A CRY FROM THE DEEP Read online

  “I read about that. He lost his son and some crew.”

  “People say, the treasure was cursed.”

  “Do you believe that?”

  “Nah. What I believe? All diving is dangerous. If you’re not careful, you die.”

  Catherine looked over at Alfredo. He still looked wary of her. She said to Raul, “You tell your brother, he has nothing to worry about.”

  “Alfredo, no ghosts,” shouted Raul.

  Catherine smiled at Alfredo. She could see his face relax. She couldn’t blame him. She’d had her own anxieties when she’d encountered the spirits for the first time.

  With the boat slowing down, Catherine said, “I guess we’d better get ready.”

  Raul nodded and left. She had a funny feeling about him. He was hard to read and there was an edge to him she couldn’t define. It didn’t help that she often found him huddling with Hennesey. If there was something covert going on, she wouldn’t be shocked to find Raul in on it.

  She stood up and prepared her weight belt. The twenty pound lead weights she’d selected had worked well with her frame. She checked her regulator and put on her tank, getting some help from Alfredo.

  As she picked up her camera, Daniel walked by. She overheard him say to Tom, who was a few steps behind, “I’ll show you more later.” He then turned to her and said, “I’ll be ready in a few minutes.”

  Going from an intimate encounter back to a professional relationship was not what she’d had in mind. But if that’s how it was going to be, she’d have to accept it. Better that than being the other woman. There was only heartache there. She bent down to put on her flippers. Thank God she hadn’t let it go any further.

  ~~~

  Daniel wished Tom was a quicker study. It had taken more than a half hour to review the simplest procedures.

  He’d been so preoccupied in ensuring this next phase would go well, that he hadn’t had a chance to talk to Catherine. He hadn’t realized how much time had passed until Olaf had told them they were nearing the dive site. When he found Catherine with the others at the stern, she was donning her gear. He wondered if she was now regretting their encounter on the cliffs. He hadn’t handled it well, he knew that. He should’ve said something afterwards. Especially when they’d been interrupted by that family. But he’d been so frustrated. She had aroused him like no other woman had before. She was both sweet and seductive at the same time, a heady combination. He even loved the way she lit up when she talked about her new carpet. There was something about her eyes—the shimmering greens and golds—inviting him in, and the way she smelled was intoxicating. Her scent was like roses and rainwater, as if she’d just stepped out of a shower. If that could be bottled, it would make a hell of an aphrodisiac.

  And yet on their drive back, he’d been struck by how quickly their relationship had changed. It was as if something had tied his tongue. He couldn’t find the words to tell her he’d been unfair. How could he have imposed himself on her like that? Sure, she’d been willing; there was no question about that. But the awful thing was that he was about to be married. The thought made his stomach lurch. There was so much he had wanted to say, but he couldn’t trust what his body was telling him. Maybe it was the place that had affected him so deeply. This land with all its myths and legends. It had penetrated his psyche in ways he couldn’t explain.

  And so, they’d said good night. They hugged, but it was quick, the kind of hug friends give when they’re parting. It was as if he’d crossed a bridge moments before it got torn down, and there was no way back.

  She was on the other side of the deck from him now. He watched her put her camera down to adjust her flippers. He wondered what she’d say if she knew that after they’d parted, he’d thought of nothing else except wanting her more than any other woman he had ever known. He had always been in control. His career and love life had followed a predictable trajectory. That is, until he met Catherine and came to Ireland. Here, it seemed he was being guided by forces he didn’t know or understand.

  And yet he knew so little about her. She was the exact opposite of Sean. Maybe his lust for Catherine had to do with being in such close quarters. It happened to film stars all the time. They were always falling in love on set, only to have their union explode down the road a few years later—if they lasted that long. He’d have to play it by ear.

  Daniel tightened his buoyancy compression vest and picked up his video camera. He turned to go, but waited when she stopped to check her camera housing and attach a strobe light. He wished she’d look over.

  Grabbing his slate, he said to Tom, “After I come up, you can go down with Raul, Gabe, and Jerry.”

  “You’ll be on the radio?”

  “Of course,” said Daniel, with a sigh. Having another archaeologist on board should’ve lightened his load, but having someone as inexperienced as Tom only added to it. Not only would Daniel have to monitor his work, but he’d also have to watch Tom’s risk-taking. The excitement of the sea world could easily distract even the most seasoned diver. The ocean’s hypnotic environment was responsible for luring too many men and women to an early grave.

  As for the others, they were experienced and less likely to take chances. Alfredo, Mark, and Patrick were also honest types, but Raul was too much like Hennesey, here to get whatever he could by any means. Jerry and Olaf were the unknowns. He couldn’t get a good read on them. Maybe they could also be tempted to take chances for a slice of the greedy pie.

  Daniel finally caught Catherine’s eye. She didn’t look happy. “Are you all right?”

  She turned away, “Yes. You ready to go?”

  He nodded. Catherine had her jaw set, and whatever was bothering her, she wasn’t saying. And with the others already in the water, there was no time to get into anything.

  Daniel looked at the sky. The clouds had formed again and what light they’d had in the early morning had dimmed. He hoped visibility wouldn’t be affected. He went first, backwards over the gunwale into the ocean. Catherine followed less than a minute later.

  He needn’t have worried about the sea’s clarity. He could see all the way to the bottom. Below were scattered timbers. Shoals of pollack and herring swam amongst the grand beams, while nearby, a snail crawled across a jewel anemone. Daniel headed toward what looked like thick masses of rust, the result of concretion over time on the iron and steel remains of the once great ship. As he passed a cave and a gully, he looked back to see if Catherine was right behind him. She was there but gone was the easy ambience of their earlier dives. It was as if they’d donned new habits, cloaks with hoods that kept them both in the dark.

