry was there. After making Harry's drink, he offered his other guests more brandy. By the time he sat back down, Clay returned with a specimen bag.
On the table beside Harry, he lined up the samples of stone he hadn't turned over to Bill. Harry picked them up one at a time before looking at Clay.
“Rocks?” Harry asked.
“I'm telling you this in confidence. It's something you need to know. I want it explained to me in a way that makes sense, because this is all I have to prove what I found behind Bill's reef. He collected the other stones but I'd take a few to my cabin before Bill saw them.”
“My devious marine biologist at work. You do know that Bill and I are friends,” Harry said.
“Bill and I are friends and for some reason he wants to keep the find to himself. I found it and I want to know how it got there.”
“Tell me the story,” Harry said.
Clay told Harry the story about finding the ruins and that it was a massive debris field with stones that weren't like anything on the bottom where they were diving.
“What's Sinclair have to do with these stones?”
“He'd been diving there for a week before he got sick. He did work for the government, Harry. He had his weight in gold in government contractors. He was one of the chosen. He told someone about what he'd found at that spot. Whatever was there, Sinclair knew it was there and since he was in bed with our government, he probably told one of you about the ruins behind the reef.”
“He didn't tell me. I didn't run in the circles Sinclair ran in. You bring me some rocks and you spin this tale about something being back there. You know far I'd get spinning this yarn on Capitol Hill? What else do you have to substantiate what you're saying.”
“We'll need to talk to Bill about that. He confiscated any material to do with the find,” Clay said.
“Bill took that for a reason. He's not going to share it with us. My guess is that the university will call the shots on this. Until they announce their find, it doesn't exist. I could pick rocks up anywhere and make up the yarn you're spinning,” Harry said. “I need proof.”
“You had a young filmmaker going along. Did he manage to get a gander at what was behind the reef?” Harry asked.
“He did and for reasons I don't understand, he gave all the footage of what's behind the reef to Bill,” Clay said.
“Your filmmaker isn't sharp enough to do what you did and he held out enough footage to make his case?”
“I never thought of that. They'll be gone until the end of August. We can get in touch with him then.”
“He made a documentary?” Harry asked.
“He's making a documentary. They have weeks to go on this summer's research. You only allowed me to go for six weeks.”
“I did and it was a mistake I won't repeat. It'll take the rest of the year to straighten out the mess at the Conservancy. You have your work cut out for you. When will I get to see the documentary.”
“When would you like to see it,” Dylan piped up.
Everyone's eyes went to Dylan.
“I worked with Logan. He gave me a copy of his preliminary documentary for me to show once I was home.”
“You come over to the house with Clay tomorrow. We'll view what you brought back with you. Maybe I'm talking to the wrong man, should I be talking to Dylan, Clay?”
“Appears so. I didn't know he had any film with him,” Clay said.
“This wouldn't have anything to do with the five canisters of film I thought I had in the cabinet at the shop would it,” Ivan asked.
“As a matter of fact, it does,” Dylan said proudly.
“How'd you know those canisters were up there?” Ivan asked.
“I'm a fourteen-year-old boy. We know everything,” Dylan said.
No one else said anything.
Clay immediately thought of the secret compartment where Ivan kept the gun he brought back from over there.
“I kept a journal. I'll bring it. The paper will be written from those notes,” Clay said in an effort to forget the gun and the things fourteen-year-old boys knew.
“He'll appear in your office right after we come back from my birthday present,” Dylan informed the senator.
“What is it I'm giving you?” Clay inquired.
“We're going diving in the Gulf of Mexico. It's time we got our feet wet,” Dylan said.
“No,” Harry said. “Not tomorrow. Go diving the day after tomorrow. You come to my house with that film in the morning. I want to see what my marine biologist was up to all summer,” Harry said. “Be like him to go diving and drown so I could see the film.”
“It's his birthday present. I promised him we'd go diving tomorrow,” Clay said.
“Dylan, you'll humor your Uncle Harry and put off your birthday dive for a day, won't you.”
“Sure,” Dylan said.
