Love, Artifacts, and You by Sarah Ready

16

Andrew

This is undoubtedlythe happiest day of my life.

Emma has agreed to be my wife. I love her and she loves me. I shared with her my past, my scars, and my fears, and she accepted me. Even my worry over her leaving this morning with Van Cleeve to see her father can’t dampen the elation I feel.

Emma and I are getting married.

Shortly after Emma left I went to the jewelry store in downtown Romeo and chose a ring. The box is in my pocket. It wasn’t the most expensive or the biggest stone. I tried to think about what she’d want, and when I saw the ring with rose and white gold entwined together with diamonds set like stars around it, I knew that it was meant for her. The jeweler was able to use their engraving machine to write in runes on the inside, kiss me, I love you.

Walking down the sidewalk of downtown Romeo I feel like I’m grinning like a loon. I can’t help it though, I feel so light and happy.

Two older women and a younger woman in a poodle skirt walk toward me down the sidewalk. They stare as they get close, and one of the old women elbows the younger one in the side.

“That’s the pirate. I bet my liver, he’s the pirate,” she says excitedly.

“Shhh,” says the young woman in the poodle skirt.

“Can you believe it, Petunia? I need a picture.”

She pulls a phone out of her purse and tries to sneakily snap a photo of me. I stare in shocked surprise. The woman named Petunia smacks the other older woman with her purse and the young woman blushes furiously.

They’re only a few feet up the sidewalk from me, a few doors down from the jewelry store.

I step aside for them to pass and nod my head in an awkward greeting.

“Good morning, ladies,” I say.

“Morning,” they chorus.

Then the photo-snatching one bares her teeth in a wide smile and says to the side, “Did you hear his accent? Panty-melting. Erma was spot on again.”

“Shhh,” says the young woman again.

Then they all beam at me as they scurry by. I watch them go, their heads together as they whisper furiously. The younger one looks back, sees I’m watching them, and turns away with an even brighter blush.

I shake my head.

What was that about?

Then I realize they mentioned that Erma character, the soul mate predictor. I smile, turn back toward the house and start to whistle. It looks like she was right. If I’d heard her prediction a few months ago I wouldn’t have believed it. But now, I’m all in. I believe in fate and soul mates, one hundred percent.

Two hourslater I’m in Sol’s Cavern. As long as I’m here in Romeo, I may as well get to work. I’ve brought a digital camera, a tripod, a notebook, and my day pack with the usual gear. I place the camera in the center of the cavern and start taking photos. I’d like to take enough shots to have a vivid 3D recreation of the entire cavern. Then, I’d like high-res close-up photos for academic study. All told, I’ll need to take hundreds of photos today.

When Emma gets back she and I can go to town hall together to register the find. I’ve been thinking about what she said last night. In the middle of the night, after a bought of lovemaking, she mentioned that she might like to stay in Romeo and create an educational archeology site from the cavern and the settlement. She described a museum, tours, an active dig site with opportunities for volunteers, educational programs for kids, ongoing research. She talked about finding funding from donors and working in conjunction with the town of Romeo. When she spoke, her cheeks grew pink and her eyes lit with excitement.

It was a beautiful sight.

I kneel down on the ground and look through the viewfinder at the runes on the cavern walls. My chest expands as I think about what a life in Romeo would look like. Not quite the same as Emma’s original idea of us living in a tent at the edge of an archeology site in Central America. But…similar in many ways. There’d be me, her, and the joy of a new discovery every day.

I snap another picture of the runes and suddenly, I can picture kids touring the site. And among them, my and Emma’s children. They’ll have my black hair, her smattering of freckles, and both of our adventurous spirits. We’ll never have a moment of rest.

I grin at the thought.

Yes. I could definitely stay here.

In fact, maybe I’ll buy the house I’m currently renting. There’s no need for me to go back to New York.

Dom and I built our auction house so that within five years it would practically be able to run itself. I can step aside at any time and the business will still prosper. Yes, I think it’s time to take a step back in pursuit of better things. Like a family.

I think of how Dom always laughed at me when I tried to save all the kids in every city we visited. Maybe if Emma and I start an educational site we can have a summer camp for disadvantaged youth. A summer in a beautiful place like Romeo, with people who believe in your future, could do a hell of a lot of good.

I like the idea so much that I decide to text Emma. I pull my phone from my pocket. No reception. I sigh. It’s already after noon. I should grab lunch soon, I only have a granola bar, some trail mix and a water in my sack. I shrug and decide to crawl out of the cavern for a minute. I can send Emma a quick text and check in with her then come back in and finish up before heading into town.

