Uncharted (12 page)

T.J.

On the day we leave for the Maldives, Stacy and Anna go with us to O’Hare. We drop the kids off at my parents’ house and after assuring my mom repeatedly that nothing will go wrong, and that I’ll be home before they know it, we get back in the car.

Stacy’s uncharacteristically quiet, which Ben whispers is a bad sign. “It actually means she’s about to come unglued,” he says, so he’s doing his best to calm her down. “It’s okay, Stace,” I hear him say. “It’ll be fine. Don’t worry. I mean, seriously, what are the odds?”

Anna sits in the passenger seat and she’s a bit quiet, too.

“You’re not worried are you?” I ask.

“Maybe a little.”

“You know we’ve taken every precaution.”

“I know you have.”

Before we go through security I kiss her good-bye. “I love you. I’ll miss you and the kids. And I’ll be back soon.”

She kisses me back with everything she has. “Anything less isn’t an option, T.J.”

Ben and Stacy are locked in an embrace, like they’re afraid they’ll never see each other again. Owen and I wait patiently until I remind Ben that if he doesn’t wrap it up soon, he’s going to make us all late. Anna peels Stacy off of him, suggesting they go out for coffee, and the three of us finally head for security.

•   •   •

It’s the same route Anna and I flew when I was sixteen years old: Chicago to Germany and Germany to Sri Lanka and then finally to Malé. It’s been more than ten years, but in some ways it feels like yesterday. The trip goes off without a hitch this time, though, and I tell myself it’s a good sign.

When we land in the Maldives and walk outside to catch the shuttle to the seaplane terminal, the heat brings back strong memories. The hot humid air presses down on me, and feels slightly suffocating.

“Jesus, it’s hot. I think even my hair is sweating,” Ben says.

“It probably is,” I say.

The seaplane pilot looks like the polar opposite of Mick Forrester. Captain Harrison Bradley is young and fit and tells us he’s from Canada. I glance down. He’s also wearing shoes.

We board the seaplane and buckle in. It’s not like I have trouble flying, and Anna and I have been on planes together several times since we flew on that chartered Learjet that brought us home after being rescued, but there’s a slight feeling of unease that I can’t quite shake as we fly over the open water.

When the pilot alerts us that we’re approaching the island I stare out my window. The aerial view of the island mesmerizes me because it’s weird to see it from above. It’s weird to be seeing it at all.

Landing feels surreal to me, and probably Ben, too, but for completely different reasons. Neither of us have ever been on a plane that landed in a lagoon; it’s quite different from crashing into the ocean. There’s no dock, so we jump from the plane right into the shallow water, our bags slung over our shoulders.

In addition to our sleeping bags and duffels, we’ve each got several large bottles of water, some nonperishable food, and our cell phones. Captain Bradley told us that, due to advances in technology, most notably cell towers, our cell phones will probably still work. I turn mine on and exhale when I see that the signal is nice and strong.

“I’ll be back in the morning,” Captain Bradley says. “I can’t fly in the dark, but you’ll be fine overnight. I know exactly where you are.”

We thank him and he wades back into the water, walking toward the seaplane.

I remember what I said to Anna when I told her why I wanted to come back here. How I wanted to stand on the beach and feel like I was in control.

But I don’t feel like I’m in control at all.

I feel like the only reason I’m alive to stand on this beach again is because of luck, or fate, or whatever you want to call it. I don’t feel invincible. I feel vulnerable, powerless. My heartbeat hammers in my chest and I swallow hard. I’ve never had a panic attack in my life, but I worry that I may be about to experience my first.

“You okay, man?” Ben asks.

I don’t want Owen and Ben to think I can’t handle this, although I’m not sure I actually can. So I take a few deep breaths and get my shit together fast. I think of Anna, healthy and happy. The kids. Our home. All of it ours.

“Yeah. I’m okay,” I say. “Let’s do this.”

Owen turns around and gives a signal to the pilot and my heartbeat stutters once more when I watch the seaplane lift off and fly away.

•   •   •

We walk the beach first. It looks so familiar. Same shoreline. Same clear blue water. Same danger if you’re not careful. I stand there, white sand under my feet, and feel the breeze coming off the ocean. Owen points to the reef. “Way out there is where I saw the whale shark. That’s all James was trying to do the day he died. See if he could spot one, too.”

