The Unimaginable

by Dina Silver

  “Do you do the laundry for your family?”

  He nodded.

  “And do you sometimes have to leave clothes behind because you can’t carry it all?”

  He nodded again, his expression filled with hope and gratitude.

  “I have an idea! I know an extra pair of shorts can be expensive, so I’m going to get you a pair to borrow. Maybe you could even leave them at school and change when you get here. That way you can have your proper uniform, and you won’t have to worry about someone taking them. How does that sound?”

  He stared at me for a moment. “Where would I change?”

  “In the bathroom, I guess. And we could keep the shorts in your cubby.”

  Alak thought about it. He crinkled his eight-year-old brow and scratched his little chin, then leapt forward and hugged me, nearly knocking me to the ground.

  I laughed. “Looks like we have a plan.”

  Once he was on the bus, I purchased a pair of shorts for him from the school office and wrote his name in the hem with permanent marker. Later that evening, I borrowed the Knights’ car and went to the mall to buy Alak a wagon—red, of course—so he could easily transport his clean laundry from then on.

  Chapter 5

  I planted roots in Phuket, grew my hair long, and managed to create a new life for myself. But it wasn’t always easy. I worked a lot but saved little money, and even though I’d made some close friends, I spent many nights alone in my room or roaming the docks and beaches near the marina by myself.

  Phuket is an easy place to meet people, just a tricky place to form relationships, because everyone is so transient. But I never questioned my decision, and I certainly never looked back. Devising my next leap of faith was always my top priority.

  But despite any early misgivings I might have had, I became truly happy in ways I’d never imagined. I laughed more, I walked taller, I shed the skin I was uncomfortable in and grew into my true self through and through. The Knights became like surrogate parents to me, and when they were out of town I looked after the house and took care of anything they ever needed or couldn’t do themselves. I loved my closet-less rented room and my two jobs, and with the help of the Knights and some of their local friends, I created a foundation called The Red Thread that provided school uniforms to local students free of charge.

  After four months at Tall Trees Academy, I was made assistant director. Caroline had not been out to visit me and didn’t have any plans to do so, but we’d Skype once a week and correspond through e-mail almost every other day.

  Everything about Thailand fulfilled me. The friendly people, the white sand beaches, the spicy foods, the vibrantly colored buildings, the laid-back atmosphere, and the flowers. Wow, the flowers. Every street in every neighborhood was brimming with plants and greenery and flowers in the most disarmingly bright colors I’d ever seen. All of these things that once hung in one-dimensional posters over my bed in Wolcottville were not only tangible to me now but commonplace. Part of my everyday life.

  But I couldn’t allow myself to become complacent again by slipping into the same routine with just a better view. When Skylar informed me that I’d accrued four weeks of vacation time, I made a decision that would uproot me once again—and nearly cost me my life.

  It was an early morning in December, just past sunrise, when I rode my borrowed bike down to the marina and posted a flyer on the bulletin board. It read:

  Crew Member Available

  I’m a 28-year-old American living in Phuket and looking to join a boat on a passage from Thailand to the Med. I’m willing to clean, take night watch, and perform basic boat maintenance. I’m also a decent cook. I have an exceptional work ethic and can provide references if needed. My schedule is somewhat flexible.

  Please contact me at jgregory1872@talltrees.edu.

  J. Gregory

  I stood for a moment and scanned some of the other similar notices tacked on the board. The water beneath me was calm and gently lapping against the hulls of the boats. There were two flyers posted by boaters looking for temporary crews, so I snapped a picture of both of them with my cell phone and then headed to school.

  “Excuse me.”

  My thoughts were elsewhere when I heard a man’s voice and then looked up from the dustpan to see him standing at my classroom door. His voice was strong and captivating, much like the rest of him.

  “Can I help you?” I asked, and we locked eyes. His smile made me catch my breath.

  “Sorry to interrupt. I would like to make a donation to the school.”

