Eviskar Island (32 page)

Inside the plane, Jack took his seat and stuffed his backpack under the seat in front.  In a couple hours, he’d be home.  Now
that
was a surreal thought.  Since leaving the shores of Eviskar, he’d travelled for two days through rough seas, landed in several major airports, bid farewell to three others who’d become his closest friends and was now minutes from sitting at the kitchen table in his parents’ house.  Soon he’d be talking about his experiences abroad—most of them anyway.  He’d also be back at school in only two days.  Strangely enough, that last thought appealed to him.  He needed to return to a routine; he needed some time to decompress.

              Jocelyn’s question about his educational future was stuck in Jack’s mind.  It was a subject he hadn’t contemplated for several months now, but he would have to address it soon enough.  He closed his eyes and relaxed.  First and foremost, he decided, before dozing off, he would plan a trip to Corpus Christi, Texas.  After that he’d turn his attention to college.

              Something bumped Jack’s shoulder.  He turned and froze.  It was the woman in the ball cap.  “Pardon me,” she smiled, as she took the seat across the aisle, “I can be such a klutz.”  She paused for a moment.  “Was that your girlfriend back at the gate?”

              “Why yes as a matter of fact,” came his guarded response.  He was shocked by his own admission.  It was true; she was indeed his girlfriend.  He’d never had a steady girlfriend before.

              “Well, I don’t mean to pry, but I hope you don’t have to wait twelve years before you see her again.”

              He smiled, “I’ll try not to let that happen.”

              “She’s very pretty, and I can tell she really likes you…a lot.”

              The plane had finished taxiing to the head of the runway.  Their conversation came to a halt as the pilot revved the engines and they accelerated down the tarmac, headed for Cleveland.

*  *  *

              Outside, it was a beautiful fall day in the city.  Rain the day before had yielded to cool air and few clouds.  Although days had been long at Eviskar, the Sun was usually never more than a weak, fuzzy ball attenuated by steamy-grey cloud.  Here, it shone in all its glory, warming the skin and fighting off the morning chill.

              Despite the uplifting effect of the weather, the two bone-tired younger members of the Eviskar team were in somber spirits.  This was it, they realized.  Jocelyn and Jack were in the air, winging their way home, and in less than an hour the next Empire Express would transport Marcie and her folks to Albany.  The four travelers sat on a bench outside Madison Square Garden.  Spencer’s mother would meet them soon, down below in Penn central Station, but until then they had an hour to kill.  Steven bought coffee, and, according to prior arrangement with his daughter, broached the subject of Spencer’s foot.

              “Let me be blunt, Spencer.  Marcie warned me that it might be difficult for you to talk about it, but I’d like to take you on as a patient, assuming you’re willing.”

              The boy looked down, but eventually met Steven’s gaze.  “If you think you can help, then, yeah, I guess, but I don’t know if I can afford it.”

              “I wouldn’t think of asking for payment.  If anything, Gail and I are in your debt.  Marcie told us all about how you braved that hazardous climb up the cliff and found a way to summon help for Debbie and the other students.  She also told me how good a friend you’ve been to her.  Please allow me the satisfaction of treating your clubfoot.  I must warn you, though; it will require a tremendous amount of effort on your part.”

              “How so?”

              “First of all, I try to avoid surgery if at all possible.  We’ll use casts and a brace to gradually force the foot into proper alignment.  It will involve some discomfort and it will take time, but if you’re willing to try, let’s do it.”

              “Do you think it will help?”

              Steven hesitated before responding.  “I’ve never treated someone your age before.  We’ll just have to see what happens.  But I am sure of one thing, and that is—it can’t hurt to try.”  He smiled, “your condition isn’t that uncommon, Spencer.  A number of famous athletes have successfully overcome talipes and gone on to have very distinguished careers.”

              “No offense, Dr. Van Woamah, but I’m a basketball playah.  That takes a lot ‘a runnin’.”

              “Troy Aikman had talipes.”

              “Really?!  The quarterback?”

              “Yes, and Charles Woodson.”

              “Don’t forget about Mia Hamm,” Marcie added.

              Spencer was incredulous.  “Those are supastars.  I mean, they aren’t just good…they’re the best!”

