Don Bruns - Too Much Stuff

“And?”

“And, it’s a gold detector equipped for use underwater as well as on land. It can find gold and silver six feet from where it detects the metal. So if there were six feet of coral or silt or whatever, this baby should find it. It’s got an underwater earphone that I can listen to and it’s weighted so it will stay in one spot and not drift around in the water. I think we lucked out on this one.”

She appeared to be significantly impressed. “So this expedition is an additional three hundred fifty dollars, right?”

“Gotta spend it to make it.” James smiled.

“I want to say that you boys, and you too, Emily, you have shown me a great deal of ingenuity. I was skeptical at first, but you’ve found the letter, you made arrangements to have it put back together, and now you’re set for the dive tomorrow.” She smiled, a smug look on her face. “Emily, despite my initial concern, I think you were an excellent addition to the team.”

James glared at Mrs. T.

I would have felt a whole lot better if the event had been set with a more high-profile dive shop, but the consensus was that using this little hole-in-the-wall guy, it would remain more secret. The fewer people who knew about it, the better.

“So it’s all set. Tomorrow morning you’ll make the dive and we’ll see what we can find.” Mrs. T. stood up and basically herded us out the door.

The three of us walked down the stairs to the beach, hearing the loud laughs and music coming from Holiday Isle and Rumrunners.

“You’re supposed to dive with someone else.” Em eased into a lounge chair, looking across the water at the world famous tiki hut bar. “I’ve read enough to know that it’s stupid to dive alone.”

“Buddy diving would be the safest thing to do,” I had to agree, “but hey, no one here dives, Em. Besides, it’s two feet to twenty feet. Hardly a depth that I should have a problem with.” Considering I hadn’t dived in three years, any depth could cause a problem. But my macho instinct had kicked in.

My instructor used to dive solo. However, I will always remember her instructions. “Wait until you’ve had at least a hundred dives before you try it. And even then, remember that when you’re solo, no one has your back. No one.”

“Pard, I know this may be a stretch, but we’ve already told Skeeter that you’re going down to look for coins. No big deal about that, right?”

“It’s our cover, James. That’s what we decided.”

“Right. So what if we tell that cover story to someone else?”

Em gave him a disapproving glance. “Who else do you want to tell? We could take out an ad in the local paper-”

“Just a thought, folks. I know a diver who can be suited up and ready first thing in the morning. And as long as we don’t tell this diver the real reason we’re going down-”

“James, this isn’t a good idea.”

He nodded. “Oh, and it’s a good idea to send you down there by yourself. Especially after the story Skeeter told us about-” he stopped, a chagrined look on his face. “I’m sorry, Skip.”

“What story? What did this Skeeter tell you?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Tell me.” Em’s signature stone-cold instruction.

With that tone of voice, I had to. Damn James. Can’t keep his mouth shut.

“Some guy died on Skeeter’s watch because he ran out of oxygen.”

She stood up and grabbed my hand. “You shouldn’t be out there by yourself. A million things could happen. You need backup. I hate to admit it, but James is right, Skip.”

I hate to admit that James was right? This was not a good sign.

Wait until you’ve had a hundred dives before you try solo. A hundred? Hell, I’d had about ten open-water dives. Ninety to go.

“So who’s this backup?” I couldn’t wait for James to tell me.

“Amy. She decided to hang out with me for a couple more days.”

“Oh, come on, your married girlfriend?”

“That’s the one, Skip. And she’s way more experienced than you are.”

Clear your regulator. Clear your partially flooded mask. Breathe without your mask. Swap the air supply from your partner. All the rules that went through my head. What had I signed on for?

Why would anyone in their right mind want to escape the earth’s plentiful supply of oxygen and dive deep beneath the ocean for a brief glimpse of what lies below? Knowing that their breathing supply was sorely limited. Knowing that with a couple of short, quick breaths, they could die.

I pulled on my bathing suit and watched Em out of the corner of my eye.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting ready,” she said.

“Em, that’s a thong, for God’s sake.”

Her tan thighs, butt, abs and everything else were well defined and the brief suit showed it all off.

“Skip, stop it. It’s not a thong.”

“No. You look-you look fabulous.” I remembered how she looked last night without any of this brief cover-up, but that was a private moment. This was on display for James and anyone else who cared to look.

“Thank you.”

“It’s just that James and-”

“Oh, for crying out loud. This is what I brought, and this is what I’m wearing.”

“For that reason only?”

She turned and shot an angry glance over her shoulder as she adjusted her breasts in the thin material of her bikini.

“And just what does that mean?”

“We have a visitor. I’ve seen her in her bikini. Is this by any chance a one-upsmanship?”

“Would you rather I wear a sweat suit?” She turned to me, displaying a very scantily clad perfect torso. “Or do you want a frumpy one-piece that looks like something your mother would have worn?”

I studied her.

“Do you?”

The answer was no. No. No. No. However …

I loved to check out her body. And the fact that there might be a jealousy contest between the two ladies actually excited me. But I had to admit I didn’t like the idea of James seeing all that I was intimate with.

“So, the way Amy looks has nothing to do with-”

She punched me on the arm. Not a light punch by any means. She could have done damage to a pro boxer.

Em wore a cover-up and carried a beach bag as we stepped into the truck. Amy, James, Em, and I. Amy had a cover-up as well. I was anxious to see her outfit revealed.

“Amy, do you have your own mask?” I was renting mine.

“I do,” she said. “I haven’t had that many dives, but enough that I know I don’t want someone else’s mask and mouthpiece.”

I nodded. That would be a preferable situation. My own mask and mouthpiece. Perfect. However, I never thought this hobby would be more than a college credit course.

James turned the key and the engine roared. A new battery had solved the problem. We pulled out of the parking lot and drove south to Skeeter’s Dive Shop.

“So, Amy-” Em started the conversation with nothing to say. Do you mention the husband? The kid? The guy she came down with? Or the affair with James? It didn’t seem to matter, she was a part of the team. This Amy-no one seemed to know her last name-was my backup. I’d been told that a backup was sometimes useless unless they were good friends. A backup had their own agenda and often was off on that task, rather than watching your back.

As we pulled into the parking lot of Skeeter’s Dive Shop, I thought about that. Maybe I should have just done a solo dive.

I wished to God that I had decided to do that. Then Amy took off the filmy cover-up.

This twenty-three-year-old girl had the figure of a goddess. I must have been staring at her perfect narrow waist and hips and legs to die for.

“Settle down, big boy,” Em whispered in my ear as she shed her cover-up.