Michael Devaney - The Elisha Pool

“That can’t be all!” Stephenson barked, jerking the satchel from the Translator’s hand. Stephenson grabbed the bottom of the satchel and, in one smooth motion, turned it upside down and gave it a shake.

Along with some feathers and nuts, Stephenson’s Monkey’s Paw fell out onto the ground at his feet.

“I knew it!” Stephenson yelled, discarding the bag. “Now I’m going to kill you,” he said lunging at the Translator.

Owen stepped between them and threw out his arms to intervene. He looked like a referee breaking up a prize fight. “Wait, Grandpa,” he said. “Just wait. Let him talk.”

Stephenson sneered then reached down and retrieved the paw from the ground. He quickly inspected it then blew it off and put it in his pocket. “Fine,” Stephenson said. “Let him talk. The only question I want answered before I kill him is this. Why did you steal from me?”

“I didn’t…at least I didn’t mean too. I found the key ring on the ground last night at the feast. We find things like that lying around our village all the time. I didn’t think it was anything special or know that it was yours. I just liked the way it looked, so I picked it up. Then, just now, before you came out of the hut as Owen was describing it to me I was about to return it. Then you appeared and started acting crazy. At that point, I was afraid to show it to you for fear you’d hurt me. I was going to come back later and give it to Owen when you weren’t around. Honest.”

There was a short pause.

“You’re a liar!” Stephenson said as he moved toward the Translator.

“No,” the Translator said, turning and running away. Within seconds he was out of sight.

With the Translator gone the two of them went back inside the hut where Owen tried talking sense to his grandpa. Motivated by the Translator’s early warning, Owen had, indeed, perceived something different — strange — about his grandpa’s behavior since the ceremony in the jungle. If he had only known what his grandpa was planning upon his return to the States, he may have done more make him stay.

“He’s lucky I let him live,” Stephenson said. “Now finish your packing.”

“Please, Grandpa,” Owen beseeched. “I’d feel much better if we stayed here in the village for a few more days.”

But Stephenson was having none of it. After Owen’s third try, he stopped responding. Owen had seen the same un-budging behavior from his grandpa before and knew from experience there was no need to argue, but felt obligated to make one last effort.

“Grandpa, I know you miss grandma, but no matter what you’re thinking you can’t bring her back. No one can.”

Stephenson smiled and put his hands on Owen’s shoulders. “I can, son. You’ll see. I know it’s hard for you to understand but I have an ace up my sleeve. I can’t talk about it now, but one day you’ll have the same ability.”

Owen’s eyes filled with tears and he dropped his head. “No, sir. You can’t,” he said. “The Translator warned me earlier that unclear thinking was a normal side effect of using the Elisha Pool for a rebirth ceremony. He warned me that you may act this way. That’s why you’re convinced you can bring her back. If you’ll just wait a few days, you’ll see that I’m right.”

Stephenson bear hugged his grandson then patted him on top of the head. “No, son. In time, I promise you’ll see that I’m the one that was right. You’re going to see your grandma again very soon. She’ll even be there to carve the Thanksgiving turkey and to sing Silent Night .”

Owen had nothing left to say. Dejected, he turned and fell into his hammock, leaving his grandpa standing alone in the middle of the hut.

“Can we at least wait until morning to leave?” Owen asked.

Stephenson contemplated the thought a few moments then said, “See how traveling at night could cause some unforeseen issues, that sounds like a perfectly reasonable request regarding our safety. If it makes you feel better I’ll agree to spend the night, but we leave at first light.”

“Thank you, Grandpa.”

Stephenson had rarely been one to go back on his word, especially when it involved his grandson, but this time was different, this time he had never intended to keep it in the first place. Based on the classic Machiavellian approach where “the end justifies the means” Stephenson knew that Owen would appreciate his deceit in the end when he laid eyes on his live grandma again.

Sometime shortly after midnight Stephenson gathered his belongings and sneaked away into the night headed toward the river. He stumbled his way to the dirt path then followed its meanderings to the edge of the village. From there he carefully picked his way past the shrunken heads. When he arrived at the dock he found a small, hand-hewn canoe secured to its side, just as he’d hoped.

Stephenson paused just inside the vegetation and scanned the area for signs of a guard. Finding none, he quickly closed the gap to the dock and boarded the canoe. With impressive efficiency, he tossed his belongings onto the floor of the canoe, untied its lashings from the dock and shoved off. In a matter of seconds, he was away and moving upriver. Guided by the light of the moon and the silhouette of the tree lines along both banks, he paddled into the dark unknown. He kept a steady pace for nearly half an hour before veering left toward land. He had no idea where he was, but felt he was a safe distance away from the village to pull off the next trick up his sleeve.

With little effort he maneuvered closer to the edge of the bank. When the tip of the canoe contacted land, Stephenson lunged forward, grappling in the dark for something to grab onto. Luckily, the rainforest’s fertile vegetation provided multiple options. Working his way through vines and tree branches he toiled to locate the trunk of a tree. Once found, he held onto the trunk with his left hand while manipulating the canoe’s rope with his right. He wrapped the rope around the back of the tree, made a quick loop then tied a Bowline knot to secure it into place. That done he gathered his things, exited the canoe and scurried a short distance out of sight into the jungle.

Taking a seat at the base of a huge Kapok tree, Stephenson pulled a green LED pen light and a small black device from his backpack. He eyed the latter with optimism. Thumbing the pen light on for illumination, he turned the small device over in his hand, first one way then he other, examining it. Measuring roughly three inches square, the plain looking device’s only anomalies were a red circular button situated at its center and a recessed telescopic antenna on its top. When his inspection was complete he extended the device’s antenna and pressed down on the button with his thumb. He held it down and counted slowly to ten, “One Mississippi, Two Mississippi, Three Mississippi…”

The device was part of a fail-safe plan he’d arranged in case anything went wrong while he and Owen were in the jungle with the villagers. A press of the button sent an inaudible SOS distress signal from the device, via satellite, to a receiver monitored around the clock by the same individuals that had arranged his visit into the village. The signal not only sent an SOS alarm, but, once received, also included his current coordinates for tracking purposes. After sending the initial alarm, he’d been instructed to keep a clear, vigilant view of the sky and to re-send the signal a minimum of every twelve hours until help arrived. All he had to do now was wait to be rescued. He hoped.

Shortly before lunchtime on the second day, Stephenson was lying in the shade to escape the unrelenting heat of the sun when he caught sight of something yellow far off in the distant sky. Whatever the object was appeared to be moving slow and approaching from the north. Stephenson perked up grabbed the small black device and soft jogged toward higher ground to gain a better vantage point. Once there he waited patiently for the object to move closer. Ten more minutes passed before a huge rainbow-colored canvas floated into view. When it cleared the obscurity of the tree canopy Stephenson saw it plainly for the first time — it was a hot air balloon coming to his rescue! Overjoyed with glee, he pressed the red button on the homing device and held it for ten seconds. When he released the button, the device began to vibrate and a small obscure green light illuminated beside the antenna.