Arriving Home
To appear casual, Evelyn sat at the table, reading the same line in one of her books over and over. Jonathan, who was never without a deck of cards, played solitaire. "Fancy a game of chess?" he asked his sister.
"No, thank you," she said.
It was getting late, nearly eleven. "Evy…" he began.
"Reading," she admonished.
Jonathan sighed and began to lay out the cards for another round of solitaire. How long was she going to keep this up? Rick wasn't coming back. Jonathan almost envied his freedom. Oh, to be young and rich and stupid. Hmmm. He had been, not that long ago. Now, he was just rich and stupid. How many times had he treated girls this way himself? None that had really loved him, he thought. Had any really loved him? Was he really that much of a cad? He had been called a cad, a drunkard and a stupid bastard; he supposed he was. And now, O'Connell was a stupid bastard too.
*~*~*~*~*~*
O'Connell, the other stupid bastard sat waiting for train 217. He was going to have a good time in Tangier; he always did. Christo ought to be out of jail by now, how much time did a guy get for public nudity in Morocco? Rick chuckled to himself; he'd nearly been hanged for it in Egypt a few weeks ago. Let's see, public nudity got you 90 days in France, one month in Portugal and just a 200 Deut marc fine in Germany: those people knew how to have a good time.
Ah, yes. Christo. I wonder if he still has that boat? No matter. We'll just buy a new one, Rick thought. Christo had been one of many friends that Rick had schemed with. They had planned to start a salvage/charter/smuggling company based in the Mediterranean, modern-day pirates if you will, but they had never been able to come up with enough money. That was no longer a problem.
He didn't really need Christo to do it. He didn't really need anyone, actually. Money and freedom was all he had ever needed, and now he had both.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Lost again. Confounded game; he'd even cheated and he still lost. Jonathan rubbed his eyes and looked at his sister. Something was missing… "Evy," he exclaimed. "Where's your locket?" It held pictures of their mother and father. Their parents had given it to her when she was a child; she was always so upset when they went on digs without her, and her mother had said that as long as she wore it, they would be with her. She had never taken it off.
Her hand rose to her neck to feel for it. "Oh," she said. "It's gone. I hadn't noticed."
"I can help you look for it…" he offered.
"No. If it's gone, it's gone," she said resignedly.
"Evy, you love that locket…"
"It's just a thing, Jonathan. One doesn't love a thing."
"But…"
"It's alright, Jonathan."
"Are you sure?" he asked.
"Positive," she said, not looking up from the page. 'The treasure, suspected to be hidden somewhere within the Great Pyramid of Giza, has never been found.'
"I'll just look around for it a bit…" Jonathan said. Anything but another game of solitaire. He began to root around the room, looking under cushions and rugs.
"Suit yourself," Evelyn replied. Back to the book: 'The treasure, suspected to be hidden somewhere within the Great Pyramid of Giza, has never been found.' Well of course it hasn't, she thought. They don't know where to look… Or maybe it was never really there in the first place.
*~*~*~*~*~*
It was a five day trip to Tangier from Cairo. A first class ticket bought you a private cabin with a comfortable fold-out bed. The dining car had excellent food, the incessant desert scenery left something to be desired, but boredom was easily quenched with whiskey. Five days to Tangier from Cairo, with a stop along the way in Tripoli. A first class ticket allowed one to disembark for a few days, then continue the journey. The steam train's whistle blew and the wheels began to laboriously turn, a black cloud of smoke and soot billowed out behind dusting the wooden seats of the train platform, leaving Cairo and all within it behind.
*~*~*~*~*~*
'The treasure, suspected to be hidden somewhere within the Great Pyramid of Giza, has never been found.' Enough of this. Evelyn snapped the book shut. "I'm going to bed," she announced to the empty room. She stood and walked into the bedroom. Jonathan's legs were sticking out from under the bed.
"The damn thing has to be somewhere…" he said.
Evelyn took off her shoes and tossed them into the closet. She began unbuttoning the top buttons of her blouse. "It really doesn't matter, Jonathan," she said. "I can live without it."
Jonathan crawled out from under the bed and looked at her. Evelyn had sat on the padded bench in front of her dressing stand and was taking down her hair, tossing the pins into the top drawer. He stood behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. "Are you alright?" he asked.
