The Codetalkers (The Rebelutionaries Series: Book 2) Read online

Chapter 2

  Change is inevitable. Growth is intentional.

  -Colin Wilson

  There was no reply to my tap on the front door. The muted sound of Stephen Curtis Chapman coming from inside the house suggested Jen and Dave were still awake though.

  I walked around the side of the house homing in on the Echoes of Eden. It seemed to be coming through the sliding glass door near the trampoline, although the curtain made the view opaque. I tugged on the door. It opened. I poked my head inside.

  “Hello?” I called.

  Two heads turned in my direction. Eyes met eyes.

  “I just dropped in to... see... you...”

  Dave and Jen exchanged glances then burst out laughing.

  “Looks like you’ve seen a bit more of us than you bargained on luv!” quipped Dave.

  “Don’t mind him!” giggled Jen. “Hang on a moment. We’ll just find our sarongs.”

  I averted my gaze and tried not to blush as I heard material rustling nearby.

  “Well don’t just stand out there girl. You’re letting in the mozzies.”

  I stepped cautiously inside and slid the door shut behind me.

  “Um... Sorry... I tried the front door but there was no answer... so I came around to the side door... and... um...”

  “...sprung us!” finished Dave light-heartedly.

  They both laughed again. I struggled to comprehend their unexpected responses to my ill-timed intrusion, then drew a steadying breath to control my bounding pulse.

  Come on. You’re Heidi Cannikin. Photo-journalist extraordinaire. You can take this in your stride.

  I glanced back at the exit and tapped my forehead contemplatively. I could feel Jen watching me curiously.

  “That door I just came through... It’s a window!”

  “Yep!” grinned Dave. “But it’s easy to mistake it for a door at night. Back when we had the house built, the local builder left his young offsider on the job and we ended up with a window that doubles as a door because the lad couldn’t read house plans.”

  “I liked our door-window though, so we kept it!” added Jen.

  I smiled faintly and looked around my surroundings to regain my composure. The room was lit by tiny LED bulbs. The light coming from them was maximized by cleverly positioned mirrors. A series of shelves displayed towels... pretty bottles of oil... scented candles... and the double swag which Jen and Dave were still lounging on.

  “This room feels... serene. I like the mood lighting.”

  “Solar charged LEDs, ‘coz we switch the generator off at night,” replied Dave.

  “The massage oil. It smells like the bottle in my room...”

  “Ylang Ylang and lavender... Dave’s favourite blend,” explained Jen.

  I kept talking to push through my awkwardness.

  “I must tell my brother about your B & B. He might like to visit you next time he’s in Australia... He’s into massage and... Christian music...”

  My voice trailed off. I gave up. Dave laughed mischievously.

  “You sound like you’re not sure about saying massage and Christian in the same sentence.”

  “I’ve never really thought it through.”

  My shoulders sagged.

  “The next time I hear Echoes of Eden I’m gonna blush big time.”

  A roguish chuckle.

  “So are you gonna come over and join us?”

  “Join you?”

  “Well you haven’t run off in terror, so part of you must want to join us...”

  “You mean learn some massage strokes off you both?”

  “Well I meant chat actually. But if you’d like to learn some massage strokes off us, the three of us can chat and learn at the same time.”

  Jen threw Dave a sideways glance. She seemed mega-surprised, but smiled reassuringly at me.

  I hesitated.

  “Um... My brother’s taught me a couple of massage strokes. But they’re the relaxing type you do with clothes on. Not the type you guys were doing tous nu...”

  “Tous what?” asked Dave, raising quizzical eyebrows.

  “Um... you know... the married couple ones...”

  I cleared my throat and looked at Jen. She laughed and feigned a swipe at Dave.

  “Dave’s only teasing. He knows you’re politely trying to say you only want to learn massage off us if we all stay fully clothed.”

  “Fair enough about the clothes but let’s drop the French and call a spade a spade, eh?” averred Dave.