After the beach we head inland. It’s just as buggy and damp as I remember. There’s no trace of either of our houses, but we show Ben the general location where Owen built his. It’s hard to be exact because the island’s vegetation seems to be thicker than ever.

It takes us a half hour to find the cave. It shouldn’t be that hard to find, but the opening is really blocked this time and it takes some digging to clear the plant debris away. “Is this it?” Ben asks.

Owen nods. “Yeah.”

“Is he still in there?” I ask.

On the flight over, Owen mentioned that he was worried about the tsunami displacing the body. Maybe the water had filled the cave and when it receded it took the bones with it.

“Only one way to find out,” he says.

Owen has brought a small flashlight and he pulls it from his pocket and lies down on the ground, inching forward. He keeps going until the only thing sticking out of the cave are his shoes.

“Well?” I shout.

I get my answer when he wriggles out and places the skull on the ground at my feet. I crouch, remembering the day when I first found it. How I wondered whom it belonged to. What had happened to him or her.

Owen stands up, brushes the dirt from his hands, and wipes his face with his forearm. “It looks like all the bones are still there. I’ll get my bag.”

•   •   •

Ben and I help Owen retrieve the bones from the cave. At one point, the three of us are stuffed into the opening of the cave side by side. Ben holds the flashlight while Owen and I feel around, making sure we aren’t leaving any part of the skeleton behind.

We place the bones in the extra-large duffel bag Owen brought. “What now?” I ask. “You can’t bring a skeleton on a commercial flight, can you?”

Owen shakes his head. “The remains will be shipped by the local funeral home in Malé; I’ve already been in contact with them to arrange it. Captain Bradley has agreed to transport the bones to the mainland for me.”

I clap Owen on the back. “It’s over. You did what you came to do.”

•   •   •

When the sun goes down I tell Ben to watch the sky. “Why?” he asks.

“You’ll see.” It isn’t long before Ben does see, because the bats fill the sky, blocking out the light of the moon.

“Holy shitballs,” he says. “There must be hundreds, maybe thousands. Where do they go during the day?”

“I don’t know,” I say. “I don’t think I want to know.”

We build a roaring fire on the beach, and eat the food we brought with us: chips and beef jerky and crackers and peanut butter sandwiches.

“Why haven’t you come for the bones before now?” Ben asks.

“I’d somewhat made peace with the fact that this would be James’s final resting place. Kind of like those climbers that die on Mount Everest. It would be better to bring the bodies down, but they’re not easy to get to and people treat them with respect, so they stay. I don’t have regular Internet access—I’ve been offline for years and I don’t really miss it—but a few months ago I had the opportunity to use a computer. I Googled the Maldives on a whim, really. I’d spent enough time here that I was just curious. Thought I’d see what was going on. I never expected to discover the things I did. I read about T.J. and Anna, and what had happened to them. I read all the news stories, going back through pages and pages of coverage about the crash and the rescue. One of the links led me to a news story that mentioned the skeleton they’d found, and how they’d told the police about it after their rescue. I knew James’s resting place was no longer as secure as I thought it would be. If Anna and T.J. could find him, there was a chance someone else might, too, someday. So here we are.”

None of us says anything for a while. We stare at the fire and I listen to the crash of the waves. “Whatever happened to those business partners of yours, Owen?” I ask.

“I looked them up, too. They had one of the largest IPOs in the country. But they never delivered on their product or earned enough income to offset their spending. When the bubble burst their stock price tanked and was only worth pennies on the dollar. They went bankrupt in early 2001.”

“Wow,” I say. “Guess you called that one.”

“I guess so,” he says.

Later, when Owen has fallen asleep, Ben turns to me and says, “Is it hard for you? Being here?”

I’ve been lying here unable to sleep, mentally counting down the minutes until the seaplane will return, trying to make sense of it all. “I’ve got all these memories, Ben. All these sights and sounds and smells flooding my system, and none of them feel good. I thought I would feel invincible if I came back here, but I don’t. I still feel powerless. I want to go home, back to Anna and the kids.”

“I get that,” he says. “But whether you agree with me or not, you kicked this island’s ass, T.J. There aren’t very many people in the world who could make it through something like this.”

“You’d be surprised what people can do when they have no other choice, Ben.”

“Maybe so. But I’m not best friends with any of them.”

“Thanks for coming with me,” I say.