"I'll be fine," she said, determined not to cry until she was alone. "I just really thought…"
Jonathan leaned forward, wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. "So did I," he said. "So did I."
There was a knock at the door.
"Oh my God," cried Evelyn. "Hide!" She stood up, her head hitting Jonathan under the chin, making him bite his tongue. He clamped his hand over his mouth and dove under the bed. "No, not under there!" Evelyn hissed.
Jonathan climbed back out. "No, of course not, not under there," he said. Evelyn went toward the door to the main room. "Wait just a minute, why not under the bed?" Jonathan asked, suddenly suspicious. "I tell you that's exactly where I'll be: under the bed! You are a lady and I expect you to remain so until…"
"Jonathan!" Evelyn snapped, horrified. "How dare you! I would never! If you hide under the bed, idiot, you'll be seen!" She pointed to the bed – the legs raised it eighteen inches.
"Oh, oh! Of course," said Jonathan, "I knew that."
There was another knock at the door. Evelyn again started toward it. "I'll just hide in here then," Jonathan said. "In the bedroom. Where you won't need to be…" he added pointedly.
She scowled at him. "Of course not!" she said and took a step toward the door.
"Wait!" Jonathan called. Evelyn froze. "Your hair."
Her hands flew up to her hair, half of which was hanging down her back, the other half still pinned up. "Up or down?" she asked frantically.
"Down, of course," said Jonathan. She pulled out the last of the pins and shook out her curls. Jonathan looked her over. Her hair was wild and tousled; much too suggestive. "No, up," he said.
"No time, I'm going to the door," Evelyn said and turned again.
"Wait," Jonathan called. "Your blouse… the buttons!"
She looked down, four of them were undone and a good bit of skin was showing. She buttoned one.
Jonathan crossed his arms. "Another," he commanded.
Evelyn rolled her eyes and buttoned another button. There was another knock at the door. "Go, go…" said Jonathan.
Evelyn turned and rushed to the door, unbuttoning the button she had just fastened, and then buttoning it up again. She paused, wiped her hands on her skirt, and opened the door.
It was Rick. "Hi," he said.
"Hi," said Evelyn.
"I, um…" he fumbled in his pocket and pulled out her locket. "You left this… it fell off… I found it… here." He dangled it in front of her.
"Thank you," she said. She turned around and held up her hair. "Can you put it on me, please?" she asked.
He stared at the back of her neck. God, she had a beautiful neck. "Um, yeah. I can do that," he said. Easier said than done. Rick was almost afraid to touch her because he wouldn't want to stop. The tiny clasp felt awkward in his fingers and God, her hair smelled wonderful.
Evelyn felt his breath on the back of her neck and his fingers brushing the small hairs there. She fought hard not to sway.
Rick finally got the clasp fastened. "There," he said. She let her hair fall, he wasn't quick enough and it brushed his hands as he pulled them away. Electrifying.
Evelyn turned to face him, her hand over her heart, touching the locket. "Thank you," she said.
Rick pulled out the deck of cards. "And these, these are for Jonathan. They are Jonathan, I mean they belong to him. Here." He held out the cards.
"Oh, well. You can just give them to him yourself," Evelyn said. "Tomorrow?" she asked hopefully.
"Tomorrows good," agreed Rick. He put the cards back in his pocket. The tiny velvet box was there. He clutched it in a sweaty palm.
God, don't send him away, thought Jonathan, listening from the other room. Get him now, girl!
"Fine then," Evelyn said. "So, you'll be back tomorrow?"
Jonathan rolled his eyes and banged his head against the wall.
"What was that noise?" asked Rick.
"The cat," lied Evelyn. In about five minutes it's going to be my dead brother, she thought.
"Oh, the white cat," said Rick.
"Yes," said Evelyn.
"I liked that cat," he lied.
"Me too," said Evelyn.
Jonathan banged his head again.
"What's he doing?" asked Rick, trying to look around her.
"I have no idea," said Evelyn, standing firm. "So, tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow," agreed Rick. He backed up out the door. He was clutching the tiny box so hard he was afraid he would break it. "Unless…" he began.
Evelyn paused. "Unless?"
Jonathan perked up. Do it, man, he thought.