  I put on a front of bravery and took several steps closer.

  “I enjoy learning things off older people. I mean, if you just hang out with people your own age, it’s effectively an ersatz maturity. And Dad says it’s normal for the older generation to teach the younger about life... So I guess that includes preparing for marriage classes...”

  I stopped mid-stride and moistened my lips.

  “Keep trying. You’ve nearly talked yourself into joining us!” coaxed Dave.

  I risked eye contact with him.

  “I want to join you both... It’s just that clearly you liked what Jen was doing to you. An awful lot.”

  “You’re supposed to like a massage from your wife!” laughed Dave.

  “I know. But what do I do if you get your erection back while Jen’s teaching me about massage? Do I cover my eyes, or pretend not to notice or look impressed?”

  Dave’s jaw dropped. An unmistakeably readable reaction compared to the rest of his previously unreadable responses. I leapt physically closer to Jen for protection. Jen cracked up and draped a supportive arm around me.

  “Just pretend you haven’t noticed anything if Dave gets another lump under his sarong,” she soothed.

  I nodded like a wide-eyed child.

  Frank’s assignment was shaping up to be an experience of a lifetime...

  Ω

  I sank down on the floor next to Jen and cautiously caught Dave’s eye.

  “Sorry I embarrassed you Dave. I guess that sometimes a spade should be called a bêche after all...”

  I glanced at Jen. Her dancing eyes suggested she was close to losing it.

  “My brother can’t handle me saying the e word either,” I continued straight-faced.

  Dave rubbed his palm across his mouth and made decisive eye contact with me.

  “I can handle it... I just didn’t expect the conversation to get so intense so quickly.”

  “Dave did a great job guiding our three sons into manhood,” elaborated Jen carefully. “But he hasn’t had many frank discussions with young women ‘coz we didn’t have any girls...”

  “Oh. So you didn’t expect me to mention e’s straight off the mark? Like I didn’t expect you to be massaging each other erotically because there was Christian music coming out of the house, right?”

  “Er... yes. Or do I mean no?”

  Dave’s brow wrinkled.

  “Jen, this conversation is doing my head in and it’s hardly started!”

  Jen tried to sound empathetic.

  “Extend yourself love... Just pretend she’s one of our boys.”

  “Oh. I understand. So the e word’s taboo in discussions with girls but not with boys?”

  “Of course the topic’s not taboo just because you’re a girl. It’s just a matter of... commonsense.”

  “So it’s not commonsense to say the e word in preparation for marriage classes?”

  A titter of mirth from Jen.

  “No! That’s not what I mean either. Jen! I’m bogged love. Please help me out here instead of grinning while I grovel!”

  “Dave’s trying to say it’s commonsense to choose who you discuss your personal experiences with,” explained Jen.

  “And sometimes people - particularly Christians - don’t exercise that commonsense... because they’ve got this thing about proving that they’re uninhibited... Instead of just being uninhibited,” resumed Dave.

  “Oh... I get it. You can handle saying the e word. You just don’t want to t
alk about what I saw, which I would never have seen if you and Jen weren’t so uninhibited.”

  Jen collapsed in a fit of the giggles. Dave rubbed his temple and broke into a grin.

  “I give up. Alright. The real reason I’ve been pussyfooting around with you is because a while ago, this bloke I know got snared good and proper by the words of his mouth. He got drawn into a conversation with this widow about parenting and his personal sexual experiences. Except his wife or mates weren’t present. And at the time he didn’t see anything wrong with that... Anyway a few months later, the widow turned around and told the cops that he’d said he had a problem with involuntary erections around kids. Then the bloke dug himself deeper by answering the cops’ questions instead of exercising his right to remain silent. And the cops twisted his honest answers around and used them against him... Then Child Protection stepped in and the mess got even worse. Complete strangers bared his personal sex life to every Tom, Dick and Harry and it cost his family the best part of a year’s income in legal fees to defend himself... He couldn’t teach kids phys-ed any longer or take them camping... He couldn’t even sleep in the same house with his own kids for nearly two years...”

