by C. W. Trisef
Ret told her everything. Through his chronicles, he took her from Tybee to the Midwest, then to New England and finally to the far North. He explained his newfound ability to control wind and all forms of energy, even demonstrating it to her by bending the rays of the rising sun and tuning in to a radio station. Paige was most impressed by such prodigious power, and she even taught Ret a thing or two about the science behind the aurorae. Then Ret dove into the tale of Stone’s change of heart, which inevitably led to the true account of Helen’s demise.
“So that means Lye might still have it somewhere,” Paige thought aloud.
“Have what?” Ret asked.
“Mom’s slip of paper,” she answered. “The one that has the molecular structure of the mysterious water written on it.” Ret had never considered that before.
“Maybe Stone went back to his house to look for it,” he kidded.
“Where is Stone?” Paige wondered, searching around.
“I don’t know,” Ret admitted. “He came across the creek with me last night, but I haven’t seen him since. He has to keep a low profile, now that Lye’s after him.”
“Oh, Ret, I’m so glad you told me what really happened to Mom,” Paige said. She took the news very well, which was to be expected since it put somewhat of a happy twist on an otherwise tragic ending. “She did it! She figured it out! Way to go, Mom!” Paige shared her mother’s indomitable spirit. “You’ve got to tell Dad.”
“I wanted to,” Ret stated. “That’s one reason I brought Stone back with me—so he could tell him in person. But your dad didn’t give us a chance.”
“I’m sure he’ll come around,” Paige hoped.
“Well, I’m not just going to wait around for things to blow over,” Ret said. “I don’t have time for that. I’ve got an element to collect.”
“You mean you want to go to Antarctica without Dad?” Paige wondered.
“Want?” Ret repeated with a hint of disgust. “You’ve got to understand, I never wanted to do any of this, and I still don’t want to.”
Paige was confused: “You don’t want to collect the elements?”
“No!” Ret said broadly, making the very idea sound ludicrous. “I just want to be a normal guy—go to school, get a job, have a family. How great would that be?”
“Then why don’t you?”
“I tried,” Ret said. “That’s the whole reason why I left. I tried to put it all behind me and start over in life, determined to do everything based on what I wanted. But I can’t do it. The Oracle won’t leave me alone. It’s like it has given me this calling—a mission—to find the elements.”
“I guess you’re just the chosen one,” Paige mused.
“No, that’s not it,” Ret quickly countered. “I’m no one special.”
“But you have the scars,” she pointed out.
“Everyone has scars, Paige—creases in their hands, wrinkles in their skin, birthmarks, talents, skills, yearnings. Each and every one of us has a calling to carry out—a mission to perform—but it takes effort to figure out what it is. That’s why I sit outside among the elements so much. I’m thinking, pondering, meditating. I’m listening to what they tell me, and I can hear them because I’m trying to hear them.”
“So the elements speak to you?” Paige asked with a tinge of strangeness.
“Yes—not really through words but feelings,” Ret tried to describe. “When they tell me something, it comes as a feeling. I’m not sure if it’s a real thing that you can reach out and touch, but it becomes real when it touches me as a feeling. And then I know, without a doubt, what I must do, no matter how difficult or unwanted.”
“Sounds hard,” Paige observed.
“It’s what I learned during my time in the wilderness,” said Ret. “My wants don’t really matter. The Oracle requires complete submission to its higher, nobler will.”
“Isn’t that what Lye requires, too?”
“Yes,” Ret submitted, “but Lye does it by force; the Oracle does it by invitation. It simply asks. It is patient. It works on you, tender but firm, hoping that your wants become aligned with its wants. That’s why I don’t believe in the idea of a ‘chosen one.’ We can all be chosen, but the choice is up to us. So if I am chosen, then it’s not because the Oracle has chosen me but because I have chosen the Oracle.”
Silence prevailed for a few moments. Ret’s words had moved Paige to introspection. There was something about watching the crest and fall of the endless waves that encouraged contemplation.