Do it, man, Rick told himself. He got down on one knee. Evelyn was sure she was going to faint. "Evelyn…" he began. "I know that I've been a complete jerk these past few days…
Good start, thought Jonathan. What an idiot.
"No you haven't," said Evelyn.
"Yes, yes I have," Rick said. "And I'm sorry. I just didn't think that things would work out and I didn't want… You are the best thing that ever happened to me, Evelyn. I know that I'm not the kind of guy that gets a girl like you…"
Ah, the pity ploy, thought Jonathan. Tried that one myself a few times; never worked. The boy is an amateur.
"…but I promise that I will try my best to make things good for us, to make you happy." Rick pulled the box out of his pocket and opened it. "I love you, Evelyn Carnahan… will you marry me?"
Evelyn gasped and put her hands over her mouth. "Oh, my God," she breathed.
"Say 'yes'", whispered Jonathan.
"Yes," said Evelyn. She held out her left hand. Rick took the ring out of the box and slipped it onto her finger. It wasn't easy with them both shaking. Rick stood, took her in his arms and kissed her.
Jonathan did a silent dance of joy and waited for Evelyn to call him out. He waited too long. It was too quiet out there. He coughed.
Rick and Evelyn parted. "That wasn't the cat," Rick said.
Jonathan came out of the bedroom. "Let me be the first to congratulate you both," he said. He shook Rick's hand; them embraced his sister, and then embraced Rick. "When is the big day?" he asked.
"I don't know," laughed Rick. "We just kinda found out it's happening…" He looked at Evelyn, she was radiant. "As soon as possible," he said and pulled her in for another kiss.
Jonathan coughed again. "Save some of that for the wedding night, old man," he cautioned.
"Oh, there's plenty to go around," Rick said with a grin.
"She is my sister!" Jonathan asserted.
"And she is my wife…" said Rick.
"Wife…" said Evelyn with a dreamy smile.
Jonathan stepped between them. "Yes, well, not yet she isn't and it's quite late and I think it's quite time we all got to bed. To sleep. In our own respective beds. In our own respective homes…"
Rick knew Jonathan was right. If he stayed much longer his behavior would not be respectable for long. "I will see you in the morning," he told Evelyn He took her hand with the ring on it and kissed it.
"Goodnight," she said staring up into his dark blue eyes.
"Goodnight," he said, not releasing her hand.
Jonathan removed Evelyn's hand from Rick's. "Pleeease," he said. "Let's go, old man. I'll buy you a drink." He wanted to keep an eye on Rick—he wasn't going to skip town on Jonathan's watch. He ushered Rick out the door. "Goodnight, baby sister," he told Evelyn with a wink.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Two weeks later, an envelope with two letters arrived at the fort addressed to Richard O'Connell. The first was from General Edward Larson. It apologized for his son's behavior and all of the trouble he had caused. In return for not making any embarrassing public accusations, the General had granted Rick a full pardon for using a false identity and deserting the US Army.
The second letter was addressed to Benjamin Reese. It was from Arlen Holbrook. Arlen had been mortally wounded in battle three months after Rick left. He was hospitalized for nearly a week before he died and had written letters to his friends and family.
The letter read:
My dear friend Benjamin,
You won the bet. You always said my big head made a good target and I'd get shot first. I hate it when you are right, but the joke is really on you because you'll have to meet me upstairs to collect your fifty bucks. I have no idea where to send this letter and I'm not putting money in it to just sit on a shelf and wait for you.
I did as you asked, I told them you were the one who shot Larson. They believed me and I've felt like a real bastard ever since. I only kept my mouth shut because I know they haven't found you. I planned to speak up with the truth if they ever did. Since I won't be here, I wrote this letter in case they do. By the time you read this, General Larson will be reading a letter of his own telling him what his son did. I am not going to leave this world with out trying to set this thing straight.
You were a good friend, Benjamin. I'm glad to have had the chance to know you. Don't let this go to your head because it's not that much smaller than mine, but you're a good man. Someday, you'll realize that for yourself. Try not to wait too long, buddy.
Arlen Holbrook
Rick folded the letter and put it in his coat pocket. Maybe Arlen was right. Evelyn and Jonathan both seemed to think so. He had the rest of his life to do what he could to live up to their expectations. And his own. Today, he had a wedding to attend.
