The Pattern
Page 22
“Who says I don’t want to talk about it?”
“Do you?”
“Not really.”
“Like I said, if you don’t want to talk about it.”
#
“Did you see Tim?” Jane asked.
“Yep. He was parked on the same stool as always.”
“Is he a drunk?”
“No. I’ve only ever seen him have one or two beers.”
“So why does he spend all that time in the bar?”
“I don’t know.”
“He’s kind of a strange one,” Jane said.
“He is unique.”
“Unique is one word for it. You know what I’ve been wondering?”
“What?”
“Why is he helping out on the virus? Didn’t you say that you really hardly knew him? Doesn’t it seem odd?”
“Why does everyone keep asking me that?”
#
“I think I’m about done,” Craig said.
“Do you think or do you know?” Jane asked.
“I can imagine what it’s like being a student in your lab,” Craig said.
“Oh you have no idea,” Jane answered.
“I know I’m about done,” Craig said. “It’s surprising how well my research and yours mesh. We could have made quite a team.”
“Could have?” Jane asked.
Craig paused.
“Wait. What’d I say? Did I say that or just think that?” Craig asked.
“You said it because you were thinking it. Now let me see that code.”
Chapter
September 1st, 1994
San Francisco, California
“I’ll bet Rakesh would know how to solve this,” Craig said.
“Rakesh?” Jane asked.
“He’s a friend of ours. Of mine. He was a friend of Stacey,” Craig said.
“Oh,” Jane said.
Craig sat down at the computer and quickly typed out an email.
The auto-reply was almost immediate.
To: Craig@baynet.org
From: RAKESH@SFSECUR.COM
Re: Auto-reply
I will be at Lynn Fucentese climbing camp in Yosemite Valley from August 25th to September 5th. I am on vacation without my cell phone. Please consider me practically unreachable. For a technical emergency, please contact my colleague Clifford Franklin.
“He’s on vacation,” Craig said.
“Oh,” Jane answered.
“Ever been to Yosemite?” Craig asked.
“Nope.”
“Want to go?”
“Road trip,” Jane answered.
#
“Are there any roads in California that don’t scare the bejesus out of you?” Jane asked. They had been traveling up, around, down, and over ridgeline after ridgeline for the past hour as they approached Yosemite. Craig did not point out that the first three hours of the drive had been straight and flat on Interstate and good state routes. For he too had forgotten the early passage, becoming completely absorbed by the ever higher peaks that grew around them and the impossibly twisty roads that traversed them.
“I think we’re almost there,” Craig said for the tenth time.
“Over a million people visit here each year and this is the only road,” Jane said. “Can you imagine getting stuck behind a camper coming up here?”
Craig winced at the thought.
#
They coasted to a halt at the entrance to the park. Early evening sun picked its way through towering evergreens, casting long shadows on the narrow road ahead.
“It’s seventeen miles up to Yosemite Valley. Please be careful driving. There’s been some rock fall recently,” the National Park Service Ranger said.
“May I have a map?” Craig asked.
“Yes you may,” the ranger answered, handing one over.
Craig passed it to Jane who opened and refolded it.
“This park is huge,” Jane said.
“Any idea where the Lynn Fucentese climbing people are camped?” Craig asked the ranger.
“No sir. But if they’re rock climbers, I’d start looking for them by visiting Camp Four and asking around.”
Jane quickly located the one time center of the climbing universe on the map.
“That way,” she pointed.
#
The drive to Yosemite Valley cannot be described, it can only be experienced. Sheer gray granite cliffs tower over the frothy white water of the Merced River. Thousand foot waterfalls cascade off the granite sending veils of mist floating down to the valley floor. Elk nibble grass in meadows so beautiful you wonder how anyone can possibly ever leave this place.
Craig and Jane stood slack-jawed in El Cap Meadows, gaping at the towering monolith that is El Capitan. A short ways away a lean, tanned man with crazy blond dreadlocks was alternating looking into a camera and a telescope. Craig took Jane’s hand, moved slightly closer to her, and gently hugged her to him. Neither had spoken in minutes.
“Well I guess the drive was worth it,” Jane said.
“I guess so,” Craig answered. He hugged her a little more tightly. Together they watched a mother elk and her calf sample the late summer grass.
“I want to take a picture,” Jane said. “We didn’t get any pictures from Stinson Beach.” She pulled a disposable camera from her pocket and stepped back from Craig. She lined him up, and turned his profile to catch the last of the evening sun.
“Nice composition,” the blonde man said.
“Thanks,” Jane answered.
“Want one with both of you?” he asked.
“Sure,” she answered. She handed over her camera.
Raw energy and depth and breadth of peace that can only come from a physical life lived outdoors radiated from the man. She scrutinized him for a moment then slowly walked over to Craig.
#
“So what are you filming?” Craig asked.
“My friend Lynn is guiding a climber on one of the easier routes on El Cap,” he answered.
“Lynn Fucentese?” Jane asked.
“You know her?” the blonde man asked.