“So what’s my calling then, I wonder?” Paige looked inward.
“That’s what you have to listen for,” Ret answered. “Maybe it’s to go to school and become—oh, I don’t know—a doctor.”
“A doctor?”
“You could follow in your mom’s footsteps,” Ret brainstormed. “Maybe it’s to get married and become a mother.”
“Mom did all of those things,” Paige proudly pointed out. Thinking further, she suggested, “Or maybe it’s to help you collect the elements.”
“Maybe so,” Ret grinned. “Actually, I think I’m really going to need your help this time since it might be a while before your dad offers any assistance.”
“What did you have in mind?”
“I’d like to leave for Antarctica as soon as possible,” Ret detailed. “Like today.”
“Well, I don’t know how to fly an airplane,” Paige thought, “but Dusty might.”
“Who’s Dusty?”
“He’s Thorne’s son,” Paige clarified. “He could take us in his dad’s floatplane.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Ret agreed. “You’re helping me already.”
“And I’ll ask Ana to come, if you don’t mind,” Paige said. “You know, just to have another girl around.”
“Of course.”
“Should we ask Leo to join us?”
“You mean the person who was responsible for collecting the element last time?” Ret recalled. “And for saving my life?”
“Good point,” Paige understood. “I’ll try to have everything ready by noon. I think Thorne keeps his plane parked in the creek, so we can pick you up here.” Paige moved to leave.
“Wait,” Ret stopped her. She looked back at him, waiting for him to tell her a task they may have overlooked. But Ret just stared at her. The morning sunshine caught her large curls and turned them to gold. She was beautiful to him, but the expression on his face signified more than that. The gaze in his eyes bespoke of gratitude for her unfailing support and understanding heart. It was for him a source of strength.
“What?” Paige blushed.
“There’s one more thing I need you to do,” Ret told her softly. Then he slid his hand behind her head and kissed her.
Afterwards, Paige said, “That was easy.”
“That wasn’t it,” Ret informed her. “I need you to get the Oracle from your dad.”
Paige considered the assignment briefly and then replied with a romantic smirk, “Okay, but it’s going to cost you.”
Ret put his lips to hers again, a price he was more than willing to pay.
CHAPTER 17
THINGS GO SOUTH
While Ret was waiting to get picked up by the floatplane that would take him to Antarctica, he saw Leo walking toward him from up the beach.
“Hey, Leo!” Ret hailed as he drew near. “Ready to go?”
“Go where?” Leo wondered, obviously unaware of his upcoming travel plans.
“The South Pole,” Ret answered.
“Really?” Leo smiled, always thirsty for adventure. “Right now?”
“Right now,” Ret informed him. “Paige should be pulling up in a floatplane any minute.”
“So that’s why Peggy Sue told me to come down here,” Leo deduced, referring to the orphanage director. “Paige must’ve called her.” Then, realizing he wasn’t exactly outfitted for a polar expedition, he asked, “Is it too late for me to run back and get some pants?”
“Don’t worry:
I’m a human flame, remember?” They both laughed.
“So did you sleep out here last night?” Leo inquired, sitting down in the sand close by.
“Tried to,” Ret said.
“You should’ve come down to the orphanage,” Leo told him warmly.
“Thanks. The way things are going, I might need to take you up on that.”
“I’m sorry Mr. Coy doesn’t believe you,” Leo consoled. “I believe you—‘course, I didn’t see what he saw.”
“And that’s why this is so frustrating,” Ret confessed. “I’m sure Mr. Coy isn’t lying, but I know it wasn’t me who he saw. So it’s like he’s both right and wrong at the same time, and he probably feels the same way about my story.”
“Maybe you’re both right,” Leo suggested, “but neither one of you sees it yet.”
“I hope you’re right,” Ret sighed. “You were right the last time we talked together, you know.”
“Sir?” Leo begged reminding.
“Remember when I ran into you on my way out of town?” Ret asked.
