Authors: Rebecca Rohman
“I think I’ll take two aspirins
and lie down for a bit. I’m exhausted, and I have a massive headache.” He
kissed her on her forehead then retired to his room.
After fixing dinner, she eagerly
opened the envelope given to her by Theresa, curious to see what was inside.
Enclosed, she found stacks of
documents and newspaper clippings dating back to 1976. The newspaper clippings
were all about Mitch’s father doing talks to boys on the dangers of alcohol,
and how it could potentially lead to them raping someone they cared about.
There were transcripts of some of the talks and links to various websites and
YouTube with audio and video footage of his father’s speeches.
Chella booted up her laptop and
watched some of the footage.
They sat out
on the patio to enjoy the
steamed veggies and grilled tuna Chella had fixed for dinner. After ten minutes
of eating in complete silence Chella asked, “What are you thinking?”
Mitch looked at her, completely
lost, then replied, “I don’t know, Sweetheart. I’m numb.”
“Be patient with yourself. It may
take time. Do you want to be alone?”
“I’d like you to stay. It’s been
great being with you these last few days.”
“I’ve enjoyed them, too,” she
said, holding his hand and giving him a supportive squeeze. “I’m worried about
you.”
“I’ll be okay. I guess part of me
was hoping for some answers or closure or something, but I feel just as screwed
up as I did before, if not worse.”
“I have something you should take
a look at when you’re ready.” She retrieved the envelope from the desk inside
and handed it to him.
“This is from your father’s wife.
I’ve already checked it out. I know what’s inside.”
“How did you get this?”
“When you went to the bathroom,
she gave it to me. I didn’t want to overwhelm you when we got home. To be
honest, I wanted to vet it out first.”
He looked at her straight-faced;
she was unable to read his gaze.
“Why did you decide to give it to
me?”
“I would have given it to you
regardless. The timing might have been different if I thought what was inside
might cause you more pain.”
“Are you trying to protect me,
Miss Noon?” Mitch asked, smiling.
“Of course. I hate seeing you in
anguish.”
“Do I want to know what’s
inside?”
“It won’t change what happened,
but it might make a difference in how you see your father. Take your time,
Sweetheart. I know today has been overwhelming.”
“Thanks for your love and
support,” he replied, as he leaned over and kissed her on the lips.
“What do you want to do this
evening?”
“Tear your clothes off and make
love to you for hours.”
Not quite the response that she
was expecting, but she blushed at his words.
“What’s with the face?” Mitch
asked, interrupting her thoughts. “What’s on your mind?”
“I was curious about what brought
on your idea on how to spend the evening.”
“You want me to be honest?”
“Of course, always.”
“Chella, you’re the comfort in my
life right now. If I didn’t have you in my life, I think I’d go crazy. I
realize now these past few weeks I did shut you out, and it only made matters
worse.”
“So I’m a distraction?” Chella
replied with a smirk on her face.
“Actually, yes,” he conceded with
a smile. “A good, healthy distraction.”
She cleared their plates off the
table then leaned over and kissed him on the lips. Minutes later, they were in
the bedroom making love until they fell asleep a couple of hours later.
Chella awoke to an empty bed. The
bedside clock glowed 2:23 a.m. She went in search of Mitch. As she approached
the living room, she heard Mitch watching videos of his father on YouTube.
She curled up next to him and
watched. They didn’t speak. He wrapped his arms around her and continued to
listen and watch in silence.
She glanced at the coffee table
and noticed that there was a mark next to half the list of website links on the
paper. He had been listening and watching for some time.
They completed the list together.
Chella looked at him after the
last video ended and asked, “So?”
“This does change things,” said
Mitch. “After watching all those videos and the fact that he’s dedicated his
life to this, maybe he really is sorry. I have to talk to Mom. I hope she’ll
talk to me about this.”
“The only way you’ll know is if
you try. Call her tomorrow.”
“I was thinking that it might be
better to go see her. Things have been really bad between us. I’m not sure this
is a conversation we should have over the phone. She didn’t even say goodbye
the last time she left.”
“Why?”
“We got into a fight about you.”
“I’m sorry. Are you going to fly
there?”
“We can take the boat on Friday.
Take the trip that was delayed by the accident.”
“Sounds great, but I don’t need
to be present when you’ll have that conversation. It will only complicate
matters.
The following Friday
afternoon Mitch and Chella left
Shelter Island for a three-hour cruise to Marina Del Rey, a short fifteen minute
drive from Mitch’s mom’s house in Santa Monica. A gentle breeze, the flat
ocean’s surface and the lack of huge waves meant they arrived at their
destination sooner than planned. Mitch was eager to settle things with his mom,
so he headed to the nearby car rental company.
Chella waited on
Ciao Bella
.
Mitch was just pulling out of the
rental car lot when he heard a loud explosion. Pedestrians ran toward the
sound. Thick, black smoke bellowed in the air over the building rooftops.
Sirens roared, and two fire trucks and an ambulance flew by. He realized the
smoke was coming from the direction of his boat.
He quickly called Chella, but the
phone went straight to voice mail. Something was wrong. He drove across the
street and parked the car. The boat—his boat, or the little that was left of
it—was on fire. His heart plummeted. He ran from his vehicle toward the dock,
but the police and fire fighters held him back.
“My girlfriend’s on that boat!”
He shouted, trying to break free of their hold.
“Sir, we’ve found her. She’s
okay. Safe in the ambulance over there.” One of the men said to him, pointing
him in the direction of the vehicle.
Mitch ran toward the ambulance.
When he saw her, he sighed with relief. She was covered in soot, and blood ran
down her knees.