              “I agree, and what undoubtedly has contributed to their success is their ability to overcome injury and adversity.  The character those individuals displayed in dealing with this birth defect foreshadowed the tenacity they would later exhibit to become the best in their professions.  Look, Spencer, you can’t necessarily expect to become an NFL star or a World Cup champion as a result of this treatment, but I believe there is a good chance that your quality of life will improve.  I’ll be back in the city for a conference the week before Columbus Day.  Why don’t you come back with me to Albany the following weekend and we’ll assess your condition.”

*  *  *

              Under the Garden, inside the bowels of Penn Central Station, a large woman dressed in a colorful robe, exited her train and walked majestically from the platform.  Smiling a million dollar smile, she greeted those around her, strangers all, and received appreciative nods and smiles in return.  Some people have the ability to make friends at a glance, to immediately put at ease those around them.  Yolanda Bowen had this gift in abundance.  As she turned heads, and as her radiance permeated the throngs of commuters in the station, she kept a watchful eye out for her son.

              She soon spotted him standing by a bench in the middle of the concourse, conversing with three other people.  “Spencer, my boy, welcome home!”  She floated across the room with arms spread and engulfed the young man in an enormous bear hug.  “And, Marcie, welcome to you as well.  Spencer tell me all about your adventures.  Goodness me, I need hear all about it.  But first, I must have a picture.  Come, all of you, Mr. and Mrs. Van Wormer—all together now, and give me a big smile.”  She took several photos and then paused while she recalled and examined each one in the camera’s LCD display.

              Spencer whispered to Marcie, “Before we left, I set up a Facebook account for my mom.  When I went online in the airport in Reykjavik, she already had more than a hundred friends ‘an she must ‘a posted twice that many pictures.  She’s hooked bad.”

              “So, I guess this is it,” Marcie said solemnly, “our train leaves pretty soon; we have to get to the track.”

              “Yeah, I think we betta go too.”  In a bold show of affection, Spencer took hold of her hand.  Blushing deeply, he changed the subject, “I can’t believe that in less than a week I’ll be writin’ one ‘a those essays—you know, ‘what I did last summah’.”

              His words barely registered.  Marcie’s heart was pounding.  She tried to act casual, but she was now focused on the one thing that mattered—the touch of Spencer’s hand on hers.

              Throughout the last weeks of their archeological project, she and Spencer had been sharing smiles and glances and trying surreptitiously to spend time together without drawing attention to their budding relationship.  Of course, Jocelyn knew what was going on.  Her feminine intuition had picked up the strong vibes of attraction radiating from the two soon-to-be High School sophomores.  Jack knew of their close friendship as well, but his main focus at Eviskar had been on his archeological duties…and on Jocelyn—not necessarily in that order.

              Marcie gave his hand a squeeze.  “So, um, what are you going to say?”

              “That’s a good question.  I guess I can’t mention the ‘malarkey’ that almost got me killed.”  They both laughed.  Marcie gripped his hand more tightly.  “An’ as far as the dig goes…” he shrugged, “I bet my teachers’ll be real interested in that axe head they found.”

              This was it, she thought.  It was now or never.  On impulse, Marcie leaned forward and gave Spencer a quick kiss on the lips.

              A camera flashed nearby.  Yolanda Bowen sported a huge grin.  “What a handsome couple,” she cooed as she scrutinized the image.

              Spencer rolled his eyes.  “C’mon ma, give us some privacy heah.”  Turning to Marcie he said, “That’ll be on Facebook by the time you get home.  Sorry.  Unless I hack her account, there’s nothin’ I can do.  But, speaking of Albany, I guess I’ll be up there soon.”

              Tears again formed in Marcie’s eyes, but she maintained her composure.  “You mean ‘Small-bany,’ that hick town up north?”

              “That’s the one.  I hear it’s a really nice place, though.  Maybe I’ll start spendin’ more time up there.”

              “And I should spend more time in the city—find out how you city folks live.  G’bye, Spence.”  She gave him a long hug that lasted through three camera flashes.  She then shouldered both of her packs, took her dad’s hand in one of hers and Gail’s in the other.  “C’mon, parental units; stop pretending you didn’t see that kiss and let’s go home.”

FINIS