To appear casual, Evelyn sat at the table, reading the same line in one of her books over and over. Jonathan, who was never without a deck of cards, played solitaire. "Fancy a game of chess?" he asked his sister.
"No, thank you," she said.
It was getting late, nearly eleven. "Evy…" he began.
"Reading," she admonished.
Jonathan sighed and began to lay out the cards for another round of solitaire. How long was she going to keep this up? Rick wasn't coming back. Jonathan almost envied his freedom. Oh, to be young and rich and stupid. Hmmm. He had been, not that long ago. Now, he was just rich and stupid. How many times had he treated girls this way himself? None that had really loved him, he thought. Had any really loved him? Was he really that much of a cad? He had been called a cad, a drunkard and a stupid bastard; he supposed he was. And now, O'Connell was a stupid bastard too.
*~*~*~*~*~*
O'Connell, the other stupid bastard sat waiting for train 217. He was going to have a good time in Tangier; he always did. Christo ought to be out of jail by now, how much time did a guy get for public nudity in Morocco? Rick chuckled to himself; he'd nearly been hanged for it in Egypt a few weeks ago. Let's see, public nudity got you 90 days in France, one month in Portugal and just a 200 Deut marc fine in Germany: those people knew how to have a good time.
Ah, yes. Christo. I wonder if he still has that boat? No matter. We'll just buy a new one, Rick thought. Christo had been one of many friends that Rick had schemed with. They had planned to start a salvage/charter/smuggling company based in the Mediterranean, modern-day pirates if you will, but they had never been able to come up with enough money. That was no longer a problem.
He didn't really need Christo to do it. He didn't really need anyone, actually. Money and freedom was all he had ever needed, and now he had both.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Lost again. Confounded game; he'd even cheated and he still lost. Jonathan rubbed his eyes and looked at his sister. Something was missing… "Evy," he exclaimed. "Where's your locket?" It held pictures of their mother and father. Their parents had given it to her when she was a child; she was always so upset when they went on digs without her, and her mother had said that as long as she wore it, they would be with her. She had never taken it off.
Her hand rose to her neck to feel for it. "Oh," she said. "It's gone. I hadn't noticed."
"I can help you look for it…" he offered.
"No. If it's gone, it's gone," she said resignedly.
"Evy, you love that locket…"
"It's just a thing, Jonathan. One doesn't love a thing."
"But…"
"It's alright, Jonathan."
"Are you sure?" he asked.
"Positive," she said, not looking up from the page. 'The treasure, suspected to be hidden somewhere within the Great Pyramid of Giza, has never been found.'
"I'll just look around for it a bit…" Jonathan said. Anything but another game of solitaire. He began to root around the room, looking under cushions and rugs.
"Suit yourself," Evelyn replied. Back to the book: 'The treasure, suspected to be hidden somewhere within the Great Pyramid of Giza, has never been found.' Well of course it hasn't, she thought. They don't know where to look… Or maybe it was never really there in the first place.
*~*~*~*~*~*
It was a five day trip to Tangier from Cairo. A first class ticket bought you a private cabin with a comfortable fold-out bed. The dining car had excellent food, the incessant desert scenery left something to be desired, but boredom was easily quenched with whiskey. Five days to Tangier from Cairo, with a stop along the way in Tripoli. A first class ticket allowed one to disembark for a few days, then continue the journey. The steam train's whistle blew and the wheels began to laboriously turn, a black cloud of smoke and soot billowed out behind dusting the wooden seats of the train platform, leaving Cairo and all within it behind.
*~*~*~*~*~*
'The treasure, suspected to be hidden somewhere within the Great Pyramid of Giza, has never been found.' Enough of this. Evelyn snapped the book shut. "I'm going to bed," she announced to the empty room. She stood and walked into the bedroom. Jonathan's legs were sticking out from under the bed.
"The damn thing has to be somewhere…" he said.
Evelyn took off her shoes and tossed them into the closet. She began unbuttoning the top buttons of her blouse. "It really doesn't matter, Jonathan," she said. "I can live without it."
Jonathan crawled out from under the bed and looked at her. Evelyn had sat on the padded bench in front of her dressing stand and was taking down her hair, tossing the pins into the top drawer. He stood behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. "Are you alright?" he asked.
