Chapter 2
EVENT -04:48 Hours
Jewell Island, Maine
The wind rose gently, nudging the campfire’s spectral plume toward Alex. He squirmed in the collapsible aluminum chair and turned his head as heated exhaust from the dying fire washed over him. The gust intensified, focusing the column of sparks and gases in his direction for a sudden, uncomfortable moment. Just as suddenly, the smoke drifted skyward on the confused breeze.
The mosquitos returned within seconds, causing Kate to mumble a few obscenities and wave a futile hand above her head to disperse the pests. He took her other hand and squeezed, finally catching her gaze. The soft firelight illuminated her gentle face and exposed the first genuine smile he’d seen since they left Boston yesterday.
“He’s really not that far away. We can visit him any time we want,” Alex said comfortingly, kissing her hand.
“I know. He’s just really on his own now,” said Kate, returning her eyes to the fire.
They had dropped Ryan at Boston University in the middle of the afternoon, after dining al fresco in Winthrop Square, a late-summer tradition they had enjoyed since Ryan and Emily were in grade school. The definition of al fresco dining had changed over the years, as the children matured. Lounging as a family, on blankets spread over the trampled grass, had inevitably yielded to scarfing down pizza and subs on the outskirts of the park. Still, they never failed to take time out of their annual Boston pilgrimage to visit the iconic Harvard Square gathering place and its eclectic assortment of musicians and vendors.
This year’s visit had been slightly awkward, if not tense for the family. Ryan had been anxious to be ferried across the Charles River, but Kate was in no hurry to surrender her firstborn. She prolonged the stroll through Cambridge, pushing Ryan’s barely tested patience to dangerous levels. Alex could sense the strain, and had spent most of the day implementing one subtle intervention after another to keep them from exploding before the inevitable outburst at the foot of Ryan’s dormitory building.
Kate remained silent for most of the drive back, punctuated by Alex’s occasional failed attempt to distract her from the significance of the afternoon’s farewell. Ryan was truly on his own, free to follow the path of his choosing. Every phone call that flashed his name would flood them with a mix of joy, apprehension and ultimately relief. Any conversation from this point forward could instantly morph into a defining moment for Ryan. Anything was possible. He had taken the first steps toward escaping his parents’ gravitational pull this afternoon. Ryan couldn’t understand this yet, but Kate and Alex had effectively released him, which is why Kate’s somber mood was nearly impenetrable.
“He’s a smart, cautious kid. Just like his mother,” said Alex.
“He has a wild side that worries me,” she whispered.
She was right to a certain degree. The events surrounding their experience during the Jakarta Pandemic had drawn out aspects of his personality that might have lain dormant for years, fueling a confidence that more resembled recklessness at such a young age. He didn’t have the maturity to temper the confidence that came with saving his father from a brutal psychopath at age twelve and standing guard over their house as the world recovered from the pandemic. He never crossed any lines that landed him in trouble with the school or police, but he was far too comfortable walking the line. Ryan was destined for something important. Kate just wanted to make sure he survived until that point.
“ROTC will keep him in line. There’s only so much crazy shit you can get away with enrolled in that kind of program,” he whispered back.
“Is that supposed to make me feel better? We’ll be at war with Iran by the time he graduates.”
“We were supposed to be at war with Iran last year—and the year before that. Nobody’s going into battle any time soon. He’s Navy ROTC anyway,” said Alex.
“He’ll switch to Marine-Option the first chance he gets. He was placating me with that song and dance about the navy. So were you.”
“Why are you guys whispering?” interrupted Emily.
“No reason. Has anyone seen a meteorite? We shall remain at the mercy of these mosquitos until everyone has spotted at least one. That’s the tradition,” said Alex.
“It’s meteor, Dad,” said Emily.
“What is?”
“A meteorite is a meteor that lands on Earth. Up in the sky, they are called meteors.”
“It could be a meteorite,” Alex argued.
“Maybe, but not until it officially hits the earth,” Emily insisted. “That’s why they call this a meteor shower.”
“Ethan, do you agree with Emily’s scientific assessment?” said Alex, trying to draw him into the conversation.
“She’s rarely wrong about anything,” said Ethan, with a hint of humor.
“I know someone else that is rarely wrong,” said Alex, glancing at Kate.
“Rarely? More like never,” said Kate.
Ethan laughed at their exchange, which comforted Alex. This had been the first year that they had been able to convince Ethan to join them on the sailboat, or any family trip for that matter. The idea to adopt his brother’s children quickly fizzled when Ethan and Kevin had arrived in Maine. The sudden death of their parents during the pandemic had firmly attached them to Alex’s parents. The situation was complicated, especially in the aftermath of the pandemic, and the Fletchers didn’t see any reason to disturb what little stability and family dynamic the children had left. Alex’s parents remained the legal guardians, eventually adopting Ethan and Kevin in 2015, when they could finally obtain the proper paperwork and affidavits from the State of Colorado.
They lived with Tim and Amy Fletcher on an isolated farm near Limerick, Maine, thirty-two miles west of Scarborough. Alex had purchased a large parcel of lakefront property and built a custom-designed, sustainable home for them, with the idea that the farm would serve as the Fletcher family stronghold if another disaster or pandemic ever hit Maine. Alex and his clan spent at least two days a week at the farm in the summer, helping with the massive garden, which required constant attention. Over the course of five years, the two families had turned the twenty-acre parcel of land into a self-sustainable family compound.
“Is Kevin looking forward to starting middle school?” Kate asked.
“He seems pretty excited,” said Ethan.
Alex met her glance, but didn’t hold it. Their relationship with Kevin had been strained since he arrived with his brother in Maine, playing a major role in the decision to abandon the original plan to adopt their orphaned nephews. Kevin had been openly hostile toward them from the start, which had been an understandable reaction to the loss of his parents. Alex didn’t need to read the latest “post-pandemic” psychology articles to understand what Kevin might be experiencing. He was well versed in the broad spectrum of emotions and symptoms related to post-traumatic stress disorder.
A brilliant streak flashed across the dark blue sky, just above the tree line to the northeast.
“There’s the first one!” said Alex.
“Where?” Kate snapped. “You’re full of shit. I was watching the whole time.”
“You see, kids, that’s why you shouldn’t drink underage. You lose your ability to see meteors,” said Alex.
Emily looked at Alex. “Mom isn’t underage.”
“Really? She doesn’t look a day over twenty to me,” said Alex.
Kate slapped his shoulder. “Your dad—Uncle Alex, is truly full of—”
“Don’t say it, Mom!” yelled Emily and Ethan at the same time.
“I meant twenty years old in the dark. In broad daylight you’re clearly thirty.”