Many Waters

  Chapter Twenty-Three - Lisa

  “You’re going where?” Jenny asked, as soon as the words left my mouth.

  “Prudhoe Bay,” I said, knowing perfectly well that she’d heard me the first time.

  “And your reason for this is. . . ?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “My own business. I need to talk to Cody,” I said.

  “Um. . . sis, they do make envelopes and telephones, just in case you hadn’t heard,” she told me.

  “No, I need to see him in person,” I said, shaking my head.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “I told you, that’s between me and him. You’ll know soon enough, I’m sure, but not till I get back,” I said.

  “Has it got something to do with your little vacation to New Mexico?” she asked.

  While I was gone, Jenny had somehow come up with the notion that I’d cooked up the whole trip to Las Cruces as a scheme for arranging a romantic getaway with Marcus without anybody finding out about it. It seemed like the stupidest plan anybody would ever have thought of, let alone the fact that New Mexico is hardly the first place that comes to mind when I think about romantic getaways. So I don’t know where she got that idea, unless it was the simple fact that it was easier for her to think that I was a tramp than to accept the scary story I’d told her at first. Sometimes it’s easier not to believe, when you don’t want the truth to be true.

  And as much as it galled me, I had to let her keep thinking so. It made things much easier (in a way) if she thought the whole thing was all bosh and melodrama. The only bad part about the situation was that Jenny-the-Cynic had returned with a vengeance.

  “Nope, it’s got nothing to do with New Mexico at all,” I lied.

  “Hmm. . . sounds like a kiss-and-make-up kind of trip to me. You know, sis, playing both ends against the middle like that never works for long. One of them always finds out sooner or later, I promise,” she said, like she was sharing some great piece of wisdom.

  “Oh, for pity’s sake! That’s not what I’m doing at all,” I said in exasperation. The fact that she was so close to guessing the gist of my little story only infuriated me all the more.

  “Sure, sure. Just saying, that’s all. The whole thing still sounds pretty fishy to me,” she said.

  “Maybe so, but will you take me to the airport or not? If you won’t then just say so, and I’ll find somebody else,” I said, tired of arguing with her.

  “Yeah, sure, I’ll take you. What time do you have to be there?” she asked.

  “I have to leave from Dallas at six o’clock tomorrow night,” I told her.

  “And you’ll be back when?” she asked.

  “One-thirty on Tuesday afternoon,” I told her.

  “Well, I don’t care what you do. I might go to the beach for the weekend with Janice and Sheila,” she said.

  “At Galveston?” I asked.

  “Yeah, probably. It’ll be too cold before much longer. Might as well have one last hoot before winter gets here,” she said.

  “What about Mama?” I asked.

  “I’ll see if she can stay with Aunt Michelle for the weekend,” she said, and I nodded. Michelle lived in Lufkin, which was right on the way if she was headed down to the coast. I had my doubts that she’d agree to keep Mama if she thought it was only to let Jenny kick up her heels at the beach for a couple of days, but I couldn’t worry about that. Putting a crimp in my sister’s social life was the least of my concerns at the moment.

  By the next afternoon I’d already packed and repacked my travel case at least five times, and I was so nervous I could barely remember to breathe. I hadn’t talked to Cody very much since the encounter with Layla for fear I’d break down and blow everything, and I knew he probably wondered about that. I could only hope he hadn’t started to guess that something was up.

  When he told me to watch out for an evil woman named Layla I almost wanted to laugh hysterically. But I didn’t dare tell him that his warning came too late.

  I didn’t particularly care to talk to Jenny much on the way to the airport, and I didn’t particularly care for the plane ride, either. I had two layovers, in Phoenix and in Anchorage, and since I didn’t sleep very well on planes that meant I was awake pretty much all night long.

  I got to Prudhoe Bay in the gray half-light not long before the sun came up, about 9:15 in the morning. My first sight of the place wasn’t very encouraging; it looked like a jumble of beat-up trailers and industrial buildings, some ice and snow scattered here and there, and the rest of it pretty much bare gravel.

  It was also frigid. The pilot told us the high for the day was supposed to be ten degrees, right about normal for late October. I shivered just hearing the number; I’d never been so cold in my entire life.

  I knew Cody would be at work till six o’clock that evening, so I sat in the airport and tried to keep warm by imagining tropical beaches and mountain vistas and pretty much anything other than the barren, empty landscape I found myself in and the horrible encounter that lay ahead. I read for a while and caught a few snatches of sleep when I could, wondering how anybody could stand to actually live in such a place.

  I took the camera out of my purse and attached it to the collar of my blouse. It was made to look like a button or some innocuous clip-on decoration, so that no one would be likely to pay any attention to it. All I had to do was touch it to activate the recording.

  I felt like a ghoul, feeding off the misery and suffering of others. I had to keep reminding myself I was doing this to save his life. To save all our lives, most likely, and however filthy and loathsome it made me feel, I didn’t dare cave in.

  It got dark again about five-thirty, and by the time it was safe to call Cody, there was nothing outside but the almost-full moon. At six fifteen I called him, and he answered on the third ring.

  “Hey, Lisa, what’s up?” he asked, sounding tired. As well he might, after a twelve hour shift.

  “Oh, nothing much. Got a surprise for you, though,” I said, with fake enthusiasm.

  “Yeah? What’s that?” he asked.

  “Are you anywhere close to the airport?” I asked. Cody isn’t stupid; I knew he’d put two and two together the second he heard that word.

  “Um. . . Lisa, at the risk of sounding dumb, you wouldn’t happen to be at the airport, would you?” he asked.

  “You better believe it,” I told him, happily. For a second he seemed stunned.

  “Hold on; I’ll be there in five minutes,” he said.