“You really have a copy of Logan's documentary?” Clay asked.
“I really do. He added footage to my copy after we watched it. We didn't watch it with that footage on it, but I think it is what was shot behind the reef just before Logan was attacked by the shark.”
“The filmmaker was attacked by a shark?” Harry asked.
“Yeah, he was,” Clay said.
“I don't suppose you got that on film?” Harry asked.
“We were a little busy trying not to get eaten,” Clay said.
“According to what Dylan says, we can surmise, we know how your filmmaker saved the footage from confiscation. He put it on Dylan's copy. Gave it to him for safe keeping. He can contact Dylan at any time and ask to copy his copy. We need to see that film ASAP. I have meetings later. Tomorrow will have to do. Make it at noon. I'll have Twila fix some snacks and we'll watch Mr. Olson-Aleksa's film.”
The following day at noon, Harry opened the front door to admit Clay and Dylan. They walked to his study where Harry made himself a bourbon and branch water and he got one Coke and a root beer from the small refrigerator beside his desk.
“I met a donor this morning at the Conservancy. You do know my desk is piled with papers and you're going to need to go through them to see what's there, Clay. I don't want to go back until that mess is off my desk,” Harry said, sitting behind his desk.
“Tell Peg to send them over to my office. They can pile them on my desk for the time being. Tomorrow morning, I am taking my son on a dive. It's all he's asked for since we've been home,” Clay said.
“One day won't make a difference. You'll be the rest of the month straightening that mess out. It's why I didn't want you to go.”
“What I learned on this trip will more than make up for the little bit of inconvenience for a few weeks. Having something to compare my research in the Gulf with is priceless in my book. I'm ready to get rolling. I feel like I've been away for a year.”
Dylan sat with the film canister on his lap and he said nothing.
“Dylan, you sticking to your story. You don't know what you have there?” Harry asked.
“No, sir. This Logan worked on a lot without me in the film lab. He told me it had some footage that wasn't shown on the Horizon. He specified that they had three more weeks and there was no telling how much footage might replace this footage.”
“Let's go into the theater. See what he has,” Harry said, standing up and going to the door to the right of his desk. “I didn't ask Harvey to come over to run the projector. You'll need to put up with my clumsiness. Sometimes your senator is all thumbs, you know?”
Dylan handed Harry the film and the senator put his glasses on and went to load the projector that sat ready for action.
The house was silent. Clay didn't see or hear anyone moving about. The house was large enough to house an army brigade. Other people may have been in other parts of the house, but it felt empty to Clay. Harry had decided he wanted to see the film first. If it was graphic enough, he'd want other politicos to see it to offer opinions.
This ended Clay's complicity in the conspiracy to bring to light something he didn't feel should be kept secret. It was up to Harry and his people to advance any investigation on what was behind Bill's reef.
The first shot was of the name on the bow, Horizon. The camera pulled back before the film switched to the bow of the Horizon as the bow came up and crashed back into the rough Pacific waters.
“Dramatic,” Harry said. “I like it already.”
It was a good copy of much of the footage that Logan took. First came the ship, then the crew, and then the film showed what it looked like from the bridge as the Horizon made steady progress.”
No one spoke as the forty-five-minute film played. Harry had either fallen asleep or was captivated by what they were watching. When the ruins first appeared, Harry stirred.
“What's this?” Harry asked. “This is what you found behind the reef?” Harry asked, standing and walking up to the screen.
He stood, bent at the waist, examined the lowest part of the ruins. It was the footage Dylan shot while Logan was setting up to film behind the reef the day they went back there.
Dylan had moved back to the ruins, filming from above, and from each side. Then he got close to the bottom to film what would have been the foundation. The pictures were clear but the murky quality of the water was evident.
After the last scene played and Dylan filmed while walking back toward the reef, Harry went back to sit down. He drank from his glass but didn't say anything.
“You say John Sinclair knew about the ruins?”
“Speculation, don't know. He spent a week diving on the site. He wasn't examining that reef for a week. He wasn't there to see the reef. He was there because someone told him where to find those ruins.”