  ~~~

  Catherine’s first dive of the day proved to be a bonanza of photo opportunities as Patrick and Hennesey turned up more blackened silver pieces of eight and an iron cannon, also blackened with the years. The men were ecstatic, as this meant they now had more than enough to identify the Spanish vessel. The cannon, though covered with a thick layer of sediment, was surprisingly complete with iron rings, hooks, bolts, and cladding. While Daniel documented the location and studied the degree of deposit, Catherine snapped photos from every perspective.

  In the past, she would’ve been elated with the discoveries, but now, her heart wasn’t in her work. It was still wrapped up in her thoughts about Daniel. Their unexpected intimacy had created a distance. She no longer knew what to say.

  After the dive, Daniel remained on deck with Tom to record the cannon’s dimensions and treat it properly; she went below to have a shower. At lunch, when the crew normally joked around, she kept to herself, finding little humor in anything. She left without excusing herself and went to rest in one of the cabins until the next dive. There were no raised eyebrows, which she was thankful for. At any given time, there was usually one or more divers trying to catch a few winks before it was time to go down again.

  She closed her eyes on the cot in the cabin but couldn’t sleep. She took turns fretting about what had happened and scolding hersel
f for acting juvenile. She must’ve lain there for hours. Maybe she even dozed a bit, though she didn’t feel rested when it was time to get up.

  She went to the sink outside the cabin where she splashed cold water on her face. She then dragged herself back to the galley, where Joy was washing lettuce.

  Joy said, “You slept a long time. You not comin’ down with anythin’, are you?”

  “No. Just catching up from last night’s wonky sleep.”

  Alfredo came out of the head and looked at Catherine sideways.

  Joy said, “You’ve spooked Alfredo. He says you saw a ghost in the water.”

  “Alfredo, I told you there wasn’t one.”

  “Catherine, you don’t have to lie for me.” Alfredo sat down at the table. “I’ve seen ghosts, too.”

  Had he seen the same one she had? “Here?”

  “No. Not here.”

  She frowned, wishing someone else had seen her lady in the white dress, if only to confirm that she existed and wasn’t a figment of her imagination.

