Submerged

The afternoon passed uneventfully after that. Marcus retyped the reports. When he handed them in to Shipley, he said, “I’ve decided to make copies of my reports. In case we have another issue with the dates.”

Shipley squirmed in his chair, his face slightly pink.

Marcus’s message was clear. He wouldn’t put up with sabotage.

The guilt-ridden part of him knew he deserved Shipley’s disdain. But hell, he was clean now. He worked hard, ate well and did everything to prevent that other Marcus from showing up.

Except you still have that box.

Why the hell was he still holding on to it?

Because it’s a reminder of everything you’ve lost.

Jane had given him the wooden box with the medical insignia on it when he’d been hired by EMS. She hadn’t thought about what he’d store inside it. He supposed she figured he’d use it for his cufflinks, watch and his father’s ring. It had started off that way. He’d even kept his passport inside.

Until he started using drugs and needed a place to hide them.

The box had been a safe place. After all, why would Jane need to look at his few pieces of jewelry?

Stupid.

He recalled the night he’d come home after work and found Jane sitting at the dining room table, the open box in front of her. Her eyes were swollen. She’d been crying.

“Jane, what are you doing?”

“That’s what I was going to ask.”

He approached with slow steps, his mind churning over all the lies he could tell her. His stomach churned with each step closer.

“Marcus?” She looked up at him, tears welling in her eyes. “Why are there drugs in this box?”

He leaned over and closed the lid. He shut his eyes, ignoring the magnetic pull of his old friend. “Don’t worry about it, hon.”

“Are you doing drugs?”

His eyes flared open. “Why would you ask me that? Am I not providing for you, working hard, taking care of everything?”

“Of course you are, but—”

“But what? You’ve got nothing better to do than snoop through my things?”

“I wasn’t snooping.”

“No? Then why in hell were you looking in this?” He waved the box at her.

“I was going to surprise you on our anniversary.”

He snorted. “Surprise me?”

She wiped the back of her hand over her eyes. “I was going to get your father’s ring sized. So you can wear it.”

He clenched his teeth, fighting back the rising anger. He wasn’t simply pissed off at Jane. He was mad at his father for giving him a ring that didn’t fit. At himself for lying to Jane. At the drugs for making him so weak.

“You didn’t answer my question,” she said in a subdued tone.

“What question?”

She stared into his soul. “Are you doing drugs?”

“Only to manage my back pain. It’s no big deal.” He snatched his hand away. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you? There’s no prescription label on the bottle. Where did you get it?”

“From work. We don’t need prescriptions—merely someone to okay it.”

She gave him a doubtful look.

“Look, I’ll stop taking anything except ibuprofen. I promise.”

“So you’ll get rid of this?”

He took a deep breath and prepared for his biggest lie. “I’m not an addict, Jane. I don’t need this. It was a quick fix. A temporary fix.”

He walked over to the kitchen, opened the cupboard beneath the sink and tossed the box in the garbage can. “See? Gone.”

Jane stood and made a beeline for him, her hands shaking as she reached to touch his face. “I was so worried, Marcus. I thought… well, you know what I thought.”

He smiled, then kissed her lips. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

In the early morning, he had rummaged through the garbage until he found the box. After wiping it down, he hid it behind some tools in the garage.

Now it was in his brother’s footlocker.

It called to him. Use me. You’ll feel so good. You’ll be free. No more pain.

He took a long swig of coffee. It was cold.

During the dinner break, he pulled Leo aside. “I need to go to a meeting.”

Leo patted his arm and nodded. “We’ll go together.”

Carol entered the break room, and they moved away from each other.

“You two whispering secrets over there?” Carol asked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Leo said with a grin.

The woman let out a dramatic sigh. “There are a lot of things I’d like to know, Leonardo. Like why your wife lets you out in public wearing corduroys. Didn’t you know that went out in the ’80s?”

Marcus laughed. “She’s right about that, my friend.” He’d teased Leo about his cords for the past few months, but Leo liked to be different.

“What are you two—the fashion police?” Leo waved a hand in the air. “You two know nothing about fashion. Everything comes back eventually.”

“So you’re saying you’re ahead of the times?” Marcus asked.

All three started laughing. Well, if you could call Carol’s “snort, snort” a laugh.

Footsteps.

“Shit!” Leo muttered. “It’s probably Titanic.”

They erased all signs of laughter from their faces the second Shipley rounded the corner. He headed for the coffeepot without saying a word to any of them.