“What you want me to believe is that the US Government is involved in a conspiracy to hide the presence of ruins in the middle of the Pacific Ocean? Why do you think our government would be the least bit interested in ruins on the bottom of the Pacific, Clayton.”
“Who built whatever it was that fell down there? It's exactly the kind of thing our government would discover and think it had to keep secret. Our government thinks everything should be kept secret because they fear that, we the people might get the vapors if we know there are ruins on the floor of the Pacific Ocean.”
“God, you've caught what Ivan has? You're both anarchists.”
“I'm your anarchist, Harry. You've taught me what I know about the US Government,” Clay said.
“That's true. What do we do with this. Bill's not going to be happy his secret is out and I don't know it is out. You know where this reef is. You could go back there if it became necessary.”
“First thing I did when Captain Hertzog dropped the anchor was to check on our location. I wrote it in my journal.”
“OK, maybe Sinclair was told where it was by the government. What did they tell him and what was the point of him going there if he wasn't going to do something about the knowledge. Explain that.”
“He died,” Clay said.
“True. He died and somehow Bill ended up doing research on that reef.”
“They gave Bill some of Sinclair’s papers. There was a map among the papers. There were several places marked on the map. The site where I was is on that map. The captain said that he didn't think Bill was supposed to get that map. He heard someone was fired when he ended up with it.”
“I don't know what to do with this, Clayton. Who do I take it to? What does it mean?”
“It means someone built something there. I think that in itself is something that people should know about it.”
“You want to tell them?” Harry asked. “I don't.”
“You don't know anyone you can take this to? Who do you trust up there? You must trust someone,” Clay said.
“I'm told, and this is hearsay and inadmissible if it's repeated. A newly elected president gets a visit from some very official looking men, during his transition. These men have a book of secrets the president is required to know about. This book is filled with things like your ruins. I'm told it's the most chilling book ever published. There is only one. It's in the hands of these officials. No one knows who they are. The new president gets to read what's in this book once. Then, he's told, 'Reveal anything in this book to anyone anywhere, and you'll be eliminated. Play ball with us and we'll play ball with you. Don't play ball, and you'll be eliminated,'” Harry said. “They leave the president alone in the oval office. After he cleans his britches, he takes a stiff drink.”
“You don't believe that, Harry,” Clay said.
“I believe something like that happens. I believe there are things kept so secret that only a chosen few know about it.”
“Who chooses them, Harry?” Clay asked.
“That is the question, Clayton,” Harry said. “Who indeed?”
“You do know I'm sitting here?” Dylan asked. “I don't know what you're
talking about because I'm a kid, but you're scaring the B'jesus out of me.”
“I'm just saying that something happens to new presidents that alter the way they act as soon as they assume the office. Maybe it's the size and scope of the job. Maybe it’s because of what they find out,” Harry said.
“I've gone as far as I'm going. I'm putting it in your hands. I'm leaving you with the stones to do with what you like. As far as I'm concerned, I've done my duty to God and country, Harry.”
“You know Bill will turn over what he has to the university? They'll decide what to do with it. It's their research,” Harry said.
“So, you're telling me to let it go?” Clay asked.
“I don't plan to say anything to anyone about this. I'll keep my ears and eyes open, but I won't discuss this with anyone,” Harry said. “I'll wait and see if Bill brings it up.”
“You believe what I've told you?” Clay asked.
“Clayton, you're the most trustworthy person I know. Some men would be so frightened by what you've discovered, they'd never mention it to a soul. You've told your senator about it. I'm not going to repeat any of this to anyone,” Harry said.
“Let it lie?” Clay assumed. “I can't advise you on this. I'll tell you if I find anything out in the course of doing business, but I doubt I'll hear about this. The ruins are in the middle of the Pacific under eighty feet of water. Not something your average Joe is going to run across. Let Bill's people do what they're going to do. If I hear anything, you'll know about it. Until that time, you've got plenty of work to do, and me, well, I have a meeting with my campaign manager and his people. Don't mean to rush you off, but you don't want to be here when they arrive.”