  I brushed some loose hairs out of my eyes. “How are you with a broom?”

  “Horrible.” He looked around. “But I’m a great storyteller.” He was older than me, late thirties maybe, with rugged good looks. I guessed it’d been at least two days since he had shaved. But he was tall and strikingly handsome, and his comment piqued my interest.

  “Maybe you’d like to come to one of my classes and share your stories.”

  He cocked his head and rubbed the back of his neck, then nodded. “Okay, you’re on.”

  My face lit up. “Really? I didn’t think you’d actually say yes.”

  “Then why’d you ask?”

  I let out a small laugh.

  He took a couple steps closer. “You look familiar,” he said with a knowing glance.

  “I do?”

  “Yes.” He crossed his arms. “I just said you did.”

  I shrugged and then leaned the broom against the desk and extended my hand. “I’m Jessica. I’m a teacher here, and also the assistant director.”

  He shook my hand, and I felt it in my heart.

  “Grant Flynn. Nice to meet you, Jessica. You’re American?”

  “I sure am. Sounds like you are as well.”

  He nodded. “How long have you been in Thailand?”

  “About four months.”

  “Have you been with the school the whole time?” he asked.

  “I have. It’s been a wonderful experience.”

  He crossed his arms again and studied me. “I see,” he said, not taking his eyes off of me. “Are you the right person to talk to about making a donation? I’d like to leave a check if that’s all right.”

  “Of course, yes.”

  He grabbed his checkbook from his front pocket and pulled a pen from behind his ear. His presence put my nerves on high alert, and the irony that I was behaving like a giddy schoolgirl was not lost on me either.

  “Thank you, Mr. Flynn. This is very kind of you.”

  Many visitors to Phuket would come by the local schools and leave donations. It was sort of a ritual for some, a way to leave their mark, a gesture of kindness for many boaters to visit the schools and bring supplies or leave a small contribution of a hundred dollars or so.

  “Please call me Grant,” he said as he wrote.

  I stood behind him dusting myself off when Sophie walked in.

  “Hey, mate, what are you doing here?” she asked.

  Both Grant and I looked at her, but he answered.

  “Told you I was going to come by this week.”

  “Right. You met my girl, Jess, did ya?”

  He turned to me. “I did. She was helping me decide whether my donation should be manual labor or monetary, but I’m going to stick with my original plan.”

  He tore the check out and handed it to me.

  “You two know each other?” I asked.

  “Grant’s been coming in to The Islander all week,” she said.

  He pointed at me. “That’s where I know you from.”

  I nodded. “Thank you,” I said, taking the check from him. “I’ll see that our director gets this today, and I look forward to hearing your stories.”

  I glanced down and nearly gasped when I saw the check was for five thousand dollars.

  “I appreciate it.” He touched my shoulder. “See you later,” he said to Sophie, then waved his hand over his head and walked out, allowing me to breathe freely once again.
/>   Sophie and I went to the window and watched as he got into his rental car.

  “You know him from the bar?” I asked.

  “He and his mate have been coming in every night. I’m surprised you haven’t seen them. They’re docked at the marina, both Americans.”

  “Niran had me on lunches last week.”

  “He’s a charmer, eh?”

  I nodded. “And quite generous.”

  “How generous?” she asked.

  “Five thousand dollars generous.”

  “Shit, no,” she said, and whisked the check from my grip. “Skylar’s going to freak. You working tonight?”

  “Nope. Not until Saturday.”

  “All right then. See you later,” she said, and left.

  I picked the broom up and saw the bus arrive, but all I could think about was Grant Flynn.

  When I came to school the next morning there was a package at the front door with my name on it. Inside were two DustBusters and a note that read:

  These are more my speed. I’ll see you in class tomorrow morning.

  Grant

  Chapter 6

  Grant arrived at school about fifteen minutes before the children. He wore a royal blue polo shirt with white cargo shorts and flip-flops. His sunglasses were buried somewhere in his mop of hair.

