“So, tonight’s the big night!” said Bowie while he and Jack played a video game in the living room.

“What do you mean?” asked Jack, though he knew exactly what Bowie was talking about.

“The shell!” said Bowie.

“What shell?” answered Jack sarcastically. “Oh come on! You really don’t expect anything to happen, do you?”

“Maybe the shell will give us the winning lottery numbers!” said Bowie. “You have to admit, a wee part of you thinks just maybe something will happen.” Bowie searched for confirmation in his friend’s eyes.

Jack turned away. “I don’t have to admit anything.” They heard someone at the front door. “It’s Mom!”

“Why is she home so early?” asked Bowie.

“No idea. Better get into the attic!” said Jack. Bowie practically sprinted into Jack’s bedroom closet and up the attic stairs, pulling the collapsible steps behind him.

Jack turned off the video game and hid one of controllers under the couch. Mom, is that you?” he called out.

“Come help me, Jack!” she said through the front door.

Jack opened the door. His mother was on crutches with her ankle wrapped up in an ACE bandage. “What happened?”

“Grab my stuff,” she replied. Jack took her purse and car keys and helped her onto the couch.

“The idiot janitor was mopping the floor and forgot to put down the caution sign. I turned the corner and my foot slipped right out from under me, sprained my ankle. It was so embarrassing. They forced me to get an x-ray then sent me home with crutches.”

“Can I get you anything?” asked Jack.

“I’m thirsty,” she replied.

“Do you want some water?”

“You know what I want,” she said. Jack knew. She wanted a glass with ice. While he went into the kitchen to get it, she pulled out a half-full bottle of vodka from the coffee-table drawer. She also pulled out a bottle of pills from her purse.

Jack came back and set down the glass with ice on the coffee table. He noticed the pills. “What are those for?”

“They’re pain pills, silly! Your mother isn’t a spring chicken anymore. Sprain ankles hurt!” She filled the glass. 

“Just be careful, okay? You know, mixing—”

She cut him off. “I’m a certified nurse for God’s sake. I think I know my way around pills!”

Jack changed the subject. “How long will you be out of work?”

“They told me at least a week, maybe longer,” she said.

“A week?” said Jack distressed. Bowie would have to hide out in the tree house the whole time his mom was laid up and Jack would be nothing short of a man-servant, waiting on her hand and foot. He’d have a hard time sneaking away.

Emily could tell Jack wasn’t happy about the prospect of her being home for an extended period. It hurt her feelings though deep down, she knew she was the cause of it. “Do me a favor, Jack. Go into my bedroom and on the dresser is a small box. You can’t miss it. Bring it here, please.”

Jack complied. On the dresser was a small box tied up with ribbon. He brought it back into the living room as his mom was taking a slug of her drink to wash down four pain pills. “What is it?” asked Jack holding up the box.

“Your destiny,” she said severely.

Jack was shocked. “My destiny?” Maybe she was in collusion with Devova and the whole estranged relationship situation was completely staged to test his character. He had a vivid imagination.

Emily held out a few seconds longer before laughing. “I’m just kidding, Jack. The expression on your face … you look so serious! It’s your birthday present. Open it.” His mom smiled sweetly and ran her fingers through his hair. Jack was taken back. He couldn’t remember the last time she had been affectionate with him.

“Well, aren’t you going to open it?” she asked.

“But it’s not my birthday yet,” said Jack.

“A technicality. Your birthday is three minutes after midnight. We’ll probably both be asleep by then. Just open it,” she insisted.

Jack opened the gift. Inside was an antique, albeit functional, compass attached to a sterling-silver chain.

“It belonged to your great grandfather,” she said. “When I was a little girl, he often took me sailing. He was very funny and very smart. He even taught me how to read nautical charts and navigate using this compass.”

“That’s so cool!” Jack rarely heard his mother speak about her childhood.

“I was actually pretty good at it, but I’ve forgotten. That was a long time ago. Anyway, I’m sure he would have wanted you to have it,” she said and placed the chain around Jack’s neck. “He was a good man, just like you.” She gently kissed him on the cheek.

Jack hugged her. “Thank you, Mom.” She hugged him back and held him tight. There were many things they both wanted to express to each other but words failed them in the moment. A hug would have to do. Emily let go of Jack and wiped the tears from her eyes. “It’s getting late. You should probably go to bed.”