  Jen’s expression suggested they both knew the man Dave was talking about really well. I eyed Dave and nodded my head slowly.

  “Well why didn’t you say that in the first place? Now I understand.”

  I cupped my chin in my palms.

  “Sorry I misunderstood you Dave. I have a habit of honing in on the feelings coming out of a person, rather than the words coming out of their mouth. And ever since I walked in on you, you’ve been exuding this sense of openness and transparency... Like you’ve had years of experience bringing the best out in people... and answering tough questions... and helping people feel relaxed about the things they feel awkward about...”

  Dave and Jen exchanged silent glances. I continued my monologue.

  “You feel like you’re an older, wiser version of my brother... Except you’re more fatherly than brotherly... My dad’s about your age but I’d never ask him about e’s. He’d die of embarrassment if I did... It’s a cultural thing... My brother’s reserved like Dad, but he makes an effort to answer my questions about stuff. Except when it comes to my questions about e’s. A few weeks ago I asked him what an e feels like and he went all red and squirmy and said it was too hard to explain. As if! What’s so wrong about a simple question like that?”

  Dave laughed easily.

  “Is your brother married?”

  “No.”

  “That’s what was wrong with your question. The same question’s not nearly as threatening when you’re married.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well... sometimes when you’re solo there’s a bit of emotional baggage attached to getting aroused - a sense of guilt, even if it happens involuntarily. The thing is, whether you’re solo or married, you can’t stop the birds flying overhead. But you sure can stop them nesting.”

  “Stop them nesting?”

  “You can choose not to continue to be aroused by changing your focus.”

  “But I thought e’s were unstoppable...”

  Dave paused and rubbed his chin contemplatively. Jen laughed deliciously.

  “This conversation has definitely strayed into your area of expertise, Lieutenant Colonel David Hopkins,” she teased.

  Dave’s eyes sparkled.

  “Well... a fella might tell you that if he wants his own way... But if you were petting him in your bedroom and he had an erection, he’d promptly choose to lose it if your mum walked in on you both.”

  I laughed shyly into my hands.

  Learning off Dave was an experience I was never going to forget!

  Ω

  “Most people ache for guilt-free intimacy...” continued Dave.

  “Guilt-free intimacy?” I echoed, moistening my lips.

  Dave moved closer to me.

  “God has designed our memory to record the past Hope. He’s given us a conscience which ties our past actions with our present thoughts and actions. When we intentionally let the birds nest, it leaves a guilt deposit in our conscience...”

  A flood of culpable memories surfaced in response to Dave’s counsel. Half truths I’d told others... lies of omission... deceitful attempts to alleviate my guilty conscience...

  “Guilt short-circuits arousal irrespective of your age or sex Hope. If I’ve responded to something I shouldn’t have - like a woman other than Jen - then my response will be tarnished by guilt. Whereas if I’ve been aroused by something permissible, like Jen’s gentle hands brushing me somewhere nice - well then the arousal heightens and becomes passion... and then passion heightens and becomes intimacy... And the physical response I enjoyed at a soul level then becomes spiritual. And Jen and I know we’re one... We sense that oneness. And enjoy it immensely.”

  Dave paused and kissed Jen. Not some peck on the cheek gesture - it was damp and clearly wow for them both. I felt fascinated by the depth of their relationship.

  “I call it an echo of Eden. Because as good as the orgasm and the afterglow is - and it’s pretty good - it reminds me that what I’m experiencing is nowhere near as good as God intended it to feel, thanks to Adam’s stuff up back at Eden. And it also reminds me, that the God who created me desires to be intimate with me. Like He was in Eden with my ancestor Adam before the fall.”

  “So if it’s like that with you, then it’s like that with my brother... Now I understand why he mightn’t want to talk about his e’s.”