“No, but we’ve come looking for one of her campers.”
“What’s his name?”
“Rakesh.”
“Well then you are in luck.” The blonde man motioned them towards the telescope. Lynn is the speck with the white helmet. Rakesh is the speck with the orange helmet.” The evening sun was still bright on the cliff as the meadow passed suddenly into shadow. Jane shivered. The blonde man handed her a fleece vest.
#
“Rakesh I couldn’t believe it when I saw you up there. You were so far up,” Jane said.
“I couldn’t believe it when I saw Craig sitting there when I walked into camp,” Rakesh answered. Craig, Jane, Rakesh, the blonde man (who they learned had a name – Jim) and several other campers were seated around a cozy campfire. Down jackets and knit caps had appeared, mittens and gloves were moments from being donned. The late summer evening had cooled quickly. Craig motioned to Rakesh and the two walked away from the fire.
“You’ll be alright here alone for a few minutes?” Craig asked Jane.
“Yes. And I’m hardly alone.”
#
“So what are you doing here and who is Jane?” Rakesh asked Craig.
“I’m here because I got your email auto reply and wanted to talk to you about something right away. Jane is a biologist who is helping me solve a problem with Marauder.”
“A biologist? She isn’t from Seattle is she?” Rakesh asked.
“Yeah. How’d you know?”
“Stacey said you had a girlfriend in Seattle.”
Craig started to speak and stopped. The sound of Stacey’s name struck him a blow.
“Sorry,” Rakesh offered.
“No. It’s alright. I only think about her all the time. But then I realized I hadn’t thought about her all day.”
“Sorry,” Rakesh repeated.
“So when did Stacey tell
you that I had a girlfriend in Seattle?” Craig asked.
“In England. When we went climbing…”
“In England?”
“Yeah.”
“You saw Stacey in England? You went climbing?”
“Yeah.”
“When?”
“In May.”
“You saw Stacey in England? In May? She didn’t mention it. You never mentioned it. Something I should know?”
“Craig. It wasn’t like that. Neither of us knew the other was going to be there. We literally ran into each other in London. She had just bought a rock climbing guide to Gritstone East. She showed it to me, insulted me and my abilities, and then we decided to hit the rock for a weekend. Believe me, after working me on the rock all day there wasn’t anything going to happen anyway.”
Craig stared in the dark at his friend. He simply could not get his arms around the fact the Rakesh and Stacey had been together in England in May.
“So is there anything else you want to tell me?” Craig asked.
“Like what?”
“Like you won the lotto, or married a Spice Girl, or invented the optical transistor, or have an extra terrestrial stashed in your tent, or something that I would have thought more likely than you saw Stacey in England,” Craig said.
“No. Not really. But I can’t believe she never mentioned it. Especially because we spent so much time talking about you and your mysterious programmer friend and your code problem.”
“You talked about Marauder?”
“Sure. She said you were spending all your time trying to figure out what was wrong with it and trying to beat it and everything. She said you were spending a lot of time hanging out with your “boyfriend” at the bar.”
“So she thought I had a boyfriend and a girlfriend?” Craig asked.
“Craig. Come on. She was jealous of the guy. And who wouldn’t be.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“She said you were friends with Tim Ford.”
“Yeah. So. What’s the big deal about some burnout in a bar. He used to be a programmer, and a pretty good one, but that’s about it. And how’d you know his name. I don’t think she ever met him but maybe once at a baseball game.”
“She met him another time. Said she went down to the bar one time to ‘check out the competition’. And unlike you, obviously, she checked up on him. You know how there were like a dozen guys who invented everything in the seventies and eighties right? Gates, Jobs, Allen, Wozniak, Kernighan, Ritchie, you know, those guys?”
“Yeah.”
“Tim Ford was part of that crowd. But he was better than any of them. He coded some insane stuff and then just kind of disappeared. Urban legend has it he’s worth about a billion dollars and wrote the internals for practically every operating system back them. Then he disappeared and started writing video games. You’re telling me you didn’t know?”
“Apparently there’s a lot I don’t know,” Craig said.
#
“So where did you two homos go?” Jane asked.
“Just talking,” Rakesh answered.
“Right,” Jane said. “Craig you’ve got to hear what they’re going to do tomorrow. Lynn and one of her guides are going to try the first female free ascent of, what was it Jim? Leaning Tower?”
“Yeah. Leaning Tower. It’s totally sick.”
“Can we watch?” Jane asked.
“Sure,” Jim said.
“I’ll set you up with the telescope.”
Chapter
September 5, 1994
Yosemite, California
“So you’re really going to go back and leave Jane here?” Rakesh asked.
“She said she wants to stay. And Jim said he’d get he back to town.”
“You trust her around this crowd?”
“Yes. But, she’s not mine to trust you know. She’s a grown woman, and it’s not like we’re an item or anything.”
“But what about Muir Woods? Stinson Beach? That sounds like ‘an item’ to me.”
“Maybe. But she wants to stay. What can I do?”