  Alfredo went on. “I was with Hennesey. In Florida, deep underwater, and I feel something pull my vest. Shit, it scare the hell out of me. I look, but there’s nobody. Just fish. I start to shake. I close my eyes, I cross myself three times.” Alfredo crossed himself as if he was back there again. “I say three Hail Marys. I almost fill my pants, excuse me. When Hennesey came behind me, I thought it was a ghost.” He paused, taking a deep breath, before continuing. “My hand was shaking…” He shook his hand to illustrate. “He told me to go up. But when I start to go, I hear somebody groaning, maybe two, maybe three seconds. It was fucking eerie, man.” He let out a long sigh. “After that, I don’t sleep for a long time.”

  “Did Hennesey hear it, too?”

  “No. He said he didn’t hear it. I don’t know how he couldn’t fuckin’ hear it. It was there, I tell you. I think we woke up the dead, and they didn’t like it.”

  “What did Hennesey say about that?”

  Alfredo made a face. “He said I drink too much fucking rum.” He shook his head and shivered. “Not that day. There was a ghost, I tell you. I swear by the Holy Mother.”

  Joy finished tearing the lettuce into a large bowl. “Alfredo thought the ship was haunted. He had to be coaxed to go down again. If Alfredo wasn’t such a good diver, Hennesey would’ve let ‘im go.”

  “Aw, c’mon,” said Alfredo, giving Joy a little hug. “He’d miss me. Who else puts up with his shit?”

  “Me,” said Joy, slicing some cucumber.

  “You do.” Alfredo’s face turned grave. “The dead, they should be left to lie in peace.”

  “Is it possible,” asked Catherine, “that some spirit wanted to tell you something?”

  Alfredo crossed himself again. “I no hang around to find out.”

  Joy laughed. “Too bad. Maybe it would’ve told you where the treasure was.”

  Catherine patted him on the shoulder. “Well, don’t worry, Alfredo. No ghosts.”

  He shrugged.

  “Now tell me, did you find anything while I was sleeping?”

  His face lit up. “I found a bronze anchor.”

  “A beauty,” said Joy. “Arrow-shaped.”

  Catherine said, “Looks like this is it, huh? The find of the century.”

  Joy pushed the salad bowl aside and leaned against the counter. “I think Hennesey’s too nervous to call it that yet.”

  “You’re right,” said Catherine. “He won’t be happy until he finds some gold bullion.” She turned to Alfredo, “How about we get some photos of you with that anchor?”

  The other divers on deck were still talking about the new discovery when Catherine and Alfredo emerged from below. She expected them to be rejoicing. Instead, Hennesey said, “Too bad there aren’t any engravings on it. Looks like anything that was there was erased by corrosion.”

  Catherine took some shots of the anchor lying in a tub of water. It wasn’t easy being so close to Daniel, who had his tailor’s tape out and was measuring the shaft’s diameter. It was like she’d become a spectator after being a fellow participant. After watching Tom draw the artifact on a large piece of paper, she asked them to lift the anchor so that she could take a few photos of Alfredo standing beside it.

  And that was that until it came time to dive again. She said little to Daniel as she suited up and re-filled her tank. From what she could see, he didn’t seem to mind her silence. The way things were going, she couldn’t wait for the day to end. Biting her lip, she put a telescopic lens on her camera. It was heavier than she was comfortable with, but she hoped to get some close-ups of the men at work.

  This time, when she and Daniel descended into the blue, Catherine forced herself to concentrate on her photography. Not only was Daniel on her mind, but also the knowledge that the Alice O’Meary was just out of sight. She wished she could explore the British barque and unearth its tales, but that wasn’t her job.

  Swallowing her disappointment, she sought out Hennesey and Raul. She found them dredging the sand beside a section of the Spanish vessel’s hull. They were totally absorbed, so she stayed back and pointed the telescopic lens in their direction. What they were doing was painstaking work. The sea bottom was vast and articles from the ship could be anywhere. It had sunk over four hundred years before and since then, countless storms, shifting tides and climate changes had weathered its remains. Besides being scattered, pieces of the ship were buried so deep, it was no wonder it had escaped detection for centuries. Perhaps the sea floor had shifted of late to expose some of its parts, which could account for their discovery.