I drop down to my stomach and start to army crawl through the tunnel. When I do, I see that there’s someone standing at the entrance. I can see the thick legs of a man, clad in dark jeans and construction boots. I can see the bottom half of a flannel shirt. Then I notice something in his rough, meaty hand that’s very familiar from the years I spent in the mine.

A detonator.

The hair on the back of my neck stands on end.

“Hey!” I shout. “Hey, I’m in here!”

I start to crawl quickly through the tunnel.

The man bends down and looks directly at me. “The Castletons send their regards,” he says. Then he starts to sprint back toward the woods. My heart slams against my chest. I know what’s coming. I’m not going to be able to crawl out in time. He’s about to detonate some sort of explosive—likely a water-gel or an emulsion. Depending on how much he’s used, the whole cavern may collapse around me. If I go forward I’ll definitely be caught in the blast. I won’t survive. If I go back, I may survive.

Decision made.

I scramble backward. When I make it back out of the tunnel, I sprint to the far side of the cavern. There’s a boom, shaking, the rumble of falling rock, and a blast of dirt and debris flies out from the tunnel in a cloud that fills the cavern.

I drop to the ground and throw my arms over my head. Small rocks pelt me and cut into my skin. A large, jagged rock strikes my forearm and slices through my skin. I close my eyes against the sting of the dust in the air. I can’t hear anything but a sharp ringing noise in my ears. I cough again, choke on the dust, then press my shirt over my nose and mouth. All the light has gone.

I stay down, crouched on the ground, and wait for any aftershocks. For another explosion. For the dust to settle.

Minutes pass. The ringing in my ears fades, although not completely. The dust settles and I can open my eyes and lower my shirt from my mouth. Slowly, I pull my cell phone from my back pocket and turn on the flashlight.

I choke back a curse when I see the tunnel. It’s completely caved in.

I squat in front of it and stare at the pile of rocks blocking my only exit.

My stomach twists and I fight back the panic trying to rise. This isn’t the same, I tell myself. This isn’t the same. I’m not back in the mine. I’m not trapped. I can get out. I will.

In my mind I see the man looking at me, saying in a gravelly voice, “The Castletons send their regards.”

The harsh sound of my breath is the only noise in the cavern.

I won’t believe this of Emma. Not this time.

I know who did this. It wasn’t her. I’ll get out and I’ll find her, tell her the whole truth, all of it. My revenge, my actions against her, what her father’s done. I’ll tell her everything and let her decide if she still wants me.

I just have to figure out how to get out.

But, having spent five years pulling stone out of tunnels, I have a better idea than most of how to succeed.

Two days.

It’s been two days. I’m down to my last teaspoon of water. My throat burns. The granola bar and trail mix are long gone. My cell phone battery is dead. The bulb of my flashlight has been flickering the last hour and a half.

My hands are blistered, raw, and caked in blood from prying the rocks loose from the tunnel. I’ve used the camera tripod as a lever and my day pack as a sledge. But each time I pull a rock free, another falls from the wall into its place. The task is endless.

The pile of rocks in the cavern has grown and grown. I look up at the runes each time I pull a rock from the tunnel and place it in the pile. None of the poem was damaged in the explosion. Thank goodness. Emma would be devastated if it was.

Where is she?

She should’ve been back by now.

She should’ve wondered why I haven’t called, where I am.

She should be here.

Where is she?

I won’t doubt her again. I won’t. But where is she?

I claw another stone free.

Three days.

I shove the final stone free from the mouth of the tunnel and fall forward onto the cool, mossy ground of the forest. I rest my cheek against the moss and breathe in the fresh scent. I lay on my stomach, with my arms spread out, my fingers grasping the ground. I take in the waning light of day. It’s nearly dusk. I blink at the golden light on the bark of the trees.

I’m free.

My bag, my camera, they’re all still in the cavern. But I don’t want to crawl back in to retrieve them. I’ll come later. With an excavation crew.

I push up onto my knees and take a deep breath. My head spins, so I shake it. I need water and food, then rest, in that order. But first, I need to find Emma. I climb to my feet and begin the mile hike out of the forest. When I arrive at the trail head, my Land Rover is still parked in the field at the edge of the dirt access road. It’s covered in a fine layer of dirt and a few fallen leaves but isn’t any worse for wear. I unlock it and plug in my phone.

I have a countless number of missed calls and texts.

I don’t bother with them. Instead, I dial Emma.

I drum my fingers against the steering wheel. My head swims, but the adrenalin rush of getting out of the cavern keeps my upright.

