Eternal Youth

by Julia Crane

  Bill just stared at the man; Callie could see the wheels turning in his mind.

  “Then we leave,” Jarrett said loudly. He pushed his chair away so sharply it skidded across the floor and fell over. The sound was loud in the near-silence. “Who’s comin’ with me?”

  A handful of the survivors stood: the remaining flight attendant, several of the older people, and Gavin. As she watched them gather into a huddle and begin to discuss their options, the skin at the back of Callie’s neck prickled.

  She turned to eye the six at the front of the room. Their faces showed absolutely no emotion. The boy on the stool, though… His face—emotionless only ten minutes before—had fallen.

  There was remorse in his eyes.

  “Are we going?” Emma said softly, interrupting Callie’s musings. “It might be the only way home. By boat.”

  Gran—seated to Callie’s right—placed a hand on her daughter’s arm and just slightly shook her head. “No, love. I don’t think we should.”

  Callie rubbed the back of her neck; it was the same feeling she’d gotten at the airport before they’d boarded the plane that went down. She’d never ignore it again.

  “I agree with Gran,” Callie murmured. She was heartened by Nailah’s hand resting on her shoulder in agreement. “Something isn’t right.”

  “Where can we find a boat?” Bill called over his huddle, directing the question to Darren.

  “In the harbor.” The man’s answer sent a titter through the other five leaders.

  Bill glared at the man a moment more, and then turned back to his crew. “Let’s go.”

  The room was uncomfortably silent after the group walked out. Maire returned to her seat, and Darren stood back up, rubbing a hand across his brow as if his head hurt. His dark eyes opened; they were sad.

  “We expect this, ladies and gentleman.” He surveyed the remaining survivors—Callie counted twenty-five. His face was haggard. “It happens each time a wreck happens here in Aionia. The information is too much to process; the disbelief is too high. Let this convince you, my friends. You made the right choice. I need you all to follow us to the harbor.”

  It was a beautiful day. The weather was lovely and mild; though the sun shone brightly, the breeze blew just enough to take away the sting. Callie leaned on Nailah as they followed the crowd to the edge of the water, where Bill and his group were already on a small, wooden vessel that looked like a miniature pirate ship.

  None of the boats in the harbor looked like anything from back home. There were no Rangers or Bayliners; every boat was carved wood. The word came back to her from her studies: schooner.

  Nobody spoke as they watched Bill and his team prepare to launch. Callie wondered how they knew what to do to make the ship work, but she wasn’t in any position to ask.

  “You sure you aren’t coming with us?” Bill called out as he prepared to draw up the gangplank.

  He was met with silence.

  “So be it. Stay here and let them brainwash you. We’re going home.”

  Callie’s heart ached when she noticed the mother and the baby standing at the edge of the boat. The woman stared back at them, her face worried but determined.

  Without thinking, Callie rushed forward and jumped on the gangplank.

  “Calista! What the hell are you doing?” Nailah yelled, as Emma gasped and Gran called out her name.

  Callie waved them off. She climbed the ramp until she was face-to-face with Bill. “Wait. I need to talk to her.” Callie pointed at the woman, whose big eyes were trained on Callie in confusion.

  Bill shrugged. “Okay. You’ve got two minutes to get off or you’re coming with us.”

  Callie hurried across the warm boards of the ship and grasped the woman’s arm. “I don’t think you should go. I have a bad feeling about this.”

  The woman stared at Callie intently. “I have to get back to my husband. My baby needs her father.”

  Callie felt like a knife had been driven through her heart. She knew what it was like to live without a father. “Please, just wait. If they’re successful, we’ll leave tomorrow on another boat. Don’t risk your baby for one day.”

  The woman closed her eyes, absently rubbing the soft hair on her child’s head. When she opened them, she smiled shakily. “Okay, I guess one day won’t matter. I was supposed to be gone a week anyway.” She kissed the top of the baby’s head and followed Callie back to shore.

