Under the Pond

1991

The winds were strong enough to take down brick homes and lift aluminum ones off the ground. Ryder Thorne dozed through it all.

A duffle bag sat at the foot of his bed where he dropped it after arriving home from the desert. His shoulder still ached, as he suspected it would forever and bank notices piled on the kitchen table next to dusty tomes of American literature. Since coming back, the farmhouse seemed smaller, even without his father. Pictures of parents on the wall reminded him of his father’s wisdom and a mother who never made it out of childbirth.

The dreams came and went, but always began the same, with the roar of a dragon and his body shaken to his core, fighting to climb out of an iron beast, before he was swallowed in flames.

Ryder jerked awake to the crack of thunder and knocked over his prescription bottles. The house moved from side to side and the roof buffeted.He wondered if it would let loose and decided he didn’t care, as he lay back in tangled sheets. Closing his eyes, he knew where his dream would go next, and he let it. The ground rumbled under his feet. Flashes of light burned his eyes.

But this time, the dreams took a detour. The sounds of wolves baying and images of leviathans churned the depths.

***

The smell of bacon woke him.Ryder dressed and followed the scent, using the wall to steady himself. The boy was standing on a box, scrambling eggs and turning the bacon.The coffee was heated and on the back burner.

“You slept late.”

“It’s eight,” said Ryder, glancing at the clock and wiping the goop from his eyes.

“My mother’s been at work since six. She said to make sure you were up, so I’m making sure you’re up. You up?”

Ryder poured a cup of coffee. This had become their morning ritual. He pulled the aspirin from the cupboard and crushed two into his coffee.

The boy glanced at him, wanting to say something, but thought better of it.

“Old man Collins passed me when I was walking up. Didn’t slow or nothing, man, just blew up dust from that new truck of his. He drives like he knows he’s the richest man in town.”

Great, Ryder thought, but glad he missed the man. The whole town knew there was blood in the water.

“When does school start up, Santiago?”

“I want to work with you.You know, get the farm back up and running.”

“That’s probably not going to happen,” Ryder said under his breath. “Not this season, anyway.”

The boy frowned but handed Ryder a tortilla with bacon and eggs. “I don’t need school. What did it ever do for my mother, she’s a janitor.”

Ryder sighed.

The breakfast and lunch on the counter had become routine. Sometimes it was the boy and sometimes it was the boy’s mother who had taken on the role of patron saint. Ryder took the boy’s comment as an opportunity to leave. He shut the screen door and said, “Your mother’s the smartest person I know. Later, Santiago.”

The morning was crisp but would be brutal in a few hours. Ryder’s worst fear was the pond had overflowed, half expecting the water to be up to the porch. It was possible and had happened before. His father used to scare him about the pond and the beast hiding under the waves. “Why is there a monster in the pond,” Ryder remembered asking.

“You mean Flint,” his father said.

“That’s not a monster’s name,” the boy said.

The gray bearded man thought about it, rubbing his cheek. “That’s true,” he said. “But sometime a name tells you more than you might think.”

The damage was less than expected, but enough to keep him busy for weeks. What he had not anticipated was the condition of the pond.Ryder stood at the ledge, wondering if he was still under the influence of his pills, trying to comprehend what he was seeing.

Instead of overflowing banks, the pond water had drained leaving a crater of mud, deep enough to bury a train. The dam had collapsed from the wind and the water drained into miles of empty pasture, all the way to the Canadian.

Ryder slid down the bank and sank ankle deep in the mud, amid dead fish and pond debris. The mud smelled of rotting flesh and stagnant water.His fingertips tingled and he had a buzz in his head. He felt like a time traveler who dropped into another country during another era, in someone else’s war. He stared at that which shouldn’t be there.

It was big, like a steel wall with rounded edges, exploding from the mud. The tower was only half buried, but still twice his height.

Ryder stepped closer, palming the steel to prove to himself he wasn’t seeing things. The rivets and sheet metal were unmistakable and manmade.

Ryder scratched his head staring at the conning tower of a submarine, five hundred miles from the nearest coast. Even more perplexing was the faded outline of a swastika.

“Flint,” he said.

***

Valentina got her lunch break at noon and Ryder was waiting for her in the park across from the library.She ate lunch here and fed the ducks with her leftover bread.

She waved when she saw Ryder sitting on the bench.

“You don’t need to keep sending Santiago to the house every day,” he said.

“I know, but we worry about you.”

Ryder shook his head.

“Besides,” Valentina said, “keeps him out of trouble and you know how he looks up to you.”

Valentina tore her sandwich and gave half to Ryder. “Eat, you’re not getting enough food,” she said.

Valentina wore the blue smock of a janitor. She worked the day shift cleaning the library and waitressed at night to make ends meet for her and Santiago. Ryder had known her since grade school, one of the few Hispanics who made it all the way to graduation. She truly was the smartest person he knew.

