AFatBoyisMissing

by A Fat Boy Is Missing (v1. 0) (lit)

  Sarah looked around to see where they had come. It was a hard journey. The temperature had plummeted to well below freezing. It seemed years ago that they had tramped this very trail and enjoyed the autumn day. They had not come very far and were not even a quarter of the way home. The morning had passed and now it was in the early afternoon. At least the snowfall was getting less. Soon their trail would be swept away as the wind picked up and made little twisters and snow devils. Their passage would only be a memory and one that no longer marred the landscape.

  She then turned and looked in the direction that led eventually to safety. Something caught her eye. Just at the top of the horizon where the trail turned south a black object suddenly reflected a shining light as the sunlight broke through the layer of clouds. The storm was nearly over. That black object with the sparkle of sunlight was moving. It was coming towards them.

  She touched Jake on the shoulder and drew his attention to the object. He put down the radio receiver and suddenly waved his hat and shouted with all his might.

  The roar of the skidoos broke the silence that had surrounded them. But that noise was not unwelcome.

  Arthur and Jim arrived a few minutes later. They had come answering a message that was more telepathic than actual radio waves. But it didn't matter to Jake or Sarah because they were rescued.

  The two skidoos raced back to the hamlet and by the time they arrived, all the passengers were tired. Sarah felt her body was becoming frozen after the six hours of walking up to her knees in the fresh heavy fallen snow. Her jeans were soared and she was wet to the skin. Jake too, looked worse for wear.

  Molly was waiting for them. She had a warm dinner ready and her libation of spiced wine was a very good restorative.

  Sarah changed into dry clothing while Jake was taken back to his trailer and did the same.

  "That was magnificent. I don't think I've ever had a better meal!" Jake said. Sarah nodded her agreement and the colour of her face was now restored. "Molly, you, Arthur and Jim probably saved our lives. I'll never forget your kindness."

  The dinner was a success and by the time it was over both knew that they needed sleep even though the dinner had given them the energy to feel alive again.

  The next morning Sarah woke up in her own bed in the motel room. She had been having a terrible nightmare and thought she had cried out. She suddenly realized how lonely she was. There was not one holding her. There was no one who could chase away her fears. She looked at her watch and realized it was nearly noon.

  To sleep that late indicated she had needed sleep, but she didn't need the nightmare. She still felt the terror and saw the fight between two men, one was a stranger and the other was her father. What did it mean? Was it a figment of her imagination? All she knew was that if left her sick at heart.

  A knock on the door allowed her to put her nightmarish thoughts away.

  "Sarah, are you awake?" The voice demanded. Jake at least sounded like his old self.

  She stood up and opened her door.

  "I just woke up. You seem to be happy this morning. To what do I own this honour?" she tried to sound happy, but the nightmare had dampened her spirit.

  Jake could tell that she was troubled.

  "Get dressed! I'm taking you the most expensive and poshest restaurant in town!"

  She looked at him and saw his laughter.

  "Jake, you know there is only one restaurant in town and that's Molly's Place."

  He pulled her into his arms and before she could protest he kissed her with such force that she was lifted off the ground.

  "I told you that I would never lie to you. Molly's Place is the only place in town but it's far better than many places I've eaten in, even in the big city."

  She was still trying to recover from the force of his kiss. It did make her come out of her worries. It was as if an electric charge had shot through her body. It made her head swim and she knew that her face was now bright pink.

  "I should take a shower first, I was too tired last night to think of it. Stay here and I'll be out in a minute."

  The sound of the shower curtain being opened and the rush of water confirmed that Sarah was washing away the dirt and tension of the last few days.

  Jake sat on her bed and then lay back with his head on her pillow. He could still see the impression of her head and smell the soft perfume of her hair. He let his eye wander and saw a picture of a young couple on her small bedside table. If it weren't for the style of the clothing the girl could easily have been Sarah in the arms of a young man. For a split second he felt a stab of jealousy before his mind told him that he was looking at Sarah's mother and her father.

  The door of the bathroom opened and Sarah came out wrapped up in a large bath towel with her hair done up in a turban.

  She saw what Jake was looking at. "That's the only picture I have of my father. They make a handsome couple don't they?"

  The way she said that sounded a warning in Jake's mind.

  "Did something happen last night? Did you have a bad dream?"

  Was she was so transparent that anyone could read her mind? Or was it because Jake had a special skill? A special skill that included caring for her!

  "Yes, just before you came I woke up because I had a nightmare. It was terrible. I saw my father fighting with another man and all the while the scream of aircraft engines were all around them. It felt so real that it frightened me."

  Jake held her in his arms and softly caressed her. Then he kissed her brow, her eyelids, her nose and her mouth. She didn't resist nor did she want to. That feeling of being protected and cared for was what she needed.

  The bath towel wasn't designed to withstand the caress of such a forceful embrace. It fell to the floor, but for a few seconds all Sarah was feeling was the surge of electricity that was spreading throughout her body.

  Jake picked her up and carefully laid her on her bed.