  Dave looked at me with fatherly eyes.

  “Next time you see him you’ll have to straighten out his ideas, eh? A lot of young men feel guilty about the birds flying over...”

  “...when the real issue is whether they let them nest... Hey Dave, you’ve shared some pretty personal stuff. You aren’t regretting it, are you?”

  “No. I’m feeling intrigued to tell you the truth. The way you’ve responded is completely different to the last young guest that sprung us...”

  “You’ve been caught out by another guest?”

  “Ah ha. Out on our tramp.”

  “Outside?” I gasped. “Were you... um... you know... like tonight?”

  “Hey, don’t you go all evasive and tongue-tied now after putting me through that!” complained Dave light-heartedly.

  I laughed and flung my hair back the way my mother did to help me regain my poise. Jen eyed me curiously.

  “So was the guest a man or a woman?” I probed breathlessly.

  “He was a single guy. A professor actually.”

  I moved closer to Dave. He made no attempt to distance himself.

  “Tell me the whole story!” I coaxed.

  “Well... the night started out innocent enough... Jen and I were just lying outside on the tramp together looking up at the stars... then Jen’s hands wandered a little and one thing led to another and we stripped off... then next thing we knew we’d been caught out... And yes, the full moon was bright enough to see rude parts behaving like they were designed to do. There... is that frank enough so you don’t have to ask me twenty questions to extract the story out of me?”

  I covered my mouth to trap my laughter and looked at Jen.

  “But in our defence it was after midnight when we were caught out!” laughed Jen. “And we thought all of our guests were dead to the world.”

  “And they all were... Except for the Professor!” resumed Dave. “He thought one of his students was responsible for the noises we were making and crept over to investigate which student was under the wriggling sheet... The look on his face when he discovered he’d sprung us not one of his charges. It took quite a bit of coercion on our part to settle him down...”

  I laughed and sank down on their swag. Mirroring their relaxed postures.

  “And then what happened?”

  “Well - Dave ended up giving the Professor some massage tips for couples,” smiled Jen.

  “Mind you it took him a who
le week of getting to know me before he was game enough to let me teach him anything!” chuckled Dave.

  “I think Maya gave him courage,” giggled Jen.

  My heart skipped a beat at the mention of Maya’s name.

  “Maya Gregory the photo-journalist?”

  “A friend of yours?”

  “We’ve co-written a couple of articles. I haven’t caught up with her for ages though.”

  “Well next time you do, it might be at her wedding!” grinned Dave. “That pair are a match made in heaven if I ever saw one...”

  “How romantic! I must tell my brother about your B & B... I reckon he’d really hit it off with you Dave. You’re so much like him...”

  Ω

  “Rad! Check out what I slept on last night Zac!” said Jake excitedly. “Look at the amazing colours in it... Just think... eons ago, this little twig was alive and now it’s a beautiful rock.”

  Zac handed Maya a mug of black coffee. Maya sipped on it, savouring the kick-start.

  “Well it was alive once and it’s semi-petrified now, but as a scientist you should think about revising the eons bit.”

  “Why?”

  “I was reading an on-line journal before we left. Some Japanese researchers published their findings recently... they’ve discovered that wood which is immersed in the thermal springs here at Yellowstone Park can become petrified after just a few months... So your little twig might have been growing on that tree over there last year...”

  “Months? I don’t get it. How?”

  “Well apparently hot water from the thermal springs carries its silica into the wood and replaces the woody tissues, from the inside out...”

  “Like what happens in the hot water pipes in old houses?” asked Maya from behind her mug.

  “Similar... But the pipes don’t have to be old. There’s this hotel in Alaska - they advertise it as having a natural thermal hot tub to draw tourists. The maintenance guy showed me the feed pipe one time. He has to replace it several times a year. The interior diameter of the pipe reduces from six inches down to an inch in just a few months. And the sediment build-up is as hard as rock. He can’t crack it off. So he just keeps replacing the pipe...”