“When you heard me singing?” Leo blushed.
“Yeah, well, you told me something at the end that proved to be prophetic. You said you hoped I’d find my light in the night, remember?”
Scratching his head in a bit of embarrassment, “Sounds like something cheesy I would say, doesn’t it?”
“Well, guess what?” Ret glowed. “I did! I found my light in the night—a lot of them, actually. When I went up north, I discovered the Northern Lights. It reminded me of your song, and I realized it’s not so much about lights but about people. After that, everything just sort of clicked. So thank you, thank you very much.”
“Glad to be of service,” Leo beamed.
True to her word, Paige pulled up in the floatplane just before noon. With a handshake, Ret introduced himself to Dusty and joined him in the cockpit while Leo wedged his way into the backseat with Ana and Paige. Wasting no time, they glided from the creek into the ocean and, after a thrust from the engine, took to the sky.
Although not a licensed pilot, Dusty was very familiar with the workings of his father’s plane. He set all instruments to the south, generally following the seventy-eighth meridian, and kept close to the coastlines, near enough to make an emergency landing but far enough away to prevent being identified. It was a familiar route—one that Ret had traveled before, at least in part, to find each of the elements thus far:
Earth had been hiding relatively close to home, just down the road called Bimini. Now, flying over the Bermuda Triangle, it was clear that the sea had fully swallowed the civilization known as Sunken Earth.
Fire had required a longer journey. After three stops in Peru—first to see the lines in the Nazca Desert, then to tour the mountain city Machu Picchu, and finally to float with the islands of Lake Titicaca—they arrived at Easter Island, which now was too far west for Ret to see if there was still smoke rising from its drowned-into-dormancy volcano.
Ore proved farther still, spanning two continents and jumping the ocean in between them. Although he could see neither the Amazon Rainforest nor the Sahara Desert, Ret knew the headwaters of the Amazon River were somewhere deep within the Andes Mountains that they were now following down the coast of Chile.
As for wind, well, Ret had already been to the top of the world, and now he was on his way to the bottom of it.
At this rate, Ret wondered if one of the two remaining elements might take him to the moon! But he figured this was unlikely, for each element so far was linked to one of the earth’s six landmasses—further proof that the Oracle’s purpose was to unify the entire planet. Element by element, the quest to cure the world was growing in complexity: the scars more puzzling, the places more far-flung, the secrets more subtle. But even though the requirements were escalating, so were the rewards: knowledge unknown by most, love proven in trial, friends in life and beyond. And so as Ret reviewed his travelogue this time around, he did so with more sweetness than sorrow—now seeing some losses as gains, now aware of the hardship that often accompanies true change.
Other riders were going through their own emotions, however:
Leo was shocked a bit when he learned their trip was being carried out without the knowledge of Mr. Coy.
Ana felt the burden a little heavier, knowing Coy and Thorne might be disappointed in her for not obtaining their permission.
Paige was the most unsettled of all, her guilt even greater for taking the Oracle from her dad without his consent. The snatch had been easily made; she knew where he kept it. Still, it bothered her.
As for Dusty, well, he didn’t seem too worried about things, not even his recent jacking of his father’s plane.
Ret tried to ease their concerns with reassurances of the validity of their cause. He explained to them the intricacies of the wind barb scar and rehearsed his experiences in the Canadian wilderness. He even demonstrated aspects of his power over wind and energy (which always seemed to do the trick when persuading others). He conjured a gust of air to propel the plane at a faster speed. He intercepted a satellite signal to broadcast footage from Santiago’s evening news.
Then, as they neared the tip of South America, Ret prepared to introduce his fellow passengers to the aurora australis. He knew the phenomenon was ongoing but that it was impossible to see amid the light of day. So he waited, watching the sun go down, keeping his eyes fixed on the horizon, until finally—
“There!”