  The ship began to pull away from the harbor, Bill’s voice loud as he shouted instructions. An old woman stood at the edge of the boat staring back at the people on shore as she waved.

  Nailah reached for Callie’s hand, and their fingers entwined as if they were each other’s life support line.

  “What’s going to happen?” Callie asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  It didn’t take long for the breeze to catch the sails of the ship. They billowed like white wings and the point of the schooner headed for open water. The sight was majestic, like something out of one of her father’s blockbuster movies.

  Nailah’s hand was so tight that it cut off Callie’s circulation. She held her breath, her eyes trained on the ship.

  It happened fast, just as Maire and Darren had predicted. A sound, like that of a match igniting a puddle of gasoline only louder, whooshed over the harbor. Callie jumped, and then watched in horror as the boat turned into a fireball.

  Screams carried over the water—agonized, crying for help.

  In less than a minute, the flaming wreckage disappeared beneath the water.

  As if it had never existed.

  To Callie’s right, the woman clutched her baby and sobbed.

  It was a somber crowd that gathered back in the meeting hall. Several women cried softly while others attempted to comfort them, their low murmurs echoing off the tall, stone ceilings. The six men and women at the front of the room were quiet and expressionless, as if they were waiting for the survivors to pull themselves together.

  Callie held Nailah’s hand at the table, her breakfast forgotten. Gran was sniffling, one of her small hands resting on Callie’s leg while Emma sat with an arm around her mother’s shoulders. Callie felt united in the face of yet another disaster.

  Life isn’t fair. This shouldn’t have happened to us again.

  “Ladies and gentleman, I apologize for the need for you to witness that.” Darren didn’t elaborate on the “that” because it wasn’t necessary. “Sometimes it takes things beyond our control to prove a point.

  “You will not be unhappy here in Aionia. Everything you need will be given to you during the next few days. You will be given a home, as well as every amenity you could need, and you will also receive job assignments. The parliament wishes to make sure your transition to Aionia is painless.”

  Painless, my ass, Callie thought bitterly. She thought of all the people she’d seen dead or dying in just twenty-four hours’ time, and had to grit her teeth to hold back a scream. Tears had been trailing down her cheeks since the explosion; she thought they would never stop.

  “We will leave you now to your breakfast. Today, we ask that you remain here in the temple. If you need anything at all, your ambassador will be close by to assist you.” With that, Darren motioned for the other parliament members to follow him.

  The survivors didn’t move as the six filed out.

  Callie noticed the boy, still on his stool behind the table. She didn’t remember him getting up and following them out for the ship…and now, his face was so distraught that the sight of it wrenched Callie’s heart.

  Who is he? she wondered. He hadn’t said a word through any of what had transpired. He’d just sat, his pen scribbling across paper.

  He turned in her direction, as if he could sense her gaze, and Callie jumped when his ice-blue eyes met hers. There was a spark of something in them—empathy? Indecision? Loneliness? And then he glanced away.

  The boy flipped down the pages of his clipboard and shoved the pen in the clip. He stoo
d, folded his stool and tucked it under an arm, and then left the room.

  Later that evening, Callie lay in bed and listened to Nailah’s breathing in the dark.

  She was still shaken by the explosion. There was no way she would ever forget the sight of the ship going up in flames; it had happened so fast, so brutally. Callie flipped over on to her stomach and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to forget the screams.

  Could this be real? Are we really stuck in another dimension? It seemed so crazy. It couldn’t possibly be true. It sounded like a movie her father would have produced.

  Nailah was convinced their fate had been sealed.

  “I’m scared,” Callie whispered. She heard Nailah’s bed creak as the girl moved. A second later, her weight sank onto Callie’s own mattress; it was too dark to even see her. No windows, no ambient light. They should have left the oil lamp lit.

  Nailah lay back on Callie’s pillow, her shoulder pressed to Callie’s. “I’m scared too, but I think we have to face the reality of the situation”

  “I’m not sure what’s reality anymore.” Callie pressed her fingers to her temples and massaged; her head was pounding.

