Uncharted An On the Island Novella

  I nod my head, thinking as I often do that she is the most remarkable person I’ve ever known.

  “I’ll come to bed in a minute,” she says. “I’m going to rock Piper.”

  Piper has stopped fussing and fallen back to sleep. But I know that it’s Anna’s way of telling me she needs to be alone with her memories for a little while longer, so I kiss both of them and say, “Okay.”

  Chapter 19

  Owen

  I’m sitting in Anna and T.J.’s living room the next evening when the doorbell rings.

  “That’s probably Ben,” T.J. says. He opens the door and greets his friend, then welcomes him inside.

  I rise from my chair and cross the room to where they’re standing.

  “This is Owen,” T.J. says.

  Ben takes a step toward me with an outstretched hand. “Hey, I’m Ben. It’s nice to meet you. T.J. told me your story. That’s wild, man.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, too,” I say.

  “Uncle Benny,” Mick shouts, bursting into the room and barreling toward Ben.

  “Hey there, Mickey Mouse.” Ben scoops him up and spins him around. “Whatcha been up to, little buddy?” He keeps spinning him, faster and faster, and Mick is laughing so hard he can’t answer.

  Anna walks by with the baby in her arms. “If he pukes like he did the last time you did that, you’re cleaning it up,” she says.

  They slowly stop spinning and when Ben sets Mick down the little boy immediately falls over.

  “Again!” Mick says.

  “I can’t,” Ben says. “If you puke, your mom’s gonna get pissed at me. Don’t tell her I said pissed in front of you, okay?”

  “Pissed!” Mick shouts.

  Josie walks up to Ben and hands him a plastic teacup. He doesn’t miss a beat and pretends to drink it all down. “Thanks, Jos. Can I please have a refill?” She walks away toward her play kitchen, which is set up in a corner of the living room.

  Anna walks back into the room. “Dinner’s ready. Who wants a taco?”

  “Me!” the kids shout, and we follow them into the kitchen.

  • • •

  After dinner, T.J. tells me he’d like to go back to the island with me if the offer still stands.

  “Of course,” I say. I’m surprised, because I really hadn’t expected to hear those words from him. “What made you change your mind?”

  “Anna,” T.J. says. He looks at her and she smiles back at him, and I get the feeling there’s probably more to it than that. T.J. puts his arm around her and she lays her head on his shoulder.

  Ben leans toward my chair. “They’re always really touchy-feely. You’ll get used to it,” he says.

  T.J. starts laughing. “He’s one to talk. If Stacy were here, she’d be in his lap right now, with her tongue in his ear.”

  “Damn right she would,” Ben says. He looks at me. “Stacy’s my fiancée. We’re getting married in a few months. She wanted to come tonight, but she had some wedding stuff to take care of. That girl has turned into a major bridezilla. But I don’t care because I love her.”

  “Congratulations,” I say.

  Anna stands up and pushes her chair back. “I’m going to put the kids to bed and then go read in the bedroom. I’ll leave you guys to talk.”

  T.J. also rises. “I’ll help you round them up.” He stops in front of a cupboard, opens it, and pulls out a bottle of whiskey. “Owen?” he asks.

  “Sure,” I say.

  Anna crosses to the refrigerator. “I bought some beer, Ben.”

  “I’ll just have whiskey,” he says.

  “Are you sure?” Anna asks. “Because I’ve got Bud Light.” She’s smiling and it sounds like she’s teasing him. She pulls out a longneck bottle and holds it up. “I picked up some at the store the other day, just for you.”

  “No, I’m good,” he says.

  “Stay here, T.J. I can get the kids down.” On her way out of the kitchen Anna gives him a lingering kiss. Ben points to his cheek and clears his throat, and she laughs and gives him a quick peck.

  “Your wife just kissed me, T.J. You’ll probably want to keep a close eye on us.”

  T.J. gets out three glasses and uncaps the bottle. “I’m not remotely worried,” he says with a snort, pouring the whiskey into our glasses.

  “That hurts, man,” Ben says, laughing. “That really hurts.”

  • • •

  “What I want to know,” I say two hours later, “is how come my house was a shack, but your house was a house.” This question strikes me as slightly funny, but that’s probably because the level of whiskey in the bottle is quite a bit lower than it was.

