"There he is!"
Cal was soon sitting upright with Eeva's arms wrapped tightly around him. He stunk, was soaked with sweat, and caked with dirt, but Eeva didn't seem to mind as she fussed over him, looking for injuries. She brushed away tiny rocks stuck to his cheek.
Frank stood over them, holding Cal's fallen ballcap and cellphone in his hands. A frown was etched deep on his face and his mustache looked like an upside-down U.
"You alright?" he asked.
There was laughter and only a moment later did Cal realize it was his own.
"Actually?" he said. "I'm okay. They could have killed me, but they didn't. I'm- I'm okay."
"You're in shock."
"It feels good, then."
"Oh yeah—that's the shock!" Frank leaned down on one knee for a closer look.
Cal held out his injured hand while his finger pointed a different direction.
Frank and Eeva both recoiled in horror.
"Is it bad?"
"Definitely in shock," Eeva said.
"Come on, let's get him to a doctor."
Frank and Eeva helped him to his feet and Frank put Cal's ballcap back on his head with a here you go. Cal watched it happen from a distance outside of himself.
The phone in Frank's hand came to life with Cal's electric guitar ringtone and everyone winced at the noise. Maybe it was time he found a new ringtone. Yes, Genesis's Land of Confusion would be appropriate—
Frank silenced the incoming call.
"That was your lawyer. Again. You want to fess up yet?"
Cal stayed silent as he floated down the white gravel path—the River Styx—through the maze of tombs back towards the Castle Hill park and the land of the living.
"Fess up to what?" Eeva asked.
Cal couldn't meet her eye. He was such an embarrassment.
How could he explain?
"Your boyfriend's a criminal," Frank said with a short laugh, "A genuine American outlaw. Ain't you, Sundance?"
He was.
"Or a hero, depending on your perspective," Frank continued. "What was that kid's name again?"
"Lenny Springfield."
The name sprang from his lips without him thinking, and once he said it, the rest of the story came spilling out after.
Frank and Eeva listened without interruption.
By the time he'd finished the Ballad of Lenny Springfield, the trio had reached the top of the elevator leading down to the Nazi-dug tunnels beneath the hill.
"You knocked his father's tooth out?" Eeva said, her eyes wide.
He had.
It was presented as evidence before the court.
"Do you want to know the funny thing?" Frank asked.
"There was something funny?"
"Yeah," Frank smiled, "guy who lost his tooth? He's a dentist."
Eeva let slip a chortle that turned into a snort when she tried to stop it.
It was like a finger being pulled from a dike and the elevator was flooded with laughter all the way down to the Nazi tunnel beneath the hill.
"It's not that funny, though," Cal said, drying the tears from his eyes with his good hand. "The bastard pressed charges."
"He touched you first," Frank said, shaking his head in disbelief.
"But I escalated," Cal said.
Frank's eyes shone with something like pride. "You never could stand a bully."
"And it always lands me in trouble."
"Did you go to jail?" Eeva asked.
Cal shook his head no. "I avoided real jail time by agreeing to an anger management class and an ass-load of community service."
They exited the tunnel, and the Mediterranean greeted them from across the street.
"So, why's Art still bothering you?" asked Frank.
Cal hesitated.
"I skipped out on the "community service" part. I started with good intentions, but—France was calling, you know?"
"You mean Frank. So, it's my fault now?"
"No! The house sold right before the holidays so by that point I was living in a motel, trying to work off my hours."
"I still don't think you should have sold it."
"I needed the money, Frank! Moll's cancer drained our savings, and do you really think teachers make enough to retire to southern France? Get real!"
Frank stayed silent.
"It doesn't matter now, anyway," Cal said and then laughed. "I was impatient. I was depressed. I flew the coop before I finished my service hours—and now Judge Hoffer is holding me in contempt."
"Meaning?" Eeva asked.
"If I ever show up in Florida again, he's going to throw my ass in jail."
Frank's face was flustered. "Goddamn it, Cal! We could have delayed the move until you finished. That would have put you here maybe in March? The weather is great here in March! We could have made that work."
"Do you have any idea what it was like? Living like a ghost in your own hometown? Sleeping in a shitty motel bed? Eating take-out every night. Waking alone in a strange room with the only thing on the agenda being six hours of shoveling dog shit? I couldn't take it anymore."
"You should have told me!" said Frank, his mustache set in a frown. "We would have figured something out."
Cal was having none of it. "Oh, we've done a great job of that so far, haven't we? Christ, look at my hand! And . . . they took my watch!"
Molly's watch.
It was a gift for their thirtieth wedding anniversary: a Bell & Ross diver watch with the bronze case and "abyss green" face. He wore it on every scuba trip since, and its luminescent glow was a constant companion. She'd even had a private message engraved on the back, years before she'd passed, but almost like she'd known.
He had to breathe. He had to calm down. It felt like losing her all over again.
"We'll get it back!" Frank said. His eyes pleaded with Cal to believe him.
Cal had no words. His chest was tight and he fought the urge to run across the traffic and plunge himself into the sea—anything to escape the moment. Instead, he collapsed on a nearby bench.
"Let's focus on getting me to a doctor." He held out his hand with the likely-broken finger bent back the wrong way. "This hurts worse than it looks."
"It looks pretty fucking bad," said Frank.
"And it hurts fucking worse!"
Cal raised his left hand straight in front of him and his index finger pointed nearly back at him. The joint was red and swollen.
Eeva slipped into the bench next to him.
"Let me help," she said. "I'm not licensed, but I've had some training. Your finger looks dislocated. That can hurt worse than a clean break."
Cal nodded and held his hand out towards her, his finger pointing back at him.
"Frank? Can you hold his shoulders?"
She took his hand gently in hers.
Cal sucked in a breath and said, "Are you going to—"
Then she did.
And after the initial shock, there was a tremendous wave of relief. His hand was still swollen, but at least his finger was pointing in the right direction, and the pain was now only a dull throb. He looked at Eeva with gratitude, admiration, and guilt for letting his pain and shame get the best of him.
Cal looked over his shoulder at Frank with a smile made goofy from the shock. "She's more than she seems, ain't she?"
Frank's face wore a benign smile, but his eyes were like brick walls.
"She certainly is."