“Anytime.”

In the morning, I use my phone to take pictures so I can show Anna and my parents what I’ve seen, what the island looks like now. The pictures will show a place that’s breathtakingly beautiful, yet beautifully deceiving.

And when the seaplane lands in the lagoon, I’m the first one on it.

Owen

I pack up my things and walk outside. We got home from the Maldives late yesterday, and T.J. and I both slept clear through to the next morning. Now, I’ve got another plane to catch in about three hours.

Anna is sitting on the steps blowing bubbles, with Piper on her lap. The baby seems to love this, and she reaches out a tiny hand, trying to pop them.

“Feel rested?” she asks.

“Getting there,” I say. “Do you know where T.J. is?”

“He and the twins are over there,” she says, pointing to a wooden structure that runs alongside the garage.

“What is that?” I ask.

She smiles. “It’s a chicken coop. We have five of them. They make great pets.” She blows another round of bubbles and Piper laughs. I watch as T.J. comes around the corner, Josie and Mick holding on to his hands.

“I was thinking about Calia while you were gone,” Anna says. “Whatever happened to her, Owen? Why didn’t she call?”

I sit down on the steps beside her. “After your seaplane went down I was in a pretty bad place. I went home. Made peace with my family. My sister had divorced her loser husband by then, but my mom was still with my stepdad. He’d finally gotten his shit together a little and she seemed happy. I hung around, trying to think of what I wanted to do next. But then I realized how stupid I was being. I had the financial resources and I definitely had the time. So why the hell wasn’t I looking for her? I started by flying to Farnham. It wasn’t that difficult to track down her address. I expected her to swing open the door and then I’d demand that she tell me why she never called. But no one answered when I rang the bell, and I was really disappointed because she should have been back by then. But small towns have one major thing going for them: Everyone knows your business. Calia’s neighbor was outside watering flowers when I arrived, and she was happy to tell me all about Calia, and where I could find her, which turned out to be a small, remote village in Africa. By the way, Africa is a really big place.”

Anna laughs. “It isn’t exactly small.”

“It took me a while to track her down. It turned out that she’d signed up for another volunteer project, and the organization she was with was not real eager to divulge the location of their volunteers, understandably. I persisted but kept running into one dead end after another. Finally, I got lucky and one day, after weeks of searching, I walked into a village and started looking around for girls with long blond hair. When I spotted her, in the middle of a group of African children, I remember being the happiest I’d been in a long time. I didn’t even care if she minded that I’d tracked her down. I was just glad I’d found her.”

“What did she say?” Anna leans forward, as if she’s eager to hear my response.

“She threw herself into my arms, crying, and said, ‘I hope you are here to un-break my heart, Owen. I’ve been waiting so long for you to come and find me.’”

“Why didn’t you call?” I asked her.

“Because my purse was stolen on the way home,” she said. “My phone was inside it.”

“Then what happened?” Anna asks.

“Then I kissed her like my life depended on it.”

“Oh, Owen,” Anna says. She has tears in her eyes.

“It made sense then. I hadn’t been wrong about her feelings for me. She just didn’t know where to find me.”

“Where is she now? Is she still in Africa?”

“Yes. We both live in that village, as volunteers. It makes her happy. And she’s my wife now, which makes
me
happy. It was hard for me to tell her that James’s body had been discovered. When I finally tracked her down in Africa the first thing I told her was that I hadn’t gone back to get him like I said I would. I felt horrible about that, and I was sure she’d break down. Tell me how disappointed she was in me. I don’t know if it was because enough time had gone by, but she said it was okay, that she’d made her peace with it, just like I had. She had lots of ways to remember him—pictures and his personal items, many of which she kept. But we both knew it was time to bring James back. She didn’t want to come with me. She has a lot of . . . bad memories. She said, ‘I will be waiting in Farnham to welcome him home, Owen.’”

“What did you whisper in her ear?” Anna asks. “When you put her on the plane to go home? What did you say to her?”

“I told her I loved her.”

“And what did she say?”

“She said, ‘I love you, too.’”

Anna wipes her eyes. “That’s beautiful, Owen.”

T.J. walks up to us, the twins following closely behind. He kneels down beside Anna, a concerned expression on his face. “Why are you crying?” he asks.

“Don’t worry,” she says. “They’re happy tears. There’s nothing I love more than a good happy ending.”