Cheryl Tardif - Submerged

“Where can we reach him?”

“He went to Fort McMurray for a job interview. Wesley has a cell phone though.” She gave him the number.

“We’ll let you know when we reach him.”

“Thank you.” She closed her eyes and took a long breath. “Marcus, are you married?”

There was an awkward pause.

“I was. Once.”

“Sorry, I don’t mean to pry. I don’t want you to hang up again.”

“I can stay on for a few minutes. Keep checking that bar.”

“I will.” She moistened her dry lips. “Were you married for a long time?”

“Long enough, I guess.”

“Kids?”

She heard muffled sounds before he replied, “I had a son. Ryan.”

Had.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be asking you these things.”

“Don’t worry about it. You need to stay calm, and if talking helps you, we’ll talk.”

“But your son…”

“Died. With his mother.”

“How?” she whispered.

There was a long pause before he said, “In a car accident.”

“Oh God…”

“Rebecca? Don’t go there. That’s not going to happen to you and your kids.”

She glanced over her shoulder at Colton. He was reading.

“Do you live alone?” As the words left her mouth, she cupped a hand against her lips and tried not to laugh at her inquisitiveness.

“No. I live with Arizona. And a specter called guilt.”

“Arizona? Pretty name. Is she your girlfriend?”

Laughter filled the receiver.

“You could say that,” Marcus said, chuckling. “Arizona’s my dog. A red setter.”

His answer made her smile. “What was your wife’s name?”

“Jane.”

“Tell me about her. What was she like?”

“She was smart, funny, quirky sometimes.”

“How so?”

“She had a thing for numbers. Numerology. It was a hobby of hers. Threes and sevens, her favorite numbers. Jane planned everything around them.”

“I don’t know much about numerology, but I do know that thirteen is supposed to be a very unlucky number. Yesterday was the thirteenth, and last night when I realized that, I almost cancelled my trip.” She gave a self-derisive laugh. “I guess I should’ve. Look where I am now.”

“At least it wasn’t Friday the thirteenth,” he offered.

She snickered. “Yeah, because how much worse would that have been?”

Marcus was silent.

Talk about something else, Rebecca. “Was your wife a stay-at-home mom, or did she have a career?”

“She was a software designer for BioWare.”

Rebecca frowned. “Didn’t they make Jade Empire?”

“Yeah, among others.”

“My son plays that game. Did your wife create it?”

“No.”

Rebecca checked on Colton, then said, “It’s kind of uncanny, don’t you think?”

“What is?”

“Colton was playing Jade Empire before we left. And now I’m talking to someone whose wife worked for the company. I think that’s weird.”

She was rambling now. Anything to keep him on the line.

Marcus let out a soft chuckle. “I guess it is weird. It’s a small world.”

“That it is.” Pause. “So you’re a 911 operator.”

“That’s me.”

“Superhero.”

“Pardon?”

She smiled. “A 911 superhero.”

She heard him laugh, a pleasant sound.

“You’re picturing me in tights and a cape right now, aren’t you?” he said. “With 911 blazed across my chest?”

“Something like that. Tell me more about your wife. How did you meet?”

“We started dating in high school. Proves that opposites do indeed attract. Jane was an introverted computer geek, a petite elf of a girl, barely five feet tall. I was the rebellious bad boy who towered over her at six feet.”

“She must have felt very protected.”

“I guess so.”

“What did you do after you graduated?”

“We found a small apartment near the University of Alberta and moved in together—to save money for a wedding five years down the road, after I was well underway with my medical career and could support a wife.”

“Sounds like a good plan.”

“I thought so too. But even the best of plans can hit a detour.”

Someone said something to Marcus, but she couldn’t make out the words.

“I have to hang up now,” he said.

Dread seeped into her bones. “Can’t you stay on for a few more minutes?”

“Sorry. I’ll call back in ten minutes this time.”

“Marcus, I hear rushing water. Really close by. Do you think we’re in the water?”

“Is there water on the floor?”

She peered down. “No.”

“If you see water on the floor, call me. I have to go now.”

“It’s going to seem like forever,” she said with a moan.

“I know. But I’ll call. I promise. Before I go, I have one last question. Does your husband or anyone else you know own a truck like the one that hit you?”

“No.”

They disconnected.

It took a minute for Marcus’s last question to sink in. Wesley?

“Aren’t they here yet?” Colton asked.

“Not quite.”

“Why were you laughing?”

“The 911 man said something funny.”

“After you called him a superhero.”

She smiled over her shoulder at her son. “He’s going to help rescue us. That makes him a superhero in my mind.”

“You’re so lame, Mom.”

She laughed. “Maybe. But you still love me.”

Colton grinned. Beside him Ella stirred. “I think she’s waking up, Mom.”

Rebecca strained to see her. “Ella? Ella, honey. Time to wake up.”

Ella gave a soft moan.

“She still feels kinda cold, but she’s not wheezing so much now,” Colton said.

“Thank you, honey. You’re doing a great job taking care of Ella.”

“Ella-Bella,” he said in a sad tone.

She saw him reach out and stroke Ella’s face. Colton was a caring big brother. When he wanted to be. When she needed him to be. For all their sibling rivalry, her children loved each other, and Rebecca couldn’t ask for more than that.

She shut her eyes. Total exhaustion was setting in.

“Mom, you want some water?”

“Sure.”

He passed her a plastic bottle. She took one sip and gave it back.

She closed her eyes again. Fatigue sent her imagination into overdrive.

They were sailing along the coastline of Southern California. The boat swayed and rocked gently. Up… down… up. She could almost feel the warm wind. And the cool mist of seawater against her face.

She drifted on the sea.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Shipley hovered over Marcus’s desk, his mouth curved into a furious scowl.

“I’m helping an accident victim stay calm.”

“You gave her your name and your personal information. Not very professional of you.”

Marcus clenched his fists. He’d never wanted to hit someone so badly. “You want me to be professional? Rebecca Kingston is trapped inside her car with her two children. She’s pinned behind the steering wheel, for Christ’s sake. Her son may have a broken leg and he can’t move. Her daughter is asthmatic and unconscious. And to top that off, no one has a goddamn clue where they are. Yeah, I’ll be professional. I won’t hit you. That’s how professional I’ll be.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Back off, Pete. There’s a time to be professional and a time to be a human being.” He scowled at Shipley. “But you wouldn’t know anything about the latter, would you?” He stood up and Shipley backed away.

Leo stepped forward. “Marcus…”