"I'll be fine," she said, determined not to cry until she was alone. "I just really thought…"
Jonathan leaned forward, wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. "So did I," he said. "So did I."
There was a knock at the door.
"Oh my God," cried Evelyn. "Hide!" She stood up, her head hitting Jonathan under the chin, making him bite his tongue. He clamped his hand over his mouth and dove under the bed. "No, not under there!" Evelyn hissed.
Jonathan climbed back out. "No, of course not, not under there," he said. Evelyn went toward the door to the main room. "Wait just a minute, why not under the bed?" Jonathan asked, suddenly suspicious. "I tell you that's exactly where I'll be: under the bed! You are a lady and I expect you to remain so until…"
"Jonathan!" Evelyn snapped, horrified. "How dare you! I would never! If you hide under the bed, idiot, you'll be seen!" She pointed to the bed – the legs raised it eighteen inches.
"Oh, oh! Of course," said Jonathan, "I knew that."
There was another knock at the door. Evelyn again started toward it. "I'll just hide in here then," Jonathan said. "In the bedroom. Where you won't need to be…" he added pointedly.
She scowled at him. "Of course not!" she said and took a step toward the door.
"Wait!" Jonathan called. Evelyn froze. "Your hair."
Her hands flew up to her hair, half of which was hanging down her back, the other half still pinned up. "Up or down?" she asked frantically.
"Down, of course," said Jonathan. She pulled out the last of the pins and shook out her curls. Jonathan looked her over. Her hair was wild and tousled; much too suggestive. "No, up," he said.
"No time, I'm going to the door," Evelyn said and turned again.
"Wait," Jonathan called. "Your blouse… the buttons!"
She looked down, four of them were undone and a good bit of skin was showing. She buttoned one.
Jonathan crossed his arms. "Another," he commanded.
Evelyn rolled her eyes and buttoned another button. There was another knock at the door. "Go, go…" said Jonathan.
Evelyn turned and rushed to the door, unbuttoning the button she had just fastened, and then buttoning it up again. She paused, wiped her hands on her skirt, and opened the door.
It was Rick. "Hi," he said.
"Hi," said Evelyn.
"I, um…" he fumbled in his pocket and pulled out her locket. "You left this… it fell off… I found it… here." He dangled it in front of her.
"Thank you," she said. She turned around and held up her hair. "Can you put it on me, please?" she asked.
He stared at the back of her neck. God, she had a beautiful neck. "Um, yeah. I can do that," he said. Easier said than done. Rick was almost afraid to touch her because he wouldn't want to stop. The tiny clasp felt awkward in his fingers and God, her hair smelled wonderful.
Evelyn felt his breath on the back of her neck and his fingers brushing the small hairs there. She fought hard not to sway.
Rick finally got the clasp fastened. "There," he said. She let her hair fall, he wasn't quick enough and it brushed his hands as he pulled them away. Electrifying.
Evelyn turned to face him, her hand over her heart, touching the locket. "Thank you," she said.
Rick pulled out the deck of cards. "And these, these are for Jonathan. They are Jonathan, I mean they belong to him. Here." He held out the cards.
"Oh, well. You can just give them to him yourself," Evelyn said. "Tomorrow?" she asked hopefully.
"Tomorrows good," agreed Rick. He put the cards back in his pocket. The tiny velvet box was there. He clutched it in a sweaty palm.
God, don't send him away, thought Jonathan, listening from the other room. Get him now, girl!
"Fine then," Evelyn said. "So, you'll be back tomorrow?"
Jonathan rolled his eyes and banged his head against the wall.
"What was that noise?" asked Rick.
"The cat," lied Evelyn. In about five minutes it's going to be my dead brother, she thought.
"Oh, the white cat," said Rick.
"Yes," said Evelyn.
"I liked that cat," he lied.
"Me too," said Evelyn.
Jonathan banged his head again.
"What's he doing?" asked Rick, trying to look around her.
"I have no idea," said Evelyn, standing firm. "So, tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow," agreed Rick. He backed up out the door. He was clutching the tiny box so hard he was afraid he would break it. "Unless…" he began.
Evelyn paused. "Unless?"
Jonathan perked up. Do it, man, he thought.