  “Don’t get me wrong,” T.J. says. “Your house was stellar. Really well done. But the heat and humidity are not forgiving when it comes to wood.” Or bodies, I might add, but I don’t want to bring everyone down. “Some of that wood was pretty rotten.” He takes another drink. “It didn’t look quite as good as you remember when we found it.” He picks up the bottle and pours some more whiskey into my glass. “Why’d you build it in the woods, anyway? Jesus, the rats.”

  “I thought the trees would give me some protection from the storms—and they did. I always worried that one might fall on the house, though.”

  “T.J. told me about the big spiders,” Ben says.

  “Brown huntsman,” I say. “Creepy as hell.”

  “Word,” T.J. says, leaning over to clink his glass against mine.

  “You okay with sleeping on the beach?” I ask, directing my question to T.J.

  “Sure. Won’t be the first time.”

  “I’m traveling light. Not planning on bringing a tent. Just a duffel and sleeping bag. Enough food and water for about twenty-four hours. “

  “Fine by me. City Boy over there is the one who’d need high-end camping gear,” T.J. says. “He works in a bank. Wears a tie every day. Drinks lattes.”

  “I love my job—and lattes—so you can fuck off, Callahan,” Ben says. But he smiles at T.J., and I can tell by his tone that he’s kidding. Good for him. Steady job, girl he loves. What more could you want?

  “Why don’t you come with us?” I ask.

  “Me?” Ben says.

  He probably thinks it’s the whiskey talking, but I’m sincere. “Sure,” I say. “Do you have a passport?”

  “Yeah,” Ben says.

  “Can you get the time off?”

  “I’ve got some vacation days I might not have mentioned to Stacy, but only because I was afraid she’d make me use them for some weird wedding shit that I don’t need to be a part of.”

  “T.J.?”

  “It would be great if Ben came along,” he says.

  “Okay, then. It’s settled,” Ben says. “Stacy’s probably gonna blow a gasket, but she’ll come around.”

  “Cheers,” I say, and we raise our glasses.

  “What are we toasting to?” Ben asks.

  “Returning home safely,” T.J. says, and the three of us down our drinks.

  Chapter 20

  T.J.

  I tell Ben to crash in the den and give Owen the couch in the living room. No one’s really hammered, but no one should be driving, either. I turn off lights and lock up, then head down the hallway. Josie is asleep on her back, clutching her favorite blanket. I tuck the covers in around her and go to Mick’s room. He wakes up when I put his teddy bear back in his arms. Groggy, he looks at me and says, “Can I have some water, Daddy?”

  I walk to the kitchen and fill a sippy cup with water. When I hand it to him he takes a few sips and falls right back to sleep. Piper is sleeping on her stomach, with her little diapered butt sticking up in the air. I cover her, too, even though it will do no good. She’ll just kick her blanket off again.

  After I check on the kids I walk into the bedroom, very happy to see that Anna is still awake. I lock the door behind me.

  She’s lying on top of the covers, propped up by a couple of pillows, and all she’s wearing is a tank top with thin
straps and a tiny pair of black underwear. She marks her page and then set her book on the nightstand, giving me a smile.

  I strip off my clothes—all of them—and join her on the bed.

  “You taste like whiskey,” she says when I pull her into my arms and kiss her. She runs her hands across my chest, letting them drift lower, which makes me happier still. “I like the way you taste. Kiss me again.”

  So I do. I also remove her tank top and run my fingers lightly over her skin. She lets out a soft sigh. She’s always beautiful to me, but she looks especially beautiful right now, because I can see and feel and hear what my touch is doing to her.

  “I need you,” I say.

  “I’m yours.”

  I know she’s often tired, and that chasing after three kids wears her out, but very rarely does she tell me no. She still worries about the cancer coming back, and she told me once that she considers it a gift every time we make love. I do, too. But not because there’s anything to worry about with my health. It’s because she chose this life with me, and I know how very lucky I am.

  I take off her underwear, sliding them down slowly, and start to touch her. She moans and tells me it feels good, tells me not to stop. I love the way she gives herself to me completely, how she never holds back.

  “Now,” she says, pulling me up so that I can slide inside of her. It feels every bit as good as it always does and it doesn’t take long before I’m the one whispering in her ear, moaning, telling her that I love her.

  I’m close, but I wait until she clenches around me and then I don’t hold back. She holds on to me tightly and says my name over and over as our breathing and our movement slows.

  I could listen to her say it forever and it still wouldn’t be long enough.

  Chapter 21

  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 b
ag.”

  • • •

  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.”