  He was as good as his word, and five minutes later he came walking into the airport, still dressed in his dirty work clothes and with his face red from the cold.

  As soon as he saw me he stopped in his tracks, like he thought he might be imagining things. He looked thinner than I remembered, and tired and worn, but he was still my dear, handsome Cody, and for a second I could pretend nothing was wrong. I ran to him and threw my arms around his midsection, and he swept me up in a bear hug and kissed me long and tenderly. Two and a half months might not seem like such a very long time to most people, but to me it felt like an eternity had passed since the last time he’d kissed me.

  “You’re really a sight for sore eyes, babe; I can’t believe you’re really here,” he said, shaking his head.

  “I couldn’t take it any longer; I just had to see you,” I explained. Lie number one, I thought sadly.

  “How long are you here for?” he asked.

  “Only a day or two,” I said.

  “Um, you do know there’s nowhere to stay up here except in the work camps, don’t you?” he asked.

  “I found a website that said there are supposed to be two or three hotels,” I said, not mentioning the fact that I knew they were closed for the winter and didn’t expect to need one anyway. After the initial joy of seeing him again, my fear of the upcoming encounter was beginning to creep back again in full force. No, fear is too mild a word. Holy terror is more like i
t. I was going to have to give the performance of a lifetime and break his heart in the process. Even though none of it was real, it was already killing me inside.

  “Well, yeah, technically. But only in the summertime. It’s way past tourist season now. I guess you can stay with me in my room for a couple days, if you don’t mind hiding out. It’ll get me in trouble if anybody finds out you’re here,” he explained.

  “Sure,” I agreed.

  “Okay, then. Let’s see if we can sneak back in there,” he said.

  When we got to the Arctic Caribou Inn, I found that it was a collection of trailers which had been modified to house the oilfield workers, and anybody else was more or less an afterthought. But I decided if Cody had been living there for months already, then I could surely make do for a few hours. He seemed uneasy and kept glancing around to make sure nobody had seen us.

  He took me to one of the doors and unlocked it, letting us into a fairly small but decent bedroom. There was a bed, a nightstand table with a lamp and a telephone, a closet, a desk, and a wooden shelf. The only other feature was a door which presumably led to the bathroom.

  It was chilly for my taste, but Cody didn’t seem to notice. Maybe he’d been used to the cold for so long he didn’t even pay attention to it anymore. He pulled off his jacket and coveralls and pretty much everything else he was wearing, till he was stripped down to his shorts and t-shirt. He didn’t even shiver.

  “Let me take a shower real quick so I can get the sweat and the grime off me, and then we’ll talk, okay?” he said, and I nodded. He had all kinds of grease and dirt and ground-in grime all over him, especially on his hands. I couldn’t blame him for wanting to clean up a little bit before bedtime. He grabbed some fresh clothes from the closet and I soon heard him scrubbing in the shower.

  As soon as he disappeared into the bathroom, I sat down on the bed to wait. I was trying hard to have faith in him and to believe what Miss Josie had told me about how things always worked out for the best, but my heart was beating fast and I felt sick and scared. I took deep breaths to calm myself.

  I couldn’t resist snooping a little bit, while he was gone. He had a picture of me that I’d sent him, parked right there on his night table, and when I slipped the drawer open I found a thick stack of envelopes that must have contained every letter I’d ever sent him.

  I didn’t have time to look anywhere else, because it wasn’t long till he came padding back out in his skivvies, still drying his hair with a towel. It had grown out a lot longer than I remembered, and yeah, he was definitely thinner.

  He noticed me looking at his body, and did a slow twirl with his arms raised to show off, obviously enjoying my appreciation of the view. I thought he might even have built up a little more muscle since he’d been there, even if he’d lost some weight in the process.

  “Do I look like myself?” he asked, smiling a little.

  “Yeah, just a little thinner, that’s all,” I said.

  “I can believe that. They work us to death up here,” he nodded, sitting down beside me on the bed.

  “I’m sorry, baby,” I told him, wishing there was something I could do to make things easier on him. A solid year of twelve hour days with never a break or a single day off had to wear a man out after a while.

  “It’s all right. I’ll survive. I’ve got some good news, though; I’ll be home at Christmas for two weeks. My alternate wanted the extra days and I wanted the time off, so he’s filling in for me. Then I’ll be done up here for good on August fifteenth. I’m counting down the days; I promise you that,” he said.

  I could tell he was more tired than he liked to admit, so I slid over to make room for him to lie down on the mattress instead of having to sit up. He did, and then scrunched up close to the wall to make room for me, too.

  “Come lay next to me, Lisa,” he said, and I was happy to comply. I quickly snuggled up close to him with my head on his chest so I could listen to his heartbeat, and he put his arms around me.

  “I’m glad you’re here, darlin’, but surely there had to be some reason besides just missing me, why you came all this way,” he said. He was right, of course, but I was reluctant to get into all that yet. I wanted to savor the closeness of him, the warmth of his skin and the feel of his rough hands, if only for a little while. God only knew when I’d be able to do it again after all this.

  “Yeah, but right now I just want to be close to you for a while. I’m starved to death for Cody time,” I said.

  “Hmm. . . makes me feel like a big bottle of apple juice you’ve been saving for a special occasion,” he said.

  “Hey, that’s a good comparison. Sweet, healthy, and completely natural. There you go. I could write some poetry about my apple-juice boy when I get home. No wonder I’m starved for you,” I said, and he laughed.

  “You’re such a nut, babe. Well, enjoy me all you want to, then,” he teased, obviously amused. So for a while I was quiet, putting off breaking the news to him for as long as possible.

  But I could tell he was fighting sleep, and as much as I hated to break the peaceful mood, I knew it was time to tell him. I brushed the camera to activate it, and then it was show time.