“I need your help.”

Valentina brushed the golden bangs from his forehead and lingered on his eyes.

“Math,” she asked.

“Cute,” he said. Pulling her hand from his forehead. He started, then stopped, trying to find rhythm in telling the story of finding a submarine in his pond.

Valentina sat in silence, her head askew, watching Ryder.

“You think I’m crazy, right?”

“Nope, just wishing you found buried gold, instead of a metal fish.”

“Gold would’ve been nice,” he said.

“Your father knew.”

“Yes,” he said. “Had to.”

“So, how would a submarine from Germany find its way to Oklahoma pastureland,” she said. Lunch now forgotten about. “And how was your father involved?”

“No idea,” he said.

“Was the farm passed down to your parents,” she asked.

“My mom wasn’t from around here and I think they bought it when they were young. I came late you know.”

Valentina’s eyes lit up.“You remember when we were kids and your father would scare us about the monster in the pond?”

“Of course, Flint.”

Valentina bit her lip, pondering the challenge. A look Ryder remembered when she worked a tough math problem that left the rest of class stumped.

“I’ll do some research before I leave. Can I come by tonight after the Waldorf?”

Ryder knew she meant after her second job. The Waldorf was the only diner in town. He smiled every time he heard the name, a small town trying to be big city. He’d worked there himself as a teenager. All the old men who ran the town had met there, including his dad, before he passed. They had their own table and were treated like royalty.

“Just call,” he said.

Without answering, she said, “You’re not going to do anything stupid, right? Like try to go in that thing.”

Ryder shrugged, “Of course not.”

***

Valentina tossed her lunch to the ducks, not even bothering to finish her half of the sandwich and ran back to the library. She knew she had screwed up when she brushed the hair from his eyes. It wasn’t meant to be, and she was going to make herself accept it. If not today, then soon. For the next few hours, in between cleaning toilets and mopping, she worked the micro fiche reader. Mind numbing and took her mind off Ryder.

She had an idea. It was preposterous she knew, but Ryder’s farm had the Canadian River on its southern boundary. She knew the pond well and guessed it was no more than a quarter mile from the river and the Canadian eventually made it to the Mississippi, somewhere down south, or east? So, it was possible, just maybe.

Oklahoma Monsoon…1942

Oklahoma’s Own Fifth Column…1943

Valentina knew the term, fifth column, from her spy books and knew it referred to spies on the home front, but it was the next headline that made her look twice.

FBI Captures German Network of Girl Spies…1943

She felt she was getting somewhere, a tinge of excitement, but not enough to connect any dots.Before she could swap out another year of headlines, she heard a woman’s throat clearing behind her.

“Valentina, we’re closing early.”

It was her boss and she had been caught and not for the first time. Valentina bowed her head, suddenly worried about her job.

“The radio said more storms coming in tonight and might be worse than yesterday. Suggest you finish up whatever you have going.” The woman winked. “So, lets batten down the hatches and get home before it gets too bad.”

Valentina took a deep breath and mouthed, thank you.

As the woman turned to walk away, she had a thought. Just an inkling, but something clicked in the woman’s comments.

***

The need to leave the sub alone crossed his mind. Looking down, he saw only a ladder dropping into a black hole.

Flint, he thought.What were you hiding, Dad?

“Hello,” he shouted, knowing he sounded ridiculous. His voice echoed back, faint and hollow.

At the base of the ladder, he had two options, forward and aft and had no idea which was which. As he walked, the light from the open hatch dissipated and he turned on the flashlight. Its beam of light shone bright in the tight quarters as he meandered the aisleway He felt like he was in a museum after hours, trying to avoid a security guard. Other than the fact the sub leaned slightly, the interior was in good condition. There were no bodies.

He came to what he knew was the torpedo room. The long cylinders still hung from their chains. Along the rounded walls were bunks suspended in the air for the men to sleep in.

He kept his head bowed to avoid hitting pipes snaking along the ceiling and turned around to head the other direction, his shoulders touching the sides of the passage. The wind found its way down the conning tower causing Ryder to shiver.

Ryder moved down the aisle using his flashlight. On his left, a curtain. Probably the only private cabin on the sub. What Ryder really wanted was the Ship’s Log. Something that explained how this beast ended up on his farm.

The room was small, barely larger than a phone booth. There was a bunk and a small built in writing desk. The walls had framed photos of young men in a group photo. A porcelain coffee cup sat on the desk next to a leather bound book.

Ryder picked up the book and examined the spine. Squinting, he tried to make sense of what he was reading.

“Robert Louis Stevenson,” he said.

The sub grew smaller.The wind found its way through the narrow aisles, billowing the curtain. He dropped the book and grabbed the photo from the wall. His eyes looked from face to face. They were all young, and yet familiar. His mind raced with a high pitch wailing.