  "You know that you make me feel like I'm the luckiest guy in the world. And I know I am, but I'm not strong enough to withstand the effect of your beauty. You had better do something about that before all hell breaks loose."

  She hadn't until he mentioned it really recognized that she as now lying on her bed naked. She reached up and pulled Jake down to her level and kissed him as forcefully as he had kissed her just a few moments ago.

  "I guess that's not playing fair. But I'm not making any excuse except that I'll tied the knot better next time. Give me a few seconds and I'll get dressed. I can see you are not up to the full effects of me in my current attire."

  He smiled and she continued "Nor am I!"

  Breakfast was really lunch and the two talked and

  enjoyed being together.

  "What are you gong to do now?" he asked.

  "Well, with the snow there is no chance of finding anything until spring. I need to go back to my dig site and continue working. I sort of left them high and dry. There is still so much to do. I'd love to find out more about the Roman figure and what it all means."

  "Yes, I think that would be good for you. I'm not sure you are up to the Canadian winter. Although you certainly pulled your weight these last few days. I'm sorry that you found more questions than answers. I told you I had some contacts who still owe me some favours. I'll look them up. I haven't been back to New York for a long time. Hell, I thought I'd never go back, but now I have a good reason. The Fat Lady is now removed from the water for the season. In six months or so I'll get back at it."

  "Are you really going to work on my mystery?" Sarah asked.

  "Sarah, you may not understand it, but over the last few days our relationship has changed. First you saved my life and then stole my heart. Even a few minutes ago you might have even given yourself to me if I was the sort to take advantage of a loose towel. But I'm not interested in a hot and passionate two-day stand. I'm part of the old generation who believes a man should court a special lady and show her how much he cares for her before anything sets off the fireworks."

>   She saw that he was serious and she knew that he had told her more in those seconds than what his words conveyed.

  "Yes, it's been wonderful. I shan't forget it. If you do go to New York, and if you find something how will you let me know?"

  "Well, I guess I could send you a telegram or use a smoke signal, but I'd rather tell you face to face. I'd rather be where I can see you, where I can smell the scent of your hair and watch the gentle action of your breathing. Would you mind if I came to you in the Yucatan? You might even make me into one of your labourers. Besides, I've always wanted to work on an archaeological site."

  He saw the slight colour creep into her face, the moment of indecision and the understanding of his words.

  "If you don't do that then Jake Dorchet you'll be charged by the Society of Indentured Servants for failing to live up to our contractual agreement. You don't want to see me when I get angry."

  "No, I wouldn't want to risk that. I'm still not used to the idea of holding you in my arms."

  "That's part of the standard clause for people who are falling in love," she said, as a blush filled her face.

  "Yes, that's exactly what I was thinking too."

  Chapter Nine - Yucatan 322 Ad Cast Ashore

  The long days and longer nights, sunstroke and the lack of food and hope caused the survivors to disbelieve their eyes when they first sighted land. Marcus had tried to record the days on this ship of death. He had estimated that the actual storm that had destroyed the small sailing ship had lasted about a week. On the gunnel he had cut marks. XXXVIII days while people waited for death were recorded in each mark. Each day prayers were offered to one God or another. Pleading for rescue was only answered in silence. Death came every third or fourth day as someone else gave in to despair, thirst or starvation.

  All the food had been consumed. It had lasted 30 days only because as the people died the meager remains stretched further. A spoonful of dried fruit or a barely eatable piece of dried fish didn't leave much in the stomachs of the adults and the last four children.

  The first sign of land was the growing number of sea gulls soaring round their derelict hull. Marcus and his wife tried to give the other passengers hope. The occasional success at landing a fish was a time for celebration. They cut up and eaten raw. Even the blood was drunk because water was at a premium.

  As the heat of noon was replaced by the breezes of late afternoon, the vision of the smudge of the land on the horizon grew. It was no mirage or false trick of light. Land was now filling the horizon. If the gods were with them they might strike land by morning.

  It is surprising how hope can rejuvenate souls and spirits that had long since accepted the inevitability of death.

  But there were now looks of hope and joy and all the other emotions that had long since been buried in the lifeless eyes and faces of those still breathing. When Marcus stumbled onto the beach he had with him only ten survivors. His children had lived. That was because he and his wife had given up their meager portions whenever they could. Another two children had lived. Two of his soldiers had lived. The sailing master's wife and one sailor made up the entire body of souls as they stepped onto a land unknown to the European countries. They had stepped onto the shores of America.

  Most of the passengers were mere skeletons and the gentle waves were more than they could endure as the waves knocked them into the surf and carried them up like drift wood onto the beach.

  The gods were finally looking with favour on the because only a few yards from the beach a tree laden with oranges provided their first meal in this new land. The richness of the pulp and the sweetness of the juice restored them more than anything else could have.

  Marcus saw the look of peace in Octavia's eyes. It didn't matter that they had lost nearly all their possessions. Some might still be retrieved from the semi-submerged hulk. But being alive when all thought they would die was a miracle in its own right.

