Bright sunlight slanting in through the gaps between the branches wakes me in what feels like early morning. I’m disoriented as I open my eyes, pull myself to a sitting position.
I’m lying on the dirt floor in the tiny shack. Through the cracks in the crude walls I can see the forest, can hear the humming of insects, the whisper of the breeze through the trees.
What the fuck just happened to me?
Furrowing my brow, I let the images tumble over me, each one coming faster and faster. I’m dressed in the clothes that I wore to sleep in last night, and when I hold out my left arm, I see only the raw skin of my scars—not swirls of dark ink.
Disappointment is a crushing wave of depression that threatens to flatten me. It can’t have been a dream. I won’t let it be.
The woman—the castle—the magic.
It was too real—too right.
“Face reality, Vardalos.” Wincing, I crawl to my hands and knees, struggling to fight back the encroaching clouds.
The dream, or visions, or whatever it was... it was probably just my body and mind’s way of getting rid of the extreme stress that I’ve been under for the last six months. I feel safe here, in the middle of the southern Atlantic ocean, and so my subconscious has gone for broke.
Sitting back on my heels, I inhale deeply and try to get a handle on myself. And that’s when I see it—the flower, still miraculously fresh and whole, lying on the ground.
The flower that I tucked into the golden ribbons of her hair.
With a whoop I grab at it, clutching it tightly in my palm, not even caring that I’m crushing it. Part of me wonders if I’ve become completely unhinged when I scramble to my feet and hightail it back to the beach, and the rest of me just doesn’t give a shit.
I know now. I know she’s coming.
Running past the stacks of my supplies, I race straight into the water. The plane is more or less where it was last night, rocking back and forth on the rippling surface of the water.
“Joely!” I bang on the door with enthusiasm. “Open up! We’ve got to go!”
I rap once more for good measure, then dunk beneath the surface of the water, clothes and all. When I surface, a sleepy, owl-eyed face is blinking out at me.
“Mr. V?” Joely looks puzzled and sleepy and kind of like an adorable kitten. Everything looks better today, I think with a smile. Even irritating know-it-all pilots. “Mr. V, what happened? Are you okay?”
“Never better.” Grinning up at her, I shake like a dog to dry my hair. She shrieks when droplets spray across her, then crosses her arms and scowls.
“This better be good. I am not a morning person.” She mutters crossly as I grab hold of the plane and hoist myself in, dripping wet. “Especially not after the night I had. Jesus, Mr. V. What the hell’s gotten into you, big guy?”
“I need to get back to Miami. Just for a few days.” Just long enough to make some calls, to set the wheels in motion.
This island will be home to a resort after all... it will just be a little bit different than I’d originally intended.
I know, though I have not a shred of rational proof—I know that this is meant. It wasn’t a fantasy, it was a revelation. An awareness filling me, a knowledge I can’t explain and don’t need to. My life has a purpose now.
The island knows what you need...
Blearily Joely rubs her hands over her eyes, studying me, probably debating whether or not I’ve gone crazy or have been replaced by one of her Bermuda Triangle aliens. I grin as, finally, she crosses to the cooler in the small cargo area of the puddle jumper. Fishing out a can of cola dripping with condensation, she cracks the top and chugs.
“I need fifteen to do my checks, then we’ll fly.”
She’s true to her word. Fifteen minutes later we are soaring out of the lagoon and into the bright blue morning sky.
We fly in silence for a few minutes. I don’t mind—my mind is racing.
“What happened last night?” She asks finally, turning her attention from the sky for a brief moment. “What changed?”
I’m not going to recount my night. It’s personal. “You wouldn’t believe me.”
Joely laughs softly and I see something in her expression that makes me wonder if she didn’t have her own epiphany last night. The way I’m feeling now, I’d believe it.
I stretch, settle back in my seat and watch the island shrink in the distance.
“Eden. I’m going to call it Eden.” My own paradise.
She chuckles again. “Okay, boss. Not super original, but I like it anyway. It fits, I think. Definitely looks like an Eden.”
Boss...
I watch her handle the plane with utter confidence, thinking about how comfortable I feel around her. Like I know her, like I always have. I owe her. I trust her in a way I don’t think I’ve ever been able to trust anyone else, even before everything changed. Hell, I’m not sure this would have happened, if I’d have ever made it to Eden without her. Suddenly I have another one of those gut feelings I’ve decided never to question again, and the words fall from my mouth, sounding right as I say them.
“Joely? I have a proposition for you...”