Chapter 43

He realized that this morning would be the last time he would be fully relaxed for a while so he intended to take full advantage. Bowman stayed in bed until it was evident that he would not be able to get back to sleep. Eventually, he forced himself from the bed and set up the coffee maker - staring at it until the coffee brewed. Then he took his coffee and a government chart out on the deck at the rear of the cabin.

He recalled a cacophony of sounds the previous evening, mostly from insects, frogs croaking and occasional bobcat screams or hoots from owls. The noises had a soothing effect, much like that of light rainfall, but Bowman couldn't help thinking how unpleasant life here would be without window screens and insect repellent. He anticipated similar sounds that morning, but silence dominated. So much so that the flapping of an egret's wing or the rustling of squirrels jumping from branch to branch seemed magnified. All sounds were isolated.

He studied the chart while he drank his coffee. Quiet continued to dominate his senses.

Bowman felt like a big spender at a discount store in Slidell, filling his basket with a large size of every insect repellent in stock and a cheap spinning reel and rod. He studied lures searching for one that would be quiet running and from which all hooks could be removed. His last selection was three fishing vests, two in day-glow orange and one in camouflage, all extra large. He also purchased an assortment of needles and some thread to match the color sewn in the seams of the orange vests.

He hoped Yvonne would return to the cabin by one o'clock that afternoon. The weather was warm, and it was clear. A good afternoon for calibrating the equipment. When she was not there by two, he became antsy. As it neared three, his attention was no longer drawn to the front of the cabin, but to the telephone. Surely, she would call, he thought. He reminded himself to call Baltimore tonight. He was in the kitchen when Yvonne entered the front door carrying a cardboard box.

"I just about gave up hope and decided it was a no go," he said.

"No, it wasn't a problem. Everyone is just being extremely careful now. I had to go from Property to Aubrian's office, then to Superintendent Stokley, who then called the mayor. All were in favor of letting you have it, but nobody wanted to assume responsibility. Once the mayor got involved, the only question was whether the equipment available was suitable for your needs. Stokley understood what you wanted, but he was concerned that what he has is not really state-of-the-art enough.

The mayor apparently told him to get what you need and order it for overnight shipment. I promise you - you don't want to know the cost. I couldn't believe it."

"You're right, I don't want to know. I'm feelin' enough pressure as it is," Bowman answered.

"Anyway, I brought the old monitor and four transmitters. They will work on the new monitor when it gets here. This one will give you an accurate direction, but only a good estimate of the distance. The new one should be much more accurate in both spheres. With either one, the closer the monitor is to the transmitter, the more accurate they are."

"Okay," Bowman said. "We'd better get busy, we don't have but about four hours before dusk and I don't want to take a chance of findin' my way back here after dark."

Yvonne flashed a determined look. They went together to unload the car. He brought the weapons in first. The small nine millimeter he had requested was there along with two extra clips, a box of cartridges and a shoulder holster. There was also a short-barrel twelve gage shotgun with a pistol grip, leather sling and a box of double aught buckshot shells. Bowman had no experience with a pistol grip shotgun, but it seemed to be just what he needed --- very portable and very forgiving of inaccuracy at close range.

The transmitters were small, about the size of a dime and twice as thick. Arceneaux looked on as Bowman examined them. "The property man told me that once activated they should last for more than thirty days." He looked back over his shoulder at her.

The monitor was similar to a nineteen inch computer screen in appearance, except for the addition of a bar antenna which rotated full circle. Atop the antenna was an adjustable plate which moved full circle and was imprinted with 360 degree markings. Bowman consulted the government charts and made the adjustment to the antenna degree setting. He moved the unit to the end of the kitchen table near a receptacle. It pleased him that the monitor operated off battery or power. He checked the batteries for strength before plugging the unit into an outlet. Yvonne handed him several photocopies of her father's hand drawn charts, one sample the same size as the government chart and a second in which the land area was enlarged. The original of that chart was included in the pile. Bowman laid out the government chart and explained that he would first take the boat and skirt the high ground. He marked and numbered six points. His plan was to activate one of the transmitters and stop at each of the points in sequence to determine the degrees of signal direction to each point and attempt to get some feel for distance. He then read aloud as both studied the manual of instructions for activating the transmitter and operating the monitor.

Bowman then sprayed himself liberally with insect repellent and left the room to pick up a cap. Returning to the kitchen, he heard the outboard motor crank. He rushed to the deck and spotted Yvonne steering the boat slowly down the canal. She turned and held up the can of repellent in one hand and a walkie-talkie in the other, giving a look of triumph before she sped away. Bowman shrugged and returned to the kitchen and switched on the monitor.

She darted in the small boat from one checkpoint to the next, mindful of the idling motor during stops. Bowman's constant admonitions to keep a safe distance from land irked her. She fought an urge to claim a false sighting of 'Big Ugly', but she realized that "Mr. Focus" wouldn't appreciate the humor.

She motored slowly back up the canal. Dusk was in its latter stages and Bowman was sitting at the pier, holding an icy drink aloft. "Very clever, Yvonne. What if you'd run into our friend. There wouldn'tve been a thing in the world I could've done to help you."

"That's stupid, Bowman," Yvonne answered as she retrieved a .38 chiefs' special from under her thigh and returned it to an ankle holster. "You were the one needing experience with the monitor, and I'm the one who knows the swamp. Christ, what a chauvinist!"

She chuckled at the exasperated look on his face.

After returning to the kitchen, she looked on as Bowman studied the government chart depicting an area to the north of where she was occupied earlier. She watched his finger tracing a road heading east northeast through the swamp.

"I was thinkin'," he said. "If I drove that road and stopped at one mile intervals, that might give us a cross reference of sorts."