  He looked along the beach that went on to the horizon. Where they were, was immaterial because he still had his wife, his son and daughters and with them a future could be achieved no matter where they had landed.

  For the first three days, the survivors were just happy to be alive. There was fresh succulent fruit and fish within easy reach. After 45 days at sea from the time the storm hit, this was paradise.

  Marcus looked from the shelter they had built. It was more of a sunshade than a real form of protection. A small stream provided all of the water they needed. He was thankful and gave thanks to his god. Octavia too had recovered and watched her children cavort with the other youngsters up and down the white sands.

  She knew her husband was worried. He was always thinking about "what if." All the stress and agony they had experienced in their ill-fated ocean journey had taken its toll. But here they were in a new land. Only God knew where they were. But at least they were alive.

  The other survivors too were recovering and the sailing master's wife had been nursing one of Marcus's soldiers. At first Octavia thought the woman was a chronic complainer, a shrew. But as Octavia got to know her she realized none of that was true. Her husband it seemed was always at sea and had women in many of the ports to comfort him. That was enough for Octavia to appreciate. If Marcus ever did that well he'd sleep alone for many a moon.

  Octavia wondered about Scripio and Augusta. Had they survived or had they become one of many who were lost at sea? She sent up a prayer to her Christian God. Surely, with all the agony and heartbreak they had had, something good would come out of this. She included everyone in their little centre of civilization and then she added Augusta and her husband to her prayer.

  Tiberius had suffered less than any of the others on board. Maybe being in fine physical form had helped. Marcus appreciated his humour and quick wit and together they spent many hours surveying their new realm.

  "What do you make of this Tiberius?" Marcus asked on their fourth day.

  "It's a rich land. There are fish and shellfish just waiting for us to grab them. The fruit is so good that I made myself sick on them yesterday. I've seen tracks of animals and saw a deer that is somewhat like the deer I hunted in Gaul. This could be a blessing. I needed to get away from all the strife and civil unrest in Rome. The Mongols too would give no man a chance except to feel cold steel in their guts. But Britain sounded like a damp place. I hate the cold and the rain. Here it's like our Mediterranean climate. This will do for me. The only thing that worries me is that we have seen no other humans. Surely man lives here as well!"

  Marcus thought that many of the things that Tiberius had said were true.

  "Yes, I'm disturbed about not seeing any natives. Maybe they are watching us or maybe this land hasn't any human life. We don't really know how far it extends. Maybe it's a large island in the middle of nowhere. Maybe, we are the first to discover it."

  The tenth day changed all that. If was the first time that Tiberius and Marcus had travelled more than ten leagues north along the shore. The game was plentiful and so too were the fruit trees. This was like the Garden of Eden that Octavia had told him about from her new religion. They had decided to walk parallel to the shore, but along the hills to see farther ahead. Marcus had been a soldier too and knew the need for caution and continued attention to what might lie ahead.

  It was the angry shouts and the dull rattle of metal against metal that warned them that on the other side of the hill a battle was happening.

  They crawled to the brow of the hill and looked down onto a deep valley. The scene that greeted them was a battle that was one-sided as a group of 10 or 12 men in feathered costumes and shields of hides attacked three men, two children and two women.

  It was too far to be able to recognize who was in the small group, but the flame red hair was enough for Marcus to recognize Augusta.

  "Come on, they are being overwhelmed. We don't have much time." Even as he said it one of the defenders was pierced with a spear and fell.

  An angry scream and a mad cheer from M
arcus and Tiberius warned the attackers and allowed the small Roman group to turn the tide with the help of Tiberius' sword and the spear Marcus picked up.

  Scripio had an arrow in his shoulder, but his face showed no sign of the pain. It was filled with gladness as the friends clasped each other in a bear hug.

  "So, I couldn't get rid of you my old friend!" Marcus said, as he grinned.

  "Well, you might have if you had waited another few minutes. Poor Artemis was killed just as you shouted from the top of that hill."

  Yes, it had been a close thing. Augusta had also jumped into Marcus's arms and showered him with kisses.

  "Oh Marcus, we thought you had died in that storm. Is Octavia with you?" She had feared to ask if she was alive because their own ship had so few survivors.

  "Yes, there are a few of us who made it, but now with finding you and your own small group, we have doubled our population. You must come back with us. Octavia will be mad with delight.

  Tiberius had removed the arrow from Scripio's arm. Fortunately it was only a flesh wound and Scripio waved it aside as being insignificant.

  "How did you come to be attacked? Marcus asked. "We have never seen any of the inhabitants of this land. I was hoping that they might be friendly."

  "That's what we had hoped for as well. We discovered that our presence was being observed on the third day of our arrival. By then we were recovering from our journey. We had even had time to retrieve some of our goods from our battered scow. She was a lot slower than your ship and our master was not too complementary about your sailing master parading the difference in speed. But having a hull covered with weeds probably saved our lives. Those weeds acted like an anchor and helped us stay afloat and not be battered around. What about you?"

  "Our poor vessel was torn apart and most of our fellow passengers and crew were lost when the waves smashed through the bulkhead. In truth, I didn't think we would live."