  She took photos of the divers sifting through the rubble. They were being careful, mindful of any human relics that could be exposed. There could be bones and personal belongings, evidence of lives lost in the deep. Did those sailors and passengers meet their end here, or were they still roaming the earth as her ghost seemed to be doing? Before taking this assignment, Catherine would never have pondered that question. But now that she’d experienced phantoms on land as well as in the water, she threw those questions into the universe as if she expected some answers.

  Caught up in her ghostly thoughts—as if in a trance—Catherine had momentarily lost sight of Daniel. Alarmed, she spun in every direction. When she spotted him by Raul, she slowed her breathing and told herself to be more careful.

  Daniel and Raul were both trying to free what looked like a large pewter bowl. It didn’t take long to extract it from the mud that had kept it in place for possibly centuries. Daniel stopped to jot its position on the grid and record it on his slate. Then Raul put it in a basket, yanked on the rope, and up it went.

  As Catherine watched them, something bright caught her eye. She glanced over to see Hennesey holding something shiny. She focused her lens on the object and quickly snapped a couple of photos before he put it into the pocket of his vest. It looked like a chain. Maybe a keepsake of some kind, a religious artifact, or some ornament. Hennesey then went over to Raul. She wished she could hear what they were saying, but one thing she could tell, they were both excited.

  Before Catherine had a moment to consider what she’d seen, a huge conger eel swam by, startling her. It was grey and about ten feet long. Her heart beat wildly at the sight. Although she’d been warned that they swam in this area, she hadn’t expected to see one. That species usually made their home in the Mediterranean, but with the world’s waters warming up, more of them had moved north. She reminded herself that congers with their strong jaws and razor sharp teeth preyed on fish, crabs, and other small aquatic mammals, and were uninterested in humans. That could change though, if an eel suspected the diver was going after its young or the same food supply. Naturally, her body tensed as she watched the marauder snake its way through the ship’s wreckage.

  Daniel’s voice came through her headphones. “He won’t do anything if you don’t aggravate him.”

  Noticing Daniel had his knife ready and was keeping an eye on the eel, she put her hand on
top of her blade as well. She’d used a knife before to cut fishermen’s nets that could entangle her but she’d never used it against a predator. Stealing a look at Hennesey and Raul, she noticed they were also poised to strike. Though anxious, she snapped a few shaky photos, capturing the conger slithering by a column of green kelp. Unhappy with the results, she tried again, this time holding her breath to keep her camera steady.

  And then, as quickly as it had appeared, the eel skittered away, vanishing into the inky depths beyond. She exhaled and noticed the others had already gone back to work. Feeling tired, she checked her dive computer. She’d been down forty-five minutes, long enough to call it quits. She said to Daniel, “I’m ready to go up. How about you?”

  He looked at his own computer. “Fine by me. A little more time won’t make a big difference.” His voice was comforting. He acted as he had in the beginning of their relationship. He acted now like nothing had happened between them. But it had. If only she could turn the clock back to before that fateful trip to the museum. If only.

  ~~~

  Back on deck, they were all standing in various states of undress, talking about the size of the eel. Hennesey said, “Those eels don’t do much damage, but they’ll be happy to take off your finger or toe if you get too close.” He turned to Catherine. “Did you get a picture?”

  Catherine turned on her camera and played back the most recent photos. She managed to get one clear shot of the eel before it vanished. “Yes.”

  “Good.” Hennesey looked around; the others had already gone below. Only Daniel and Tom were still on deck, treating what the divers had brought up—a bowl, a glass bottle, more gold doubloons, and of course the bronze anchor.

  When Catherine walked to the galley stairs, Hennesey followed. Uncomfortable with him being so close, she stopped and turned near the top of the stairs.

  His dark eyes narrowed and he said in a low tone, “Did you get any other good photos?”

  There was something menacing about the way he asked. It was then that Catherine remembered what she’d seen. The eel incident had taken over when they’d surfaced and she’d temporarily forgotten about the shots she’d taken of Hennesey pocketing what looked like a gold chain. She blanched.