  Ω

  Jen taught me some strokes to use on my future husband and we both practiced them on Dave. Which was embarrassingly educational. Then Dave taught me some strokes on Jen, to pass onto my future husband. Which was enjoyably educational. Then Dave figured he might as well show me what the strokes felt like while Jen chaperoned us. Which was embarrassingly enjoyable and educational...

  I left Dave and Jen’s place feeling like I’d known them for years not hours. I slept soundly in my room until next morning when the station generator kicked in. I dragged myself out to the kitchen, intending to make my first caffeine fix for the day.

  As I waited for the coffee machine to crank up, the fax machine spat out a printout. The page landed on the floor temptingly near my feet. I picked it up and skimmed its contents.

  Serendipity had landed one of those enticing leads to a scoop at my feet and I couldn’t resist the temptation. I scuttled back to my bedroom and looked around for somewhere to hide the document.

  Missy looked up at me with wide blue eyes and mewed. I glanced at the leather collar Dave had given me for her then started rolling the fax tightly around my pencil...

  People will hate you, rate you, shake you and break you.

  But how strong you stand is what makes you.

  -Unknown

  I could hear the men moving around in the kitchen area. I hurriedly packed up my belongings and started loading them into Pegasus. Their eyes followed me out. I walked back in to retrieve the rest of my things. This time they followed me out. I could sense them watching me but elected to ignore them. I tried to make out what they were saying as I loaded Pegasus.

  “Deal with her car,” I heard Mr Laconic say.

  His offsider walked off towards Dave’s shed. I was going to have to leave quickly, before they did something to Pegasus!

  I reflected on my on-the-spur-of-the-moment decision to swipe their fax. It had been a mistake. A bubble of regret lodged itself in my throat.

  Memo to self. Next time, photograph secret documents that fax machines spit out at you instead of swiping them. Like on Hogan’s Heroes...

  I sensed the mood of the men as I walked back inside. There was a chance that things might turn nasty. There was no way I could take on two beefy blokes and Dave and Jen might get hurt. The only thing to do was to lead them away from Dave and Jen’s B & B. And hopefully lose them.

  I strode back to my room and scribbled a farewell note to Dave and Jen. Another pang of regret at not being able to say goodbye properly. Never mind... I’d email them and explain what had happened when I could. I put a tip on top of the note, then placed Dave’s bottle of blended oil over it.

  The front door slammed. Footsteps. I opened my bedroom door. Mr Laconic almost fell through it. I casually stepped around him.

  Strewn paper on the table. They’d obviously noticed the missing fax I had in my possession. My eyes fell on the biscuit tin. I remembered Dave’s lack of response to the other tin, and decided to take a leaf out of his book.

  Ω

  Acting as cool as a cucumber around someone who looked like he wanted to snap me in half was challenging. Especially since I hadn’t even had my first coffee. I opted to make myself a caffeine fix and breakfast on biscuits. As I swallowed the first mouthful I realized it’d been years since I’d eaten biscuits. Or had breakfast...

  Silence.

  His offsider walked in. A chemical smell wafted in with him. Paint thinners?

  “Morning,” I said melodiously. “Are you guys leaving today too?”

  Blank, militant stares

  “Where is it?”

  His tone resembled a growl. I paused mid cookie crunch.

  “Where’s what?”

  I went back to munching.

  Eyes narrowed. A huge forearm reached forward and swept my coffee and the tin of biscuits off the table and onto the floor. I didn’t have to feign my indignation.

  “You know, you’re very rude! If I wasn’t planning on leaving today anyway, I would be complaining to the management about you!”

  A meow from Missy near my door. The perfect excuse to make an exit. I scooped up Missy then walked swiftly into my room, locking the door behind me. They started to shoulder the door. I grabbed my handbag and fled out the glass sliding door.