Do it, man, Rick told himself. He got down on one knee. Evelyn was sure she was going to faint. "Evelyn…" he began. "I know that I've been a complete jerk these past few days…
Good start, thought Jonathan. What an idiot.
"No you haven't," said Evelyn.
"Yes, yes I have," Rick said. "And I'm sorry. I just didn't think that things would work out and I didn't want… You are the best thing that ever happened to me, Evelyn. I know that I'm not the kind of guy that gets a girl like you…"
Ah, the pity ploy, thought Jonathan. Tried that one myself a few times; never worked. The boy is an amateur.
"…but I promise that I will try my best to make things good for us, to make you happy." Rick pulled the box out of his pocket and opened it. "I love you, Evelyn Carnahan… will you marry me?"
Evelyn gasped and put her hands over her mouth. "Oh, my God," she breathed.
"Say 'yes'", whispered Jonathan.
"Yes," said Evelyn. She held out her left hand. Rick took the ring out of the box and slipped it onto her finger. It wasn't easy with them both shaking. Rick stood, took her in his arms and kissed her.
Jonathan did a silent dance of joy and waited for Evelyn to call him out. He waited too long. It was too quiet out there. He coughed.
Rick and Evelyn parted. "That wasn't the cat," Rick said.
Jonathan came out of the bedroom. "Let me be the first to congratulate you both," he said. He shook Rick's hand; them embraced his sister, and then embraced Rick. "When is the big day?" he asked.
"I don't know," laughed Rick. "We just kinda found out it's happening…" He looked at Evelyn, she was radiant. "As soon as possible," he said and pulled her in for another kiss.
Jonathan coughed again. "Save some of that for the wedding night, old man," he cautioned.
"Oh, there's plenty to go around," Rick said with a grin.
"She is my sister!" Jonathan asserted.
"And she is my wife…" said Rick.
"Wife…" said Evelyn with a dreamy smile.
Jonathan stepped between them. "Yes, well, not yet she isn't and it's quite late and I think it's quite time we all got to bed. To sleep. In our own respective beds. In our own respective homes…"
Rick knew Jonathan was right. If he stayed much longer his behavior would not be respectable for long. "I will see you in the morning," he told Evelyn He took her hand with the ring on it and kissed it.
"Goodnight," she said staring up into his dark blue eyes.
"Goodnight," he said, not releasing her hand.
Jonathan removed Evelyn's hand from Rick's. "Pleeease," he said. "Let's go, old man. I'll buy you a drink." He wanted to keep an eye on Rick—he wasn't going to skip town on Jonathan's watch. He ushered Rick out the door. "Goodnight, baby sister," he told Evelyn with a wink.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Two weeks later, an envelope with two letters arrived at the fort addressed to Richard O'Connell. The first was from General Edward Larson. It apologized for his son's behavior and all of the trouble he had caused. In return for not making any embarrassing public accusations, the General had granted Rick a full pardon for using a false identity and deserting the US Army.
The second letter was addressed to Benjamin Reese. It was from Arlen Holbrook. Arlen had been mortally wounded in battle three months after Rick left. He was hospitalized for nearly a week before he died and had written letters to his friends and family.
The letter read:
My dear friend Benjamin,
You won the bet. You always said my big head made a good target and I'd get shot first. I hate it when you are right, but the joke is really on you because you'll have to meet me upstairs to collect your fifty bucks. I have no idea where to send this letter and I'm not putting money in it to just sit on a shelf and wait for you.
I did as you asked, I told them you were the one who shot Larson. They believed me and I've felt like a real bastard ever since. I only kept my mouth shut because I know they haven't found you. I planned to speak up with the truth if they ever did. Since I won't be here, I wrote this letter in case they do. By the time you read this, General Larson will be reading a letter of his own telling him what his son did. I am not going to leave this world with out trying to set this thing straight.
You were a good friend, Benjamin. I'm glad to have had the chance to know you. Don't let this go to your head because it's not that much smaller than mine, but you're a good man. Someday, you'll realize that for yourself. Try not to wait too long, buddy.
Arlen Holbrook
Rick folded the letter and put it in his coat pocket. Maybe Arlen was right. Evelyn and Jonathan both seemed to think so. He had the rest of his life to do what he could to live up to their expectations. And his own. Today, he had a wedding to attend.