“You can stay. Or ask her to go back with you.”
“Can’t. Lame.”
“Okay. Then you could at least look like you care whether she stays.”
#
Jim and Jane were poised over a Scrabble table perched on an ancient picnic table. A gas lantern hissed in the cool valley air and threw a pleasant glow onto the tiles.
“You guys must have a great relationship for him to let you stay here,” Jim asked Jane.
“Or... maybe he’s not interested in me at all, or having second thoughts about what happened at the beach,” Jane said.
Jim moved his Scrabble tiles left to right.
“I mean. I know he was hurt. I might be one of the only people who knows how bad he was hurt. But that’s not an excuse to be so indifferent.”
Jim moved his Scrabble tiles right to left.
“It’s only been a couple of months. But still. I thought we made a connection. We’ve been practically living together for the past two weeks.”
Jim picked a tile from the middle, slid the remaining tiles together.
“I think we might be good for each other. I might be good for him. He might be good for me. We might be good together. I’ll have to ask him what his intentions are when I get back.”
Jim lifted six tiles and built a simple word that matched with three earlier simple words he’d built and that included double letter and triple word scores. Jane added up his score and regarded him carefully.
“You’re pretty good at this,” Jane said.
Jim nodded.
“And you’re a good listener,” she added, her gaze finding and then fixing his.
“Thanks,” he said.
“So what do you think?” Jane asked.
“About?” Jim answered.
“About Craig and me.”
“I think that if he doesn’t give you a satisfactory answer when you call him tomorrow that you should come spend some time in Colorado and give me a chance to get to know you better,” Jim said.
Jane blushed, held his gaze another moment and then looked to the board.
Jim reached into the purple velvet tile sack and picked out six new tiles.
#
“Did you have a good time playing Scrabble with Jim?” Lynn asked.
“He’s quite good at it,” Jane said.
“He won the United States championship three times and the world championship once,” Lynn said.
“I didn’t even know they had such championships,” Jane said.
Lynn nodded her head.
“So tell me about the leaning tower,” Jane said.
“It’s something I’ve wanted to do for a while.”
“Is it dangerous?” Jane asked.
“A little,” Lynn answered.
“What do you think about when you’re up there?” Jane asked.
Lynn paused. She looked into the fire. “You’re the first person who has ever asked me that,” Lynn said.
Jane looked into the fire, and then back at Lynn. She waited.
“Mostly I don’t think. I just am. The rock is like a big riddle, and a canvas, and a challenge all at once. When I’m getting ready sometimes I think about climbs I’ve done, or people I’ve known, or about a mosquito that just bit me. But then slowly the focus starts to come. Paths through the riddle, pictures to paint on the canvas, motions to make, and motions not to make start to arrive. And then I start to move. When I’m moving well it’s like everything else just drops away. I’m in a clean place with an objective goal. I know the mental and physical tools required to face the goal are at my disposal, and I deal with marshalling them and applying them to the goal at hand. So, when I’m up there I’m usually not thinking about too much except being up there. Funny thing is, when I’m down here, I spend most of my time thinking about being up there.”
Jane caught Lynn’s eye for a moment, then look
ed into the fire, and absorbed some of the peace that flowed from the tiny person across from her.
Chapter
September 5, 1994
San Francisco, California
Craig stormed into the bar, the mud of Camp Four still clinging to his boots.
“Were you ever going to tell me?” Craig asked.
“Tell you what?” Tim asked.
“Tim, no more bullshit. I know you wrote it.”
Tim hung his head, then slowly lifted it and looked at Craig.
“I wanted to tell you. Even before Stacey,… before Stacey died. I couldn’t.”
“All this time, that’s why you’ve been helping? Because you felt responsible?”
“I sold it to some company. I had no idea it was going to be successful. It was just a goof I programmed when I was learning about objects. I didn’t know what was going to happen. Who knew? And then you started freaking out. I felt like I had to do something.”
“Have you still got the source?” Craig asked coldly.
“No.”
“Can you get it?”
“No.”
“Then we’re still stuck on that last problem. Right back where we were,” Craig said.
“No. I know what’s in the last two percent.”
“How?”
“Cause I bought a copy. Just like you. I figured out what was missing.”
Craig’s mind got wrapped all the way around what Tim was telling him and what Rakesh had been trying to tell him. His eyes narrowed and he took a step away from the older programmer.
“When?”
“In July.”
“So you knew. The entire time you knew. You make me sick.”
“Craig everything was fucked up. I wanted to tell you. I meant to tell you. And I couldn’t. But where have I been every day since then? I’ve been here helping you. Don’t you think I feel as bad as you do? Worse?”
"No."
"Come on."
"No way."
"I'm sorry."
"That's not good enough. It can't be. Stacey didn't die in your arms."
Tim fell silent. Craig fell silent too. The distance between them grew from a crevasse into a chasm and threatened to swallow them both. Tim continued silent. Craig stared at him. Wanted to hurt him.
“You’re not so smart,” Craig said.
“What?”