The Dig (12 page)

“Matt,” Peter said before Rheese could steer him into the RV, “did you get anything from it?”

Matt nodded, eyes wide. “
Oh,
yeah.”

Rheese disappeared inside and Peter stopped, halfway in. He mouthed to Matt, “Does he know?” pointing through the door.

Matt grimaced and shrugged a “kind of…”

Peter nodded and gave him a wink. The door closed.

“Mister Sharma,” Rheese began, “you’ll have to accept my apologies, but as you know, though I am quite intent on proceeding with my work in Africa, I waited a good deal of time for a potassium-argon specialist’s assistance in validating the artifact’s age. To discover that I have waited this long for an uneducated American to do psychic surgery on it—well, perhaps you can imagine my disappointment.”

Peter nodded patiently as his eyes scanned the room in search of the artifact.

“I do understand, Dr. Rheese, absolutely. But I can personally attest to Matthew’s ability, difficult as it is to accept. I worked with him extensively and have absolutely no question as to his legitimacy.”

“Well, I admire your open-mindedness, Mr. Sharma, but as I mentioned, I am quite driven toward the success of my expedition. Even if I were to allow the lad more time with the artifact, it would not bring us any closer to providing evidence acceptable to the scientific community. I believe the vast majority of my colleagues in the field would agree.”

“A valid point, Doctor,” Peter acknowledged. “But the thing to understand is that Matthew’s ability has the potential to lead us—to lead
you—
to more artifacts. Personally, I am very interested in what he has discovered thus far.”

“It was a lot of twaddle, really. He just babbled on about giving some dead person a steam bath. Seriously, Sharma, you give weight to this claptrap?”

Peter nodded and raised a finger. He had an idea.

The motor home door opened, and Tuni watched the two men step down. Matt had walked off to throw rocks at the crows and kites tugging at bits of elephant meat. The workers were all chatting in the food tent, discussing the forthcoming dismemberment and removal of the monstrous carcass. The work would involve both chain saws and a backhoe’s loading bucket. It would not be fun, but they all agreed that in another day the flies and the stench would make the camp unlivable. Tuni could hear Enzi telling them a joke in Swahili. She tried to listen in over their laughter.

“How do you shoot a blue elephant?” he asked. Some of the men laughed at the question alone. “With a blue elephant gun. Now, how do you shoot a
red
elephant?”

Tuni watched Pete and Rheese walk toward Matt as the laborers laughed and shouted “That’s stupid!” in Swahili.

Enzi continued. “Hold his trunk shut until he turns blue, and then shoot him with the blue elephant gun. Now, how do you shoot a
yellow
elephant?”

“A yellow elephant gun?” One of them guessed.

Enzi replied with the punchline, “Don’t be so foolish! When have you ever seen a yellow elephant?”

The men’s laughter seemed to irritate Rheese. He was shooting hard looks their way as he and Sharma approached Matt.

“Matt,” said Peter, “I was wondering if you would mind a quick demonstration of your ability. Dr. Rheese has legitimate concerns that I would like us to dispel, if you’re willing.”

Matt bristled. Was this a person that he
wanted
to convince? It seemed that Peter had decided so on his behalf. He chided himself for not shaking his head and making clear to Peter that he didn’t want Rheese brought it. “I guess… whatever it takes. What do you want me to do?”

“I’d like you to do a read on his hat and tell him something you couldn’t possibly know.”

Dr. Rheese choked. “
Me?
Ah-m…” Though he still didn’t believe in it, what if the boy’s alleged ability should prove real? He couldn’t afford to have anyone inside his head, not even for a second.
It’s not real,
he repeated in his head as he searched for an adequate alternative.

“Well, yes,” Peter replied. “I mean, it wouldn’t do much to convince you if he did it with me or someone else, right? Seems that would be like someone else telling you that you just missed seeing a flyby of UFOs, no? Would you not have to see it with your own eyes?”

Matt studied Rheese. What was he trying to hide?