  “Have you noticed there are no clocks here? No phones, either. I had my cell phone in my pocket during the crash. It’s useless. No service.”

  The thought terrified Callie; they really were cut off. She thought of Gran’s house and San Diego, and her heart fell. “I don’t want to be stuck here. Oh, God, I’m never going to see my best friend again. Or Braden, ohmigod, I’ll never see Braden again.” Callie put her hand to her stomach and shot up in bed, steadying herself on the stone wall with her other hand. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  Nailah sat up, too, and gently reached over, seeking Callie’s forehead. “You’re feverish. Lay back down and talk to me. Is Braden your boyfriend?”

  “No, he’s my cousin.” Callie did as Nailah said and settled back on the bed. Her voice quavered as she answered. “He’s more like my big brother. We’re always together. He was supposed to come with us on this trip, but decided to stay home at the last minute.”

  “We all have loved ones left behind, Callie.” It was the first time Callie could remember Nailah using her nickname instead of her full name. “My mother, my sisters, and my fiancé.”

  The pain in Nailah’s voice made Callie’s heart hurt. “You’re engaged?”

  “Yes. Michael. We’re supposed to get married next summer.”

  Callie gritted her teeth as anger flooded her body. “We have to find a way out of here. There has to be a way. We can’t just blindly accept that we’ll never go home. I don’t care how long it takes. We’re going to find a way out of here.”

  “I wish I could believe you.” Nailah sighed. “They said people have been landing here for hundreds of years. I think if there was a way out, they would have found it by now.”

  Callie was silent for a moment as she weighed her options. Nailah had ceased being just some girl on a plane when that plane had crash-landed in a nightmare. Callie took a deep breath and said, “We have my mother.”

  Nailah shifted, and there was a beat before she answered, “What do you mean?”

  “My dad died when I was ten,” Callie started. Nailah made a sympathetic sound, and Callie went on. “My mom flipped. Like, totally lost her mind. She became obsessed with living longer. Dad was her soulmate…she only had him for like fifteen years. No small number, but she’d never imagined him gone, you know?”

  Nailah murmured her assent. Her warmth disappeared and the bed creaked as she moved.

  “What are you doing?” Callie sat up, wondering if it was something she said.

  “Lighting the oil lamp. I can tell this is an important piece of your life you’re going to share with me, and I’d like to see your face.”

  Callie chuckled. “I guess it kinda is.” She waited until Nailah located the matches and lamp and the room was illuminated, before she continued. “You’ve heard of the fountain of youth?”

  “Of course,” Nailah answered, taking a seat on her own bed so she could face Callie.

  “Well, my mom is adamant that it exists. And we’ve spent the last six years of my life traveling the world, chasing down backwards leads and wrong information in my mom’s desperate search for eternal youth that doesn’t exist.” Callie shrugged. “Or to cheat death, I guess.”

  “You’ll seriously sit there and argue that the fountain of youth doesn’t exist?” Nailah laughed. Her grin was wry as she said, “Another legend like the Bermuda Triangle.”

  Callie leaned heavily against the wall; Nailah’s words were like darts. “Touché.”

  “You can no longer deny the Triangle is real, Callie.” Nailah clasped her long fingers together in her lap; not for the first time, Callie was struck by the seemingly ageless wisdom in her new friend’s eyes. “You should tread carefully in your beliefs when it concerns your mom and the fountain of youth.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” Callie was surprised to find she meant it.

  “So. Were you guys off to search for the fountain in Bermuda?” Nailah stretched out on her bed and rested her cheek on her pillow as she waited for Callie’s answer.

  Callie shook her head. “No. This was strictly a vacation.”

  “Ironic.”

  “Glad I’m not the only one who sees that.” Callie laughed. She crawled under the covers. “The moral of the story is my mom is good at searching. So am I. I think with the four of us working together, we’ll find a way home.”