“Pick up, Emma,” I say.

The phone continues to ring, until her voicemail picks up.

“This users mailbox is full…” a generic voicemail begins. I hang up and try calling again. The same message comes on. “This user’s mailbox is full…”

I take a deep breath and try to think. My mind is fuzzy from lack of water, food and sleep. I decide to send her a quick text. I type in call me. It’s the best I can come up with in my state. Then I drive back to the house.

I down water, slowly so as not to throw it back up. Eat food, even more slowly. Then I shower and change into clean clothes. Finally, I sit down in the kitchen with another glass of water and look at my phone. Nearly all the missed calls are from Dom.

I dial his number. He picks up on the first ring.

“Andrew. Thank goodness. Where have you been? Please tell me you haven’t done anything rash. I cannot yank us out of this igniting minefield if you have.”

I hold the phone to my ear, stunned, not sure how to respond.

“Andrew, are you there?”

I shake my head, try to clear it. “I’m here.” I clear my throat. My voice is scratchy.

“Where have you been? It’s been insane here. I swear, if you’ve gone off the deep end I will personally—”

I cut him off. “I’ve been trapped in a cave-in the last three days. Cut off without food or water. Left for dead. Courtesy of Edward Castleton. I need you to start from the beginning. I’m out of the loop.”

Dom is silent for a moment, then he lets out a string of cuss words. I take a long sip of the water and wait for him to stop.

Finally, he’s done. “I’m texting you a series of articles. You can read those. Long story short, you’re all over the news as an unhinged stalker that spent years harassing and destroying Emma Castleton. The media’s having a field day.”

My blood runs cold.

“Where’s Emma?” I say.

“Somehow they have a source giving all sorts of details. It’s all circumstantial, but it doesn’t look good. Our profits have tanked, customers are boycotting. Our lawyers are on it, we’re preparing a libel suit, we’re making a case to go after Castleton—”

“Where’s Emma? Do you know where she is?” I demand. My throat is tight and the room is closing in around me. It’s dark, the sun is down, and it’s getting darker. I close my eyes and drag in a breath. “Dammit, Dom. If you know where she is, tell me.”

He sighs, “I imagine she’s with her fiancé.”

I sit back down.

“Read the articles,” says Dom. “Then call me and I’ll review what the legal team has prepared so far.”

He hangs up. I watch as the texts come through.

With a detached feeling, one of unreality, I click through them. It’s all laid out. All my sins, and theories of sins I never committed, it’s all laid out for the world to see. Neither Dom, nor Emma, nor Edward gave any comments to the press. There’s speculation as to whether or not Suffolk Auction House can survive the scandal and speculation of criminal investigations into my past. Good luck. Everything I did, although morally questionable, was all completely legal. There is one last article. An engagement announcement for Justin Van Cleeve and Emma Castleton.

I drop my phone to the table. It clatters against the wood and then stills. I put my head in my hands.

So. That’s it then.

A heavy weight settles on me and I don’t know that I’ll be able to shake it off.

It’s funny. When I came to Romeo I had every intention of breaking Emma’s heart. Instead, she broke mine. I was wrong. I was never her Visigoth, she’s always been mine. My destruction. My ruin. My more.

My phone rings, it’s Dom. I pick it up.

“What?” My voice sounds hollow.

He sighs. “Do we go after them? Libel. Defamation. The works. We can dig into Castleton’s past. We all know the guy was not above board.”

“No. Leave it.” I say. There’s a deep, aching weariness settling over me.

“I don’t think we should let this stand—”

“Leave her alone,” I say. I look down at the kitchen table and run my hand over its surface. Was it only a few nights ago that we were here together? I thought she was mine.

I close my eyes. I’m tired. So tired of it all.

“Leave her alone.” I say again.

“Andrew. You alright? I can send up the plane. You can come back to NYC tonight.”

“No. I’m fine. It’s fine.” I stand up from the table and walk up the stairs to the bedroom. “I need a night’s sleep. Then I’ll pull together a plan to deal with the fallout.”

I stop at the door to the bedroom and look at the bed. The sheets are still rumpled from our last night together. I flinch as the moonlight catches the engagement ring box next to the bed.

“For what it’s worth,” says Dom, “I don’t know what happened in your past, but I’m your friend and I’ll stand by you. Alright?”

I tear my gaze away from the ring and walk back down the hall.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” I say.

I hang up and wander into a guest room I’ve never been in before. I collapse onto the bed. Before I fall asleep I reach over to the nightstand and turn on the light.

The darkness is back.