Unforeseen Dives – 25b – Minefield

<< 25a – Minefield

I called the ten people investigating the whirlpool to my office. Squeezed on the couches, the assortment of telepaths and psychics didn’t have much to tell me. Their research amounted to a compilation of the zones affected by the phenomenon, namely all the zones that would be of interest to us. That was reported with many unnecessary words in a fifty pages long document.
“Have you come up with solutions to circumvent or exploit that problematic?”
“I’m afraid not, ma’am.” The telepath who spoke was a scrawny blond with a nearly permanent Cheshire cat smile. He carefully smothered it these days. “However, one anomaly caught our attention.” I nodded for him to continue. “We know your mother’s future involves traumatizing events. Yet, the level of adrenaline sheen around her whirlpool is almost nil.”
“We’re not sure what it means.” His psychic partner interrupted. “We’re sorry.”
“It’s ok, Ella.” I tried to sound as grateful as I could.
“But we’re growing used to it.” She continued. “We were able to break the pairing this morning so we’re now researching at our full potential.”
Despite everything else, I smiled. That was good news.
“Perfect. I want you to focus on the whirlpool surrounding my mom. Comb that one until I say otherwise. Thanks.”
They rose and left one after the other, dropping a kind word before they disappeared. I wanted to dive after my mom myself but I should oversee things instead. At least, I had people I trusted to scour the Ocean for me.
I picked the report on my desk and browsed the pages. I needed a more visual way to represent this.
“Casey will go buy a map and a huge foam board.” Becky sprung on me.
“Huh?”
“He just beamed me that PR’s asleep and offered to help.”
“Oh! Good! We can get the rest from the supply closet.”
Becky and I commandeered a mailman’s cart to get all our stuff in one go. Sheets of paper of different sizes, colors and rigidity, markers in an array of format and hues, variously tinted pushpins, scotch tape, post-it notes, we had it all. Mapping the Ocean was going to be a bitch but we were ready.
We rolled our supplies in the middle of our office. The biggest wall was the one with the paintings so we took down the Warhol and the Dali.
“I could help you set it up…” Rebecca hesitated.
“Yeah, this is my territory. Besides, it’s a good way for me to master all this.” I completed, pointing at the researchers’ report.
“That’s about what I was going for.”
“But you would have said ‘turf’.” She chuckled.
“Casey’s going to be here soon. I’ll check on our FBI friends.” I approved with a thought. We doubted the FBI would communicate what they found right away. It was the middle of the afternoon so a little visit was appropriate.
Rebecca left and I curled up on the couch with the report and a bunch of markers. I sifted through the pages, highlighting the names of the people targeted by a whirlpool. I realized I needed their picture to map this out intelligently. I rang Becky to have the FBI fax me what they had on the people from my list.
Time, place, person or a combination of these factors identified the whirlpools. I established a pushpin color code to pinpoint places and their associated timestamp, if noted. I crafted a timeline according to the extremes I found in the report and taped it to the wall using a small stepladder Amy found for me.
Eventually, Casey walked in with boxes of Chinese food and maps. Two guys followed suit, carrying a huge, half an inch thick foam board. The guys dropped it along the wall and left. With Casey’s help, I ran a fishing thread around the beams of the suspended ceiling. We pierced small holes in the foam to tie it up and used a bit of scotch tape to stabilize it. Becky’s faxes came in around the same time. I was good to go.
“You should really eat something.” Casey urged, opening a box of Chinese takeout. The smell made my stomach growl. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast and it was five o’clock. However, I wasn’t quite at ease with dropping every thing.
“Come on, hon, you can’t help anyone if you starve to death.” With his chopstick, he waved a chunk of General Tao’s chicken under my nose. I bit it. “That’s my girl.”
“I’ll take a couple of bites every 5 pins.”
“I can work with that.”
I transferred the report onto my maps, stopping regularly to pluck a few tasty treat from one of Casey’s boxes. I had a hard time choosing because he bought all my favorites. At some point, Becky called to check on me and we decided she should spend some time with Sean tonight.
About an hour later, I dropped to the floor next to Casey and the coffee table where reheated Chinese food waited to be finished. I munched on the content of a box slowly, looking at my oeuvre on the wall.
“Nothing makes sense!” I exclaimed. I thought I would sound frustrated but my voice broke. I realized “frustrated” wasn’t quite right. I had moved on to desperate.
“You need to relax, hon. You’ll see straighter in the morning.” Casey’s soothing tone usually helped. Not tonight.
“I don’t have ‘til morning. My mom’s suffering right now!” Tears started streaming down my cheeks again. I wiped them off with an angry motion.
“You can’t beat yourself up and you know it. You need to relax.” He took the takeout box and chopsticks out of my hands, and put them back on the coffee table.
“I can’t.”
“Sure you can! You just need the proper motivation.”
I arched a doubtful eyebrow. He kissed me. Under the pressure of his lips, mine parted to return his passion. I relaxed as our kiss deepened and his hand slid behind my neck. His other arm circled my waist to pull me closer. His presence in my thoughts was all love and cuddling.
For a moment, as the passionate kiss my mother had foretold continued, I forgot she was in trouble.

26a – Crumbs >>