  “Good morning, Miss Jessica.”

  I waved. “Good morning. Thank you so much for doing this.”

  He nodded.

  I pointed to the small bookcase against the wall. “You can choose from any one of those if you’d like.”

  He looked bemused and walked over to the shelves, then turned back to me. “I was going to tell my own stories. Talk about my travels.” He raised an eyebrow. “If that’s all right.”

  My lips curled into a wide grin. “That’s wonderful, of course. They will love that.”

  “Good.”

  “What sort of travels have you had?”

  “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather be wowed along with the children?”

  I laughed. “Fair enough.”

  The kids filtered in and paused one by one like stunned, suspicious little robots, as they did every time there was a stranger in the classroom. Their eyes were glued to Grant while they quietly put their things away and took their seats.

  “Class, I would like to introduce Mr. Flynn. He’s visiting Thailand from the United States, like me, and has generously offered to spend some time telling us about his journey. Can we all welcome him?”

  A few of the kids mumbled a nearly unintelligible “Welcome, Mr. Flynn” salutation while I pulled up a chair for him in the front of the class. His legs were way too long for it, but it was all we had.

  For the next thirty minutes, he engaged them with his tales of traveling the world. He was a boater—a cruiser as they were called in the community—and was sailing around the world on his sailboat with just one other crewman. He painted his picture in broad strokes, so it was easy for the kids to understand and enjoy. He talked of elephants and dragons and orangutans. He told them about how he was caught in a terrible rainstorm once, and how he and his crew survived the rough waters. He told them about fishing and swimming and being chased by dolphins.

  I looked around the room, and all the kids were seated with their heads in their hands, elbows on their desks. Some had even come to the front of the class and sat cross-legged at his ankles.

  By the time he was through, he’d captivated every single one of us.

  I took a deep breath when he’d concluded his presentation and looked over at me. The applause was deafening.

  “Thank you so much,” I said as the kids were chanting for him to come back.

  “It’s my pleasure.” He waved at them and a few, including Alak, ran over and hugged him around the waist.

  “I’m going to walk Mr. Flynn out, so please take your seats and sit quietly until I return.”

  Grant and I stepped outside.

  “Thank you again.”

  “You’re very welcome.”

  “It seems like you’ve done this before.”

  “I have.”

  “Well, you really made their day. I don’t think I’ve ever seen them so intrigued.”

  He placed his hands in his pockets. “I think your expressions were my favorite of all.”

  I blushed. I had been equally enthralled. “I guess you could say I’ve always been interested in seeing the world.”

  He pursed his lips into a smile. “Glad I could help.” He touched my shoulder and then walked away. I was still staring at him when he turned back around and stopped. “I’ll see you around,” he said.

  Chapter 7

  Four days later I received an e-mail from someone who’d seen my note at the marina and was looking to bring on a third crew member for a three-week passage sometime in January. His name was Quinn, and we arranged to meet at his boat after I finished work that afternoon.

  I locked up my bike and checked his e-mail for his location. He said he was on J Dock, Slip 46, and his boat was named Imagine. Once I reached his pier, I turned and scanned the boat names until I found the one I was looking for. It was a sailboat, and a beautiful one at that. A young, good-looking guy was lounging on the stern, peeling an orange. He winked at me and said hello and was a little surprised when I stopped.

  “Hi, are you Quinn?”

  He was even more surprised when I knew his name.

  “I am,” he said and stood.

  “I’m Jessica.”

  He just stared at me.

  I lifted a finger and then pulled his e-mail out of my backpack. “I’m so sorry. I hope I don’t have my days messed up—”

  “You’re J. Gregory?” he asked.

  “Yes, Jessica Gregory.”

  He let out a laugh and rubbed his forehead.

  I put the paper back in my backpack and hiked the bag up on my shoulder. “Can I come aboard?”