Jack got up to leave but a thought made him pause. “Maybe we could go sailing sometime.” As soon as he said it, he felt stupid. “Or we could do something else together—it doesn’t have to be sailing.”

Emily looked at her son with soft eyes. “I’d like that, Jack.”

He knew they would never go sailing together but for a brief moment, he allowed himself to hope. “I love you, Mom.”

“I love you, too, Jack.” Her eyes teared up again and she waved him away.

 Jack went into his bedroom closet and pulled down the attic stairs. He looked in on Bowie who was crashed out on the air mattress and decided not to wake him.

He set the alarm for midnight, figuring he’d need a few minutes to fully wake up before holding the nautilus shell to his ear. “This is nuts!” he said to himself out loud. His grandmother was probably crazy just like his mom said, but why would she show up after all these years? If she really was crazy, wouldn’t she have been institutionalized by now? Had she really waited decades just to give him a shell? Without knowing much about their falling out, he couldn’t draw any concrete conclusions. Jack laid his head down on his pillow and drifted off to sleep.

The alarm went off at midnight waking Jack with a start. “Whoa!” He was so disoriented at first, he didn’t know where he was. After a few breaths, he got his bearings and looked at the clock—12:01am. Only two more minutes until his birthday. Jack reached under his bed and recovered the wooden box. He pulled out the shell and gave it the once over. The clock read 12:02am. “I still think this is crazy,” he said to the shell. “Oh, great, now I’m talking to shells.” Jack held the shell up to his ear and heard the familiar echoing sound of ambient noise. He waited for twenty seconds and nothing. Then it happened.

The echoing turned into a static-like vibration, then words were spoken, though Jack couldn’t tell if he was actually hearing words or thinking the words: “31 degrees, 24 minutes, 25.58 seconds north, 24 degrees, 32 minutes, 9.08 seconds west, lunius 21, 2:13 post meridian.”

Jack grabbed a pen and paper. The phrase repeated and he wrote it down verbatim. The static-like vibration returned, transitioned back to the echo of ambient noise and that was it. The message had been delivered.

He was pretty sure the first part was nautical coordinates. He would have to check Google maps. The second part was “lunius 21.” Jack had heard “lunius” before. He’d have to look that up as well. The third part, 2:13 post meridian, was the time of day, 2:13pm. So, maybe the middle part was the date. Jack got up and went to his laptop. Just as he suspected, lunius was Latin for “June.” June 21st then, the summer solstice. He typed in the coordinates. The map took him to the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. Nothing there, not so much as a tiny atoll when he zoomed in. “Middle of the Atlantic Ocean, June 21st, 2:13pm. It’s official, I’m crazy.” He closed his laptop and returned to bed.

Jack took off the compass which was still hanging around his neck and laid it on top of his nightstand. He quickly fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

***

The alarm went off at 6:30am. Jack woke up hard. Bowie came down from the attic rubbing sleep from his eyes. He had a small present wrapped in crate paper and twine in his hand and gave it to Jack. “Here you go then.”

Jack took the gift. “What’s this for?” 

“Your wedding, genius, what do you think?” said Bowie.

Jack laughed. “You didn’t need to do anything for my birthday.”

“I wanted to. That’s why they call it a gift and not a chore,” responded Bowie.

Jack opened up the present. It was a Ghostrike Fixed Blade Deluxe tactical knife with ankle holster. “This is awesome! Thank you!”

“I figured you wouldn’t get a lot of weapons for your birthday this year, so I thought a knife was a safe bet,” reasoned Bowie.

“Can’t argue with you there,” said Jack. “Hey, how were you able to afford this?” Jack knew better than to accuse his friend of stealing it. Yes, Bowie had pickpocketed a wallet to get on the cruise ship and shoplifted some food when he was crossing the country—but only when he was absolutely starving and couldn’t find food anywhere else. Still, he was curious as to how Bowie acquired the funds. 

Bowie sensed Jack’s suspicion. “There was a bloke in town who was cleaning out his shop last week and paid me to help him. Made a few bucks.”