“Chella, my God. Are you okay?”
he asked, pulling her into his arms.
“I’m okay,” she replied, but her
shaking hands told a different story.
“You’re bleeding.”
“I grazed my knees when I fell.”
“What happened?”
“One of the buoys was hanging
low. I heard the side of the boat hitting the dock, so I pulled it up a bit and
tightened it. Then I went to have a look at a yacht at the end of the pier and
on my way back the boat exploded.”
A paramedic cleaned the scrapes
on her knees. Mitch wiped her face clean.
“This wasn’t an accident. That
asshole Aaron is responsible for this. We need to talk to the police,” Mitch
said angrily.
“You think he had someone follow
us here?”
“No. I would have noticed if we
had a boat on our tail the whole time, but there’s no logical reason for the
boat to blow up.”
A firefighter interrupted. “I’m
Lieutenant Marshall. Are you the owner of the boat?”
“Yes, I am,” Mitch replied.
“Did you just fill up on fuel?”
“No. I filled up over a month
ago. This wasn’t fumes.”
“That’s one of the most common
causes of boating explosions, sir.”
“I’m aware of that, Lieutenant.
We have every reason to believe this wasn’t an accident. We need to get the
police down here. You can call Detective Carter at the SDPD, and he’ll have
more information.”
“I’ll do that, but we still need
to rule out an accident.”
“I obviously don’t have any
records now, but she was last serviced two months ago right here. Since then we
went to Morro Bay and San Diego with no problems. We sailed up from San Diego
over three hours ago. I’m sure they have my records.” Mitch pointed to the
marina’s maintenance facility.
“Did you do any safety checks
before you left San Diego?”
“Yes.”
“Did you have alarms and
detectors on the boat?”
“Yes, several. One in every room
and four in the saloon and engine room. They were checked the last time the
boat was serviced.”
“Did you hear any alarms go off?”
“I wasn’t there. My girlfriend
was alone on the boat.”
“No alarms,” said Chella. “When
he left, I was in the galley getting a drink out of the cooler. I heard the
side of the boat hitting the dock. I went to tighten the buoy and saw the yacht
over there. I wanted to see it close-up, so I walked to the end of the pier. On
my way back the boat exploded. There were no alarms.
“How long do you think you were
off the boat?
“Maybe two minutes.”
“Were you cooking? Smoking? Did
you have candles lit?”
“No, no and no. Neither of us
smokes, and we were the only two who travelled on the boat.”
“Did you see anyone walking or
running away from the boat?
“No.”
“Lieutenant with all due respect,
our lives have been in danger for the last few months, hers for the last ten
years. It makes me really nervous to be out here in the open talking about it
when someone might be watching us from nearby.”
“I have to go through these
procedural questions.”
“That’s fine, but can we do it in
a more secure place and get the police down here in the meantime?”
They moved to the Marina office.
Fifteen minutes later, the bomb squad arrived with dogs who detected the scent
of explosives. Mitch immediately called Detective Carter and told him what
happened. After two hours of much communication between the Santa Monica Police
Department, SDPD and the fire department, Mitch and Chella were allowed to
leave.
From a distance, they stared at
the remnants of the boat. There was barely a trace of
Ciao Bella
left.
“Are you sure you don’t what me
to take you to the hospital to get checked out?” said Mitch.
“No. I have a small bump on my
head, but I’m okay. I’m really sorry about
Ciao Bella
.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“I know how much you love that
boat.”
“The boat doesn’t matter anymore.
All that matters is that you’re safe. I should stop somewhere to get us some
clothes and things.”
“I would go with you, but I look
like I stepped out of a coal mine.”
“You do,” he said, smiling at
her.
Mitch’s cell phone rang. After a
bit of conversation, Chella realized he was talking to Detective Carter. The
call lasted only for a few minutes.
Mitch shook his head in
disbelief.
“They got video footage from the
marina of a couple entering the boat a few hours after we came in the last
time. He says he’s not a hundred percent certain, but one might be a woman, and
they might be the same two that vandalized my vehicle. They suspect the
explosives were set on a timer to go off three hours after the boat started. If
I had traveled any slower, we wouldn’t be here right now.”
“This is unbelievable.”
“No worries. It looks like we’ll
be okay. The device was installed weeks ago. No one has followed us here. You
can have some peace of mind for the next few days.”
“Why don’t you buy us some things
for tonight and maybe tomorrow? We can take Emily shopping and go to the pier
since our plans have changed.”
“Sounds good. Any requests?”
“You know me well enough. And
this time no I love Santa Monica underwear, please.”
He smiled at her words and kissed
her on the lips.
“Can you leave me your phone?
I’ll find somewhere for us to stay while you shop.”
“Great idea. Use this,” he
responded, pulling a credit card from his wallet and handing it to her.
An hour later,
they were all checked in at the
hotel, their home for the next few days. They now had to reorganize their
entire trip, and because Chella’s ID was destroyed in the explosion, flying
back was out of the question. It was looking more likely that they’d have to
take the three-hour drive back to San Diego.
After they showered and had
dinner, they lay in bed watching TV. Mitch eventually fell asleep. Chella shut
off the lights and tried to sleep, but after an hour and a half, her efforts were
futile. She got out of bed, walked over the wall of glass windows and looked
out at the marina.
Ciao Bella
was gone, the one place that allowed her
to feel free and safe. In the process, Mitch had lost one of his prized
possessions, the second in less than a month. How could she make up for a loss
like that? The days when she could pull away and say it was over were gone. She
had fallen deeply in love with him, too deep to back out now.