“White man, you in there?”

Ryder flinched. The wailing didn’t go away. He heard clanging from the conning tower.

“Ryder,” the voice called urgently.

It was Santiago.Ryder left the tight quarters and looked up the tower ladder. The boy’s hair was billowing in the wind. Lightning flashed overhead. He realized the wailing was the tornado siren.The sub’s tower was a lightning rod and the boy stood on top of it.

“Get down here,” Ryder shouted.

“We gotta go, white man.There’s a tornado comin’.”

Ryder took the ladder two rungs at a time and lifted the boy to his shoulder. He pulled the door tight and hurried below.

Before stepping from the last rung, the tower shook and Ryder felt the jolt through his fingers, like touching a bare wire loaded with current. His body spasmed and Santiago cried out. Both fell in a heap on the floor.

They were under fire.The pinging of bullets on the tank’s iron shell caused him to roll into a ball. Inside, it was black. The smoke was so dense he couldn’t see.

“Sergeant,” he cried.

He felt the tank take a direct hit and the crew needed to evac. His head pounded and his arms felt aflame.

“Ryder, wake up man. This thing is coming apart.”

Ryder opened his eyes. The boy was attempting to pull him by his feet down the passage. Above him, the conning tower shook, the ladder had detached and rippled in the air. The tower’s iron sides were tearing at the seams and one by one were sucked into the sky.

Ryder fought to get to his feet, knowing the tornado was above them. It was the opposite of a windstorm, it was a vacuum. Once the conning tower was gone, they would be sucked out. Santiago’s feet were lifting from the floor. Ryder cradled the boy and forced his way forward, down the passage, pulling both of them with every handhold he could reach. The sub rocked, its iron creaking, then the roar of the dragon as Ryder knew the conning tower had blown off. Anything not secured, blew through the sub, like bullets on a firing range.

He had seen it earlier and knew it would be the safest place in this vacuum.He spun the lever on the torpedo tube door and swung it wide. As Ryder pushed the boy in, he could feel the resistance. The tube was already occupied, gold coins glittered in the beam of his flashlight. There wasn’t enough room for both man and boy. Ryder wrestled the boy in and slammed the tube door, muffling Santiago’s screaming.

Ryder felt the suction lift his feet from the floor. There was acceptance, the dragon was going to get him this time. Holding on to the door’s handle, he thought of his dad and wondered who the man really was, and that he would soon have the opportunity to ask him. As his fingers lost their grip, he thought of Valentina, and what should have been.

***

Six months later…

Valentina sat on the wicker chair and spread out the file folder of newspaper cutouts on the

Porch table. She had a smear on her cheek, and her jeans were stained in white paint.

The bus pulled to a stop at the end of the drive and Santiago stepped off with his book bag.

“Hey mom.”

“Hey yourself,” said Valentina. The boy had a grin, like he had something to say, but was holding back.

“Where’s the white man?”

Valentina frowned.

“Alright, Ryder,” he said, rolling his eyes and then gave his mom a kiss on the cheek.

“That’s better,” she said. “He’s out back. He and your grandpa are putting the new tractor to use.”

Santiago smiled at this, dropped his book bag on the porch and ran through the front door. Valentina knew the boy would be begging to drive it. And of course, Ryder would let him.

Since quitting both jobs, she had more time on her hands. The winter had been nice, and peaceful. And a time for healing. Now it was time to plant the crops, and fourteen hour days would start. Valentina smiled at that.

Ryder’s physical healing had been slow. A concussion and more broken bones than not. After the hospital stay, Valentina and Santiago had moved in to provide full time care, and weeks turned into months. Money had become a moot point. Flint had provided.

Even six months later, there were more questions than answers, but she had pieced most of it together through news clips, county deeds and the accounting books at the Waldorf. Perhaps the German crew grounded the sub or got lost travelling up the Mississippi, who knew decades later. German infiltration of the US was common, and it was known they carried gold to barter.

At first, Valentina recognized all but one in the sub’s crew picture. The young men had become the town’s elders. That last individual had mystified her. More boy than man, almost feminine, but wearing the same uniform and Navy side cap as the crew.

After pulling Ryder’s family albums from the attic, she knew for sure.No, his father had not been on the submarine, but his mother certainly had, as a spy sent into enemy territory.

“Should I get started with dinner?”

Valentina started, not realizing Ryder was watching her. His cheeks had color and he was filling out again, standing taller.

“I’ll help,” she said. “German, again?”

“Uhm, no. How about menudo?”

Before stepping inside, Ryder leaned down and gave Valentina a kiss on the cheek. “Let’s put that stuff away,” nodding at the folder.

“Don’t you want to know,” she said.

Ryder nodded his head no.

In that moment, Valentina decided she wasn’t going to push it. Life had become wonderful in the last few months, and she knew some mysteries weren’t worth solving.