Jack held his finger to his lips for Bowie to be quiet. They were talking louder than usual and he didn’t want to wake up his mom. A moment later though, he sensed something was wrong. “Wait here, I’m going to check on her.” He went into the hallway and listened for any noise. It was quiet. Too quiet. He continued walking into the living room where his mom was passed out on the couch. The empty vodka bottle sat on the coffee table along with the opened pill container. Only a few pills remained. His mom looked pale as a ghost. Jack gently touched her cheek. She was cold to the touch. “Mom?” He pulled his fingers away. He put his ear by her mouth. She wasn’t breathing. “Mom!” he shouted.

Jack grabbed her cell phone lying on the coffee table. His hands were shaking but he managed to dial 911. Bowie ran into the room when he heard Jack yell. “What’s wrong?” he asked. He looked over at Emily and knew it wasn’t good.

Jack didn’t answer him. He waited for the emergency operator to pick up. After what felt like an eternity, a woman’s voice came on the line. “911, what’s your emergency?”

“My mom isn’t breathing!”

Bowie pushed back the coffee table and gently lowered Emily to the floor.

“What are you doing?” Jack yelled at Bowie.

“I’m going to try CPR,” replied Bowie. He was a Scout at one time and had earned his first-aid merit badge.

“Does she have a pulse?” asked the emergency operator.

“Check for a pulse!” said Jack. Bowie checked for a pulse at her carotid artery. He shook his head. There was no pulse.

“She doesn’t have a pulse. My friend is performing CPR. Send someone quick. Please!” Jack gave her the address.

“We have paramedics in route,” said the operator.                                                                                                               

Bowie kept up CPR until the paramedics arrived ten minutes later. Jack held the front door open for them as they rushed in. Trailing them in the driveway was Jack’s grandmother. “Emily?” asked Devova.

Jack was speechless. He returned to the living room but left the front door open.

He watched as the paramedics injected her with adrenaline. Nothing. They tried the defibrillator several times but couldn’t get a sinus rhythm. The paramedics looked at each other grimly. They quickly loaded her onto a gurney though her body was limp and lifeless. The junior paramedic put an ambu bag over Emily’s mouth and squeezed it regularly to force air into her lungs.

The senior paramedic addressed Devova. “Are you relations?”

“I’m her mother,” she confirmed.

“We’re taking her to General.”

“Is she alive?” asked Devova in a quivering voice.

“We’re not getting any vital signs,” said the senior paramedic.

The paramedics loaded Emily into the ambulance. Jack was overwhelmed with feelings. Devova stood quietly, tears in her eyes, looking at Jack.

Bowie was exhausted after administering CPR. “I tried to save her, Jack. I really tried.”

Jack smiled at his friend. “I know you did. Thank you for that.”

Devova drove them all to the hospital where they waited in the emergency room. After forty-five minutes without a word spoken, Devova broke the silence. “Did the shell give you a message?”

Jack shot her a contemptuous look. With everything going on, he had completely forgotten about the shell. “I don’t want to talk about it right now!” he said curtly.

Devova pressed on despite Jack’s mood. “It spoke to you, didn’t it?”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it,” repeated Jack. She looked at him and waited. “All right, yes,” said Jack disdainfully. “It spoke to me.”

Bowie looked surprised. “Well, I’ll be a rusty nail!”

“What was the message?” asked Devova.

Jack’s eyes filled with anger. “I don’t want to talk about it right now!”

“It’s important!” insisted Devova.

“More important than your daughter?” countered Jack.

Devova didn’t have a response. Whatever message Jack received from the shell was more significant than he could possibly imagine. If she pushed him though, he may resist doing what needed to be done. She was also sure Jack distrusted whatever the message was. It was one thing to receive a message from a shell. It was an entirely other matter to follow it.

After several minutes of deafening silence, Jack finally gave in and told her the message in its entirety.

Devova’s eyes lit up. Bowie saw her reaction and said, “You know what the message means, don’t you?”

Devova was just about to answer him when the doctor walked in.

“Are you Emily’s family?” asked the doctor.

“I’m her mother,” said Devova. “And this is her son, Jack. And a close family friend, Bowie.”

“I’m sorry to tell you this, but Emily is gone,” said the doctor. “She had probably been deceased for several hours before she arrived here.”

Even though they had suspected as much, it was still shocking to hear it confirmed. The doctor continued, “She likely had a bad reaction to combination of Oxycodone and alcohol in her system.” He paused to let them assimilate the news. “Take whatever time you need. When you’re ready, Valerie at the nurse’s station can help you make arrangements. I’m very sorry for your loss.” The doctor left them.

