Brandon Enns - Islanders

“It’ll all be okay, I promise… You’re all kinds of troubled now I can see, no thanks to me.”

“I’ve got a lot of my mind that’s all. It’s not your fault.”

“Anything you wish to share with a stranger you just met?”

Erin hesitated. “No. That’s okay. Just… I guess I have a sudden appreciation for home. I thought trips were supposed to be fun.”

“That’s a good thing that you like home. A wonderful thing.”

“I guess, yeah. Or it means I’m too chicken to leave my comfort zone. I’ve been told that.”

“I wouldn’t worry. Many people aren’t afforded any comfort in their lives. It’s a special thing to be aware of and grateful for… Besides, is this supposed to be an escape from your comfort zone? Not exactly slumming it, are you?” She laughed. “I’m just bugging you, dear. I know it’s your friend. We’ll find him.”

“Yeah… So you live in Belize I take it?”

“Sure do. It’s so beautiful. We’ve built quite the relationship with the locals. Keep the hungry fed and as many of the jobless working as we can.” She chortled. “I’m being boastful. My husband is constantly reminding me to be more humble. I just can’t help but be proud sometimes, you know?”

“I don’t think you’re being boastful.”

“Well, no matter. You know what?”

“What?”

“You’ll return to your friends and the lost boy will be there. Maybe you have a beer and forget all about wanting to go home. How about you do some spearfishing with my husband? That should get you out of that pesky comfort zone, yeah? How does that sound?”

Erin chuckled. “Sounds pretty good to me.”

“That’s the spirit. A couple hours from now you’ll feel right as rain, my dear.”

“You should be a psychiatrist.”

“I don’t believe in all those pills. Nothing a place like this can’t fix.”

“You might be right.”

“I’m right.”

Teresa ran her hand over Erin’s hair and caressed her face for half a second. “I’ll come around at the end of the day. Check on you guys.”

“Okay.”

Teresa turned to leave. “How do you live here? Away from everything? What brought you here?” Erin asked.

“Well, we can leave any time we want, you do realize that?” said Teresa.

They exchanged smiles.

“My husband bought a restaurant in Belize a while back. It was a tough road that led us there, but I’m grateful it did… I think as humans we always crave change, especially when what we have doesn’t feel right. It’s all a juggling act. The most important things to a person rise to the top, and hopefully the heart is at peace. At some point it should be. Or so I hope. Who knows God’s truths? We should all quit pretending we do, I suppose.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Oh no, dear. Nothing is easy. It’s a long and difficult journey. But what else would it be without it? Pointless if you ask me.”

“And your important thing is this place?”

“Of course not. Mine is my family.”

“Sounds like Belize is a nice fit though,” Erin said.

She nodded, smiled, and brushed her hair back away from her eyes again. “You are very beautiful. There might be some untapped potential there too. Just a hunch.” She winked. “I’m good at reading people. Maybe if you’re lucky, I’ll read your future before you leave.”

“Sorry to burst your optimistic bubble, but clearly you aren’t good at reading people.”

“I know enough just from looking at you.”

She rose to her feet and spoke a few final words before her departure. “Relax. It’ll all be okay.”

As Erin watched Teresa leave, her phone vibrated. She looked down to find a text had somehow forced its way through. How is there service here?

The text read: “ Building a future from scratch was no simple feat. What was used as a tool to build, protect, and sustain, became a weapon of destruction. In the place that doesn’t exist, where water runs deep, retrieve the final armament.”

Erin started walking back to the middle circle to meet with Trevor when another text came in. Her heart sank. “ Fail to proceed with the task and consider your friend dead in less than pleasurable means.”

Erin sat on the ground staring at the screen in disbelief.

She knocked on the front door and nobody came. She walked around and tried the backside. Still nothing. She didn’t know whether to be pissed with Stefan or worried for his well-being. He had been gone for almost twenty-four hours now, not a trace of him. Without the faintest of clues what to do next, she leaned up against the backside of Stefan’s house and allowed more self-torture to prevail, scrolling through more nude photos of Skye. She slid the phone back in her pocket and exhaled.

Eight years ago

Caught in a foster home with a man that had been steadily gauging her developing teenage body, she could sense something treacherous was about to take place. It started with the slightest touch to her shoulder, her arm, small caresses that normal parents may provide to their children. But then, a time came when he looked at her differently.

One night while she was studying in her tiny bedroom next to a room that harbored three younger boys, he entered and stared down at her, his hand laid flat against his small belly hanging over his waistline. Pretending to be busy and deep in thought with her textbook, she could feel the heat rising to her cheeks. He sat on the edge of the bed, the bedsprings creaking. He stroked her back gently, so she pretended to be startled, making the moment seem natural and innocent.

Her acting didn’t deter the man. She could smell the pine needles of gin on his breath as he leaned over her body. His eyes were bloodshot and glazed. His lips were still, his hands calm and steady. He slid his hand under her shirt along her backside and ran his cold, leathery hand up and down, up and down. Erin trembled at his touch, which is exactly when she saw him close his eyes. His touch lingered along her lower back. Was he going to slide his hand down the back of her pants? Feel the trim of her panties? She could only peer around the other side of his body to see his other hand on his crotch. “I’m sorry. I have to finish this chapter. See you downstairs in a half hour?”

His eyes flickered.

He rose to his feet and smiled. “Of course. I’ll check what’s cooking down there. Smells like roast.”

“Yum. I’m hungry.”

With that, he left. And two days later, so did she. Not that much convincing was needed, but her boyfriend aided in her escape, and they lived on their own, starting with the streets for twenty-four hours and eventually moving in with his cousin Eddie. Erin’s boyfriend, Josh, lived fast and loose without regard of anyone else’s perception of who he was or what he was up to next. He was rather homely looking, with bushy eyebrows and a curved nose, but he had this way of always making her feel good about herself. He made her look forward to things. It was good to feel excited instead of hopeless. She didn’t know why a guy like that was interested in her. She was structured, focused on her studies. Regardless, they were happy together. Perhaps they both had qualities the other lacked. They filled each other’s gaps, so to speak.

A plan soon took shape. They shared a vision, but they needed the cash to bring that vision to fruition. Money would get them a sufficient living situation, a new school to finish out her last two years (the most important time to line up her full ride to medical school) and a little left over for a down payment on a modest garage. Eric was quite the mechanic. He absolutely loved working with cars. It was his dream.