Free IT LIVES IN THE BASEMENT by Sahara Foley Page B

together, long before Mark met and married John Carter’s sister, Sharon.  Mark’s marriage to Sharon, back in 1962, hadn’t changed their friendship.
    After last night, John Carter wondered if his brother-in-law would want to go fishing with him again.  But then, he didn’t know if he’d want to go fishing again either.
    Siting on the table top, putting his feet up on the seat, Mark demanded, “So, John?  Are you going to explain this to me?  I know I saw something, and I know you saw it, and by the way you acted, you knew what it was.  And dammit man, I have to know .”
    Looking around, John admonished, “Hold it down, Mark .  You want to wake everyone up?”
    The younger man scooted closer to John.  “Okay, I’m sorry, but dammit John, this has me going.  Either that, or I’m losing my mind or you’re humoring me.”
    John had two rods in the water, as did Mark.  John pointed to one of Mark’s bobbers, which was wobbling, rings spreading out in the calm water.  Reluctantly Mark climbed off the picnic table and went over to his line.
    As Mark knelt, ready for the strike, John said softly, “No, you’re not losing your mind and I’m not humoring you.  What we saw was there, and it was real. Now, until my friend shows up, I don’t want to talk about what we saw.  Okay, Mark?”
    Mark, jerking on his rod, then reeling, said over his shoulder, “Okay, just as long as you explain what we saw.  You know me; I’ll go crazy if I don’t find out.  You have no idea the weird thoughts going through my mind since we saw it.”
    Wearily , Carter thought, Probably better than the truth will be, old buddy.
    The women woke, bustling around , doing their normal routines and the morning progressed.
    After being up all night fishing, John and Mark normally went to bed after eating breakfast, but this morning neither man went to lie down, though they looked more tired than usual after an all-nighter.  Both men seemed distracted, the familiar joshing and fish stories suspiciously absent.   John was grateful their wives weren’t pestering them with unanswerable questions.  If he survived his crazy scheme, he knew he’d have to tell Cathy part of the truth.
    Ar ound eleven, John stood, striding over and into their green and white nylon tent.  When he ducked back out a few minutes later, instead of the shorts and sandals he’d been wearing, he was dressed in jeans, a white shirt that hung to below his belt, his boots and reflecting sunglasses.  Sitting at the picnic table, John noticed Cathy staring at the holstered gun on his belt.
    Forestalling Cathy’s question, with his cop look and voice, he told her, “Honey, pretty soon we’re going to have a guest and Mark and I have to go talk with him.  We’ll have lunch and a few beers when we’re done.  I’m sorry, but I have to do this.”  After over half a lifetime of marriage, John knew Cathy understood the futility of arguing with him when he was wearing his cop attitude.
    Concern on her face, Cathy simply said, “Okay, John, but remember today is your birthday , and you’re supposed to be on vacation.  Is this about a case?”
    John nodded.  “Yes, honey.  Maybe the biggest case this country has ever seen.”
    Looking nervous, she asked, “What is it?  Drugs?  Gangs?  Serial murders?  What, honey?”
    He smiled at her.  “You know I can’t talk with you about the case yet.  Please , just hold on for a while.  I’ll tell you when I can.”
    Stepping around him , she started rubbing his shoulders.  “I know, I know.  But sometimes an old lady gets curious and a little nosey.”
    Hearing a vehicle approaching, John glanced up, watching Alvarez dri ve across the graveled, visitor parking lot in his big, green Blazer.  Standing and facing his life partner, he kissed her lightly on the tip of her nose. “Curious?  Yes.  Old lady and nosey?  No.”
    Smiling with love, Cathy watched John’s tall, lean figure as he walked toward