“Tell you what, Peter,” Rheese said. “Why not just have the lad tell us the color of my knickers?”

“Nice idea, Doctor,” replied Matt. “But this isn’t a magic show, and it doesn’t work that way. Tell me—without any details, of course—what’s the most interesting thing to have occurred here in the past week?”

“Well, it would be difficult to overlook the incident with the beastie decaying in the pit over there.”

“All right, good,” Matt began. “So don’t tell me anything about it, but what were you holding or wearing when it all started to hit the fan?”

Rheese began to stew again. “Well, in actual fact… I don’t precisely recall, but… ah, of course—Enzi had the Mossberg from the equipment trailer.”
Good thinking, old boy.

“What’s that?” Pete asked.

“Enzi!” Rheese shouted to the food tent. “Could you fetch the shotgun?”

Now it was Matt’s turn to feel uneasy. He had a major aversion to reading weapons, but if it would get him back in the motor home and holding the fragment, he was willing to forego comfort at this point. Enzi jogged past them to the trailer, lowered the tailgate, and ducked inside. He emerged a moment later with the shotgun, and after opening the breech to ensure that it wasn’t loaded, he put it in Matt’s gloved hands.

Now this guy, too?
Things were spiraling out of Matt’s control. He needed to pull Peter and Tuni aside and make clear his disapproval. And why wasn’t Tuni stepping in?
She must be deferring to Peter, who evidently thinks my ability is a matter of public record.

“Do you need a chair or anything, Matthew?” Peter asked.

“What I need is to be in a private area, and for people to remember promises they agreed to years ago.”

Peter nodded absently, looking toward the RV, then appeared to get it. He glanced at Rheese and Enzi, both with bemused expressions. He looked at Matt apologetically and pulled him aside, out of earshot.

“I am so sorry, man! I wasn’t thinking at all. I just thought Rheese was already in and then he suggested his foreman’s and the shotgun and I just went with it. The damage is done, I know, but I promise, no more. You tell me where we go from here.”

Matt sighed and looked past Peter’s shoulder where Rheese had his fists on his hips, staring intensely at Matt and Peter.

“We just have to stop it with these two, Pete. I brought Tuni in on the plane thinking I wouldn’t have anyone on my side here. If I had known you were going to be here, it would have just been you and me in that RV. None the wiser for what’s going on.”

“It was a last minute decision, man. Again, I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”

Matt brushed it off and they walked back to the group.

Enzi had put the men on the gruesome task of cutting up and hauling away the rotting elephant carcass, piece by revolting piece, to a hole that Kanu had dug with the backhoe. Enzi remained in the RV with Rheese and the visitors, curious why they wanted to look at the shotgun he had used. Was he going to be in trouble?

Sitting at the table, Matt removed one glove, then grasped the shotgun with his other, still gloved hand. He had nothing really to cover the table with, so he had to improvise. Though, with everyone staring at him he felt on the verge of a panic attack, there was nothing for it but to suck in a deep breath, set the timer on his arm to five minutes, and lower his bare hand onto the black metal.

The whoosh filled his ears, and he suddenly felt very wet. It was pouring rain. The ground just shook, and there’s a crazed elephant stomping toward the pit.

I am male. I’m thirty-one. I was born in Mombasa, Kenya. I am Jeremiah Enzi, but I go by Enzi Wata. I see my two men skidding away in a Jeep as the professor runs and hides behind the RV. I just got the shotgun out of the equipment trailer. I think of my wife, and I think of little Jomo in his overalls.

The elephant crashes down into the pit, and I am relieved but also saddened. The professor comes to edge of the pit. He asks if it is dying.
This conversation should be enough proof for both of them. How much time left?
I walk to elevator—
hey, that’s something! There’s no elevator anymore, and the pit is like a giant rectangle instead of the sloped wedge of half that size that’s there now. And I see a bunch of jackhammers in there, too, all leaned up against the walls, sitting deep in—

The timer buzzed his arm, and his bare hand lifted reflexively to push the stop button. Matt set the shotgun down on the table and replaced his right glove.