Devova legs collapsed underneath her but Bowie caught her before she hit the ground. Her only child was dead. She felt responsible and sobbed uncontrollably. Bowie helped her to a chair. Jack still didn’t trust his grandmother but he shared her pain. He walked over and hugged her hard. She hugged him back and together they cried. Bowie put his arms around both of them.

Jack had never been through the death of anyone close to him before. Everything happened so fast, he initially felt numb to it. He was preoccupied with a million thoughts running around in his head on the way home from the hospital. What was he going to do? What would happen to him? Should he look for his father? Was his father even alive? Was his grandmother going to ask him to live with her? Where did she even live? What would happen to Bowie?

They arrived back at the house and went into the living room but no one sat on the couch were Emily had been found. “I need to talk to both of you,” said Devova. She sat on one of the chairs. Jack took the other and Bowie grabbed a chair from the kitchen.

“We’ll listen,” Jack said warily.

Devova looked relieved. “That’s all I can ask.”

“Does anyone want some nachos before we get started?” asked Bowie.

Jack rolled his eyes. “Really, Bowie? Nachos?”

“I have a feeling we have a lot to talk about, is all.” said Bowie unapologetically.

Devova capitulated. “We haven’t eaten all day. It may be easier to hear what I have to say after a little nourishment.”

“One plate of nachos, coming right up!” said Bowie.

The nachos were very comforting after the day they had been through. After a few bites, Devova bluntly said, “We have to leave as soon as possible.”

“The school year isn’t over yet,” said Jack. “And what about the funeral—”

Devova cut him off, “There’s no time for any of it! In a few weeks, none of it will matter anyway.”

Jack was furious. “Mom’s death won’t matter?”

“That’s not what I meant!” she said exacerbated. “I can’t explain it all!”

“Where do you want to go then?” asked Jack.

“To our family house in Maine,” she answered.

“You just want to leave Mom’s body here?” Jack put his foot down. “I’m not doing that!”                                                

“We can’t afford to waste any time, Jack. I’m going to call the airlines and get us on the next flight out of town,” she said.

“One slight problem,” chimed in Bowie. “I can’t fly.”

“Why not?” asked Devova.

Bowie thought about a polite way to say it. “I may be sort of wanted.”

Devova was taken aback. “Sort of? Wanted for what?”

Before Bowie could respond, Jack interjected, “Never mind that! You drove here, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” she confirmed.

“So, we’ll drive back in a few days,” concluded Jack.

Time is crucial!” insisted Devova.

Bowie had an idea. “You both could go now and I could catch up with you in a few weeks.”

“That might be best,” said Devova.

Jack closed his eyes for a few moments to focus. When he opened them, he looked directly at his grandmother. “We’ll make arrangements to have Mom cremated. If it takes a few days, so be it. Just last night, she spoke fondly of sailing with her grandfather. We’ll spread her ashes at sea. I think she’d like that. Also, I’m not coming with you unless Bowie comes, too. So we’re driving.”

This is not what Devova wanted. If Jack knew what was at stake, he wouldn’t require such concessions, but to burden him with any more at this point might have broken him. And Bowie was critical to this whole thing. Devova didn’t know how or why, but she felt it intuitively.

“Very well,” answered Devova.

It took four days to get Emily’s ashes. During the wait, Jack tried as best he could to clean up the house and garage. It wouldn’t make much difference if he was just going to abandon everything but the process provided him with some sense of closure.

It was a strange feeling for Jack to up and leave the only home he had ever known to go with his grandmother, whom he barely knew, across the country. Thank God for Bowie he thought to himself. Bowie made him feel like everything was going to be okay. At the same time, he was concerned for his friend. Even though Bowie seemed up for the adventure, Jack didn’t want to put him in a dangerous situation. For all he knew, his grandmother was some kind of psycho and she’d drive them all off a cliff on the way to Maine!

Jack set down a box of old photos in the garage and turned to his friend. “Are you sure you want to do this? You’re taking an even bigger leap of faith than me. The shell didn’t speak to you. I may be going crazy but I don’t expect you to follow along.”

“Didn’t you know?” asked Bowie.

“Know what?” wondered Jack.

“I was born crazy,” remarked Bowie.

Jack shook his head. “That much I know.”

Next Chapter: Maine