  Nailah nodded. Her braids were splayed about her pillow like a halo. “I’m with you all the way, Callie.”

  Callie’s thoughts drifted over the events of the day as they lay there in companionable silence. She remembered the people from the meeting; their placid smiles, their stoic faces as the ship burned… “I have a feeling we should keep this to ourselves. That we’re going to find a way out.”

  “Why?”

  “This place is beautiful and all, but it still gives me the creeps. We don’t know who we can trust. Those six people in charge feel weird. A little too pleasant. And I don’t know about you, but I think they should have tried harder to stop those people from leaving.”

  Nailah shrugged, the motion almost unnoticeable under her blanket. “They wouldn’t have listened. When people get something stuck in their minds, it often can’t be changed.”

  “Not always,” Callie mused. “That baby could be dead right now if I hadn’t convinced that woman to get off the boat.”

  “You did good.” Nailah smiled.

  Callie met Nailah’s eyes. “Those people survived a plane crash only to be killed anyway. It seems senseless.”

  “It was senseless,” Nailah said. “Many things in this world are senseless.”

  They became silent after that, both lost in their own thoughts. Callie was eternally thankful for Nailah’s presence as they drifted off to sleep, the oil lamp still alight.

  It was disorienting to Callie to wake up in a room that looked exactly as it did when she fell asleep. There is something to be said for windows. And sunshine.

  Nailah was already awake. She sat up in her bed and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, as Callie stretched. Every bone in her body seemed to pop; she ached all over.

  “Do you ache as much as I do?” Callie mumbled, carefully rotating her ankle beneath the blanket. When the movement didn’t hurt at all, it startled her. Other than the bone-deep, dull ache of being a crash victim, nothing else on her hurt—including her injured ankle.

  “Just a little, yes,” Nailah answered. She pulled her hands away from her face and stared down at her palms, her brow furrowed. “Wow. That was quick.”

  “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

  Nailah held her palms out in the space between their beds so that Callie could see. The soft brown inside of her hands was completely healed. Callie’s eyes widened. “Where are all the scratches?”

  “I don’t know.” Nailah shook her head. She drew
her hands back to her body and stared at them. “They were on fire last night before I fell asleep.”

  “Maybe there was some kind of antibiotic in that water Stacey had you clean in,” Callie suggested. She pushed back the covers and shivered. “Jeez, it’s freezing in here.”

  There was a knock at the door and both girls turned their heads, calling for whoever it was to enter.

  Lisbeth’s head poked in. Her red hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she had a small pair of silver-framed glasses on. “Good morning! I trust you slept well?”

  Callie and Nailah exchanged a glance. She sure does talk funny, Callie thought. And she’s entirely too perky in the morning. Callie nodded. “Yes, thank you. Great.”

  “Wonderful. We’ll be ready to serve you breakfast in an hour or so. However, if you’ll first follow me, I will take you to the clothier to pick out some outfits to get you started. You’ll have a busy couple of days as we get you settled here in Aionia.”

  “Can we pit stop at the bathroom?” Callie asked as she stood and stretched her hands to the ceiling. Her back popped loudly.

  Lisbeth opened the door wider and wrinkled her nose. “Pit stop?”

  Callie looked at her askance. “Yeah. You know, stop by the bathroom real fast.”

  “Ah,” Lisbeth murmured, though her face showed no hint of recognition. “Of course. I’ll be waiting in the hall with your mother and grandmother. Do join us when you are ready.”

  “How did she not understand ‘pit stop’?” Callie asked after Lisbeth had shut the door behind her. She shoved her feet into her flip-flops and wished she had a sweater to pull on over her dirty tank top.

  “Colloquialisms sometimes don’t transfer to other countries,” Nailah offered as she kicked off her covers. “Maybe she’s not from the States?”

  “She does talk weird. Maybe she’s Swedish.”

  Nailah laughed as she pulled on her flat, Grecian-styled sandals. “Why in the world would you think Swedish? She has bright red hair!”