“So tell us!” Peter exclaimed. It had been years since he saw Matt work.

Matt took quick note of all their expressions, took a deep, steadying breath, and began. “Well, it was raining…”

“Uncanny,” Rheese quipped as the rain again began to patter down onto the RV roof.

“There were also two more men—I didn’t get to see their faces, but Enzi knew them as Chewy and Zuzuwe. They drove off in what I’m guessing was that Jeep parked outside, while Dr. Rheese ran and hid behind the RV back there.”

Rheese frowned and shot a look at Enzi.

“I not talk about any of it with them, Professor. I not know how he know.”

“Also, the two of you spoke to each other after the elephant fell in and caved in the whole side over there. You said ‘Is it dying?’ Then Enzi said, ‘Not survive that drop, sir. See his neck.’ And then you said ‘It made a bloody mess,’ and asked where Enzi was going as he walked over to an elevator. And the hole was much bigger, and there were jackhammers all along the walls.”

Rheese gulped. Peter frowned and looked at him with confusion.

“
Jackhammers,
Doctor?”

“Yes,” he replied dismissively. “We had them brought in just that day for some large stones we were having difficulty with.”

Enzi was amazed. His parents had told him stories of wizards that they insisted were true, but he had stopped believing in anything miraculous years ago. Could it be trickery? Could someone else have been there? Chui and Zuzuwi would not have heard them talk.

“What else?” Enzi asked with skepticism. “How can it be real?”

“When you walked out of the equipment trailer with the shotgun in your hands, you thought of your wife and son. You saw an image of him in your head. He was wearing light blue overalls with a black T-shirt and holding himself up with one hand on a glass table.”

Enzi felt his legs grow weak, and he sat down on the bench.
Impossible!
He thought over and over again as he stared at Matt.

Matt started to feel uncomfortable again and wondered if he had told a bit too much. He knew how freaky it must feel to have one’s thoughts told by a complete stranger. And this guy was looking at him a little too intensely now. Did he need to make that big an impression? Had he lost sight of his need for secrecy in favor of shutting up Dr. Rheese?

Tuni and Peter appeared pretty satisfied by the show, but Matt wanted to see Dr. Rheese’s reaction. He was gnawing at the inside of his cheek and tugging his earlobe, clearly conflicted. Peter broke the silence.

“So, Doctor, convinced?”

“I’m bashing it about it my head. How anyone could ever do that… ?”

“Well, Doctor,” Tuni said, “perhaps you could continue to think it over
and
have an opportunity to judge it some more after Matthew spends some more time with the artifact. Surely, this feat buys him a ticket to another ten minutes,” she added with a pleasant smile.

Her cheerful tone infuriated him, but if he didn’t agree to it, Sharma would simply overrule him. He would no longer appear to have control over the site, and no one would bother consulting him on
any
of the important decisions to come. It would set the precedent to go over his head to Peter from this moment on. He had no choice.

“I like it, folks,” he said with a grin. “Very interesting stuff. Let’s give it a ten-minute roll, but the same rule applies, Mr. Turner. If I fear for the artifact’s well-being, I pull the plug.”

“Right,” Matt replied, as if he himself had feared for the thing’s well-being all along. It was a good thing, though, last time. He would have been stuck! Best not to advertise that Rheese’s boorish behavior had pretty much saved him in the absence of his timer’s shock.

“May I stay?” Enzi asked Rheese.

“Of course,” he replied affably. “You certainly are a part of this now, aren’t you?” Rheese pulled out the most sincere laugh he could muster, while the scheming gears in the other side of his brain were whirring at full tilt. He was also still genuinely curious about the artifact—he merely doubted its ability to make him rich anytime soon, if at all.

“Hey,” Peter said to Matt. “Before we get started I’d like to hear what you saw so far. Did you take notes?”