  “Why not?”

  He placed the orange down, then reached for my hand and helped me onto the boat.

  I smiled. “Thank you for reaching out to me. I really appreciate the opportunity. Can you give me an idea of what you’re looking for, how long the passage will be, and where you’re headed?”

  He smiled and shook his head. “I wasn’t expecting a girl.”

  My shoulders dropped forward. “I see.”

  He sat but kept his eye on me. “No offense, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  “But it’s just me and one other guy, and, you know, I was thinking we’d find another . . . guy.”

  I nodded. “Well, you should have considered all of your options then, because I can do the job just as well, I promise you,” I said, and saw Quinn’s attention diverted to something else. I turned to follow his gaze and nearly lost my footing when I saw Grant Flynn standing behind me.

  “Well, hello again,” Grant said, leaning against the small doorframe that led to the rooms below deck.

  I smiled with every inch of my body.

  Quinn stood and cleared his throat. “This here’s the guy I told you about,” he said to Grant.

  Grant smiled at me. “The one who loves to cook?”

  “Yeah,” Quinn said, placing a toothpick in his mouth. “Wait . . . you know her?”

  I stood straight and adjusted the strap on my shoulder. “This is a pleasant surprise,” I said, waiting for Grant to agree with or expand on my comment, but he didn’t. I continued. “Look, you two obviously were expecting something—or someone—a lot more masculine than me. I get that. But I’m the one that put that flyer up there. I volunteered for this opportunity, and I promise you I can do the job as well as anyone. It’s not like I’m inventing the notion of a female crew member.”

  Grant and Quinn exchanged looks, and then Grant shrugged. “It’s your decision,” he said to Quinn.

  “Since when is it my decision?”

  Grant let out a small laugh and disappeared below deck without answering either of Quinn’s questions
.

  “Have a seat,” Quinn said.

  I looked back at where Grant had been standing and then sat down.

  “Here’s the deal: we’re trying to fill a temporary third crew position to go from here to Sri Lanka and then across the Indian Ocean through the Gulf of Aden, up the Red Sea, and into Egypt.” He paused. “How long have you been in Thailand?”

  “Four months.”

  “So I’m sure you’re aware that it’s a treacherous passage, and we need a third guy—er, person—because we need to have someone on watch twenty-four hours a day during that leg of the trip.” He thought for a moment. “I don’t know what your schedule is, but we’re not planning on leaving here until the first or second week of January. I don’t have a date yet, but it’s mostly dependent on the weather. Everything is.”

  I took a deep breath. “I’m not offended that you were expecting a man, nor am I going to leave without at least trying to convince you that I can do the job. I’ve seen many people over these past few months post classifieds to those boards, both men and women—some with experience, some without. I realize that as a woman with no prior sailing experience, I’m the least desirable choice. But as I mentioned, I’m a hard worker, a decent cook, a neat freak, a bit of an adventure seeker, and would be grateful for the opportunity. I hope you at least give me a second thought.”

  He clasped his hands together and gave me a nod. “I promise we will. And despite what the ol’ man says, it’s ultimately not my decision.”

  I looked over his shoulder, hoping to see Grant reappear, but he didn’t.

  “Thanks, Quinn.” I stood and extended my hand.

  “You’re welcome.”

  He shook my hand before I turned and hopped off the boat.

  “So how do you know the ol’ man anyway?” he shouted.

  “I teach at one of the local schools, and he came by last week to leave a donation and tell the kids about his trip.”

  He snapped his fingers as if what I’d just said gave him an epiphany. “Ohhhh, you’re the girl from the bar.”

  Chapter 8

  I’d never met anyone named Grant before, and I loved the sound of it. It made him seem mature and self-assured—and he was. I knew very little about him other than his name, that he’d donated five thousand dollars to our school, he was traveling around the world on a boat named Imagine, and he was a master storyteller. Which I also loved.