All eyes fled to the windows. There, not much higher above them in the atmosphere, was the green glow of the Southern Lights. Just like its northern counterpart, the aurora danced across the starry expanse like a great, flowing curtain. With wonder in their eyes, the flight crew watched the bands of illumination come and go, powered by solar wind being blown from the sun. After a few hours of admiration, sleep overtook the backseat dwellers, but Ret was happy to stay awake with the pilot. Ret relished the lights. They energized him—enlightened him. It was enough to keep his attention all through the night as they passed Cape Horn and headed due south toward the heart of Antarctica.
When morning came, the daylight shuttered the brilliant display above but revealed an equally stunning sight below. The ground was white. In every direction, as far as they could see (which was quite far), the terrain was covered in snow and ice. They had made it to Antarctica.
The landscape of earth’s southernmost continent was unlike anything Ret had ever seen. Desolate and barren, it was a desert of snow instead of sand. The whiteness was so pervasive that it hurt to look at it after a while, blinded by the reflection of the sun on the ice. The plains were exceptionally flat, making the mountains seem unusually tall. Ret felt like a tiny mite atop a vast silo of flour.
“Looks cold,” Ana said with a shiver upon waking up.
“Well, this is where the coldest natural temperature on earth was recorded,” Paige observed. “A chilly 128.6 degrees Fahrenheit below zero.”
“Please tell me you’re kidding,” Ana hoped.
Paige shook her head and added, “What do you expect when ninety-eight percent of the place is covered in a layer of ice that, on average, is a mile thick?”
“How do you know so much about Antarctica?” Leo wondered.
“I had to do a report on it once,” answered Paige.
“What else can you tell us?” Ret asked.
“Well, let’s see,” Paige tried to recall. “The continent is about twice the size of Australia, has no permanent residents, and has been set aside by the international community as a scientific preserve.”
“So no one lives here?” Ana questioned, looking out at the vacant vastness.
“Not really,” Paige said. “Seven countries have made territorial claims and set up research stations, but their claims aren’t universally recognized, and most of the territories overlap anyway.”
“I wonder if any of them know there’s an element here,” Ret thought.
“Where exactly is this element?” D
usty asked, curious where to stop.
“I think it’s either at or really close to the geographic South Pole,” Ret replied.
After analyzing the plane’s positioning system, Dusty said, “Looks like we’re less than an hour away then.”
Everything was going smoothly until the plane’s communications system picked up a signal from one of the outposts on the ground.
“This is Amundsen-Scott Station,” a scratchy American voice was heard over the radio. “Please identify yourself.”
The five youth froze. All eyes were on Dusty. No one knew what to do.
“Maybe they’re talking to a different plane,” Dusty reasoned unconvincingly.
But then the radio repeated, “This is Amundsen-Scott,” this time with a bit less cordiality. “Please identify yourself.”
In a fit of panic, Dusty quickly turned off the radio.
“Let’s hope they haven’t actually seen us,” the young pilot wished, “but only picked up our signal.”
Even though Dusty had disengaged the radio in the control panel, there was still one sitting in the seat next to him: Ret. With his growing power over wind, Ret scanned the airwaves to find the former signal. He knew simply turning off the system didn’t solve their potential problem. It was a good thing he tuned in again, based on what he heard:
“Amundsen-Scott alerting all stations of an unidentified aircraft heading inland across the Transantarctic Mountains.”
“Vostok will attempt to establish communications,” Ret overheard a Russian person say, followed by a message meant to be picked up by the floatplane. Then, “Attempt unsuccessful.”
“Halley here,” came a British voice. “Shall we locate Mr. Zarbock?”
Ret only knew one person by that surname. He listened even more intently.
“Señor Zarbock is here at San Martin,” replied someone from the Argentine station. A few moments later, Lionel entered the conversation.
“This is Lionel.”
“Mr. Zarbock, this is Amundsen-Scott. We’ve picked up a small aircraft that refuses to identify itself. Your orders, sir?”
“Send out a scout immediately,” Lionel instructed with alarm. “If there’s still no cooperation, then shoot it down.” Ret’s heart jumped.