"I see what you mean, but you'd only get to make one stop. I told you these are outdated charts. When they built the NASA facility, the government claimed a large area of the swamp as a buffer zone. When they did that, they destroyed the span of the bridge across that part of the Pearl River, or maybe it washed out and wasn't replaced. Anyway it's not there anymore. Tell you what I'll do, I'll drive to that point, keep the doors locked and the motor running. I'll stop just long enough so you can get a fix. Then I'll drive back west to that store where 'Big Ugly' broke in. That'll give you two angles. But after that, you're on your own, Hoss."

Before he could answer or object, Yvonne went quickly to her car and left. Turning from the highway to the road, she began to doubt the wisdom of her decision. Dark, desolation and isolation on all sides. A badly cracking blacktop road, large overhanging cypress trees and an increasingly out-of-control imagination.

She rolled up her windows, as if they would provide anything more than momentary protection. That muted the swamp sounds and drew her attention to the thumping of her heart and sucking air. Nothing could be seen outside the path of the headlights. Is there room to turn around at the bridge? She thought. Damn, I can't remember. What if I get stuck. "Don't be an idiot," she said aloud to no one but herself. "It hasn't been raining." Then she thought and answered herself: "It'll still be wet, you're in a swamp, dummy."

Approaching the edge of the bridge she saw areas on either side where she could turn around but both were steep and unpaved. No way I'm leavin' the pavement. She thought. She recalled seeing a more level spot only about fifty feet behind her to the right. The problem was that it was so dark that the tail lights would give relief only if she opened the driver's window and used the left side of the car as a guide. She was not inclined to stick her head out the window. Neither did she like the idea of not being able to see what might be coming up to the right rear of the car. So she stopped and did nothing.

Terror began to take control. She could not go forward. Behind was darkness. She gripped the steering wheel, fighting to control herself. She reacted to the radio only after Bowman's second call. She took three long breaths and held the last one as she grabbed the radio and blurted: "Bowman, I'm at the bridge."

"That much I figured," he answered. "But why the delay. Are you havin' trouble with the car?"

"No, actually, I'm terrified," she said as she began to sob uncontrollably.

"Okay, I'm goin' out the door to my car and I'll be there in no time at all. While I drive, let's just try to talk through this thing. You're goin' to be fine. Your friend is in his den for the night. You're some distance north of him. Okay?"

"Okay," she answered. "Where are you now?"

"I'm just gettin' onto the highway. Is there anywhere to turn around where you are?"

"There's a better place back a few feet."

"Can you see anythin' out the back window?" Bowman asked. She heard the sound of his roaring engine over the radio.

"Nothing but dark," she answered still sobbing, but more in control.

"Okay, put your foot on the brake. Does that help?"

"Some," she answered. "But it's still too dark to see."

"All right, keep your foot on the brake and put the car in reverse. Can you see better now?"

"Yes," she said coming to herself enough to feel embarrassment.

"Okay, then slowly and carefully roll down your left window, keep your foot off the accelerator and try backin'. I'm so close now, I'd be there before anythin' could happen."

"I'm backing. Okay, I'm far enough back to see the turn around. I'm going forward --- Now I'm backing back into the paved road --- Now I'm headed back down the road towards you. Bowman - (silence) - Bowman!" she screamed. "Where are you?"

"I'm at the store on the edge of the road with the motor runnin'."

"Then why did it take so long for you to answer me?" she asked breathlessly.

"To be honest, you startled me and I dropped the mike, but I'm right here and ready to come in if you need me."

"No, I see you. I'm entering the highway right now."

Yvonne drove up quickly and slid her car to a stop alongside his. She jumped out of her car and took the seat next to him. She crossed her arms over her breasts and held her upper arms as she trembled briefly. "Well, I really screwed that up. I've never been so scared in all my life."

"Hey, anyone who's not terrified by this guy isn't thinkin' too clearly."

"You weren't scared."

"No, but I wasn't in the swamp in the dark by myself. Listen, I have the greatest imagination in the world. If I'd been in the same situation, I probably would've been terrified too. Don't kid yourself. If I have to put myself in jeopardy in this thing, I promise you I'll probably be scared to death."

"Yeah, but you wouldn't go crackers and let it stop you. You would do what you had to do, regardless."

"What are you talkin' about. You just did that yourself. I think you're very brave. Now let's finish what we started. You stay right here with the transmitter. As soon as I get back to the cabin, I'll check the monitor an' gage the distance from this point as another cross reference."

"I have a better idea. You stay here and I will go back and check the monitor."

"I've got a problem with that. First off, I made the other distance assessments. For the sake of accuracy, I ought to make this one, also. Then, there's the other consideration..."

"What's that?"

"I left the cabin in a big hurry. My mind was on grabbin' the pistol and gettin' to you as quickly as I could. I left the door to the cabin wide open."

"I've got a good idea. Why don't you go back and check out the cabin and give me a call on the radio when you're ready."

"Yvonne, you know you can be very persuasive."

"Smart ass!" she cracked back.

Once Yvonne returned to the cabin she quickly calmed while drinking a cup of hot chocolate. She did not volunteer to help and took great pleasure in watching Bowman's clumsy attempts at threading a needle. She stifled a chuckle as he, not very deftly, cut away a portion of the stitching on two sides of one of the orange vests. She watched him place an activated transmitter in each of the two slits, then, very carefully and tediously re-stitched them.

She was hoping he would ask her to take over the chore so she could refuse, but he didn't. She had to admit to herself that he had done about as good a job as she could have done, since she wasn't any "great guns" as a seamstress herself. Still, it would have been nice to surprise him with her refusal.