Dear Aaron,

We are almost back to the mainland, but not the U.S. I don't know whether to be happy or anxious because I don't know what's going to happen with my legal issues. You, doodle bug, are a great cure for overthinking. Taking care of you isn't work, it's a Godsend. You occupy me so I don't get too far ahead of myself.

I talked about my concerns to Uncle Jack when he asked me what was wrong. He reassured me he would be there if any challenges came up now or later. He thinks we will get a break from my problems from before the crash because of the trauma we went through. I hope he's right.

You have no idea what's going on. You wake happy, you nap, you sleep so well. You're spoiling me. I used to think I wouldn't have babies. I did want a husband, babies, and home, the whole American dream thing plus horses and dogs. That dream had died out with my being on the run for 3 years.

I grew up in the mid-west and loved the farm life, seeing a close family, my one friend, Tommy's, and the traditions they had. But, I was always on the move with an uncertain future in my early and mid-twenties before the crash. Those days are over.

I have a sliver of hope now that things will come together and you're a part of my new dream that's forming.


We made it to Sumba Island. Before that, because of The Lie, Penny's boat brought us almost 3,000 miles across the Pacific. It took almost week. They dropped us off several hours from Sumba in another black raft, but this one isn't round. It's a regular raft and could fit a small outboard engine.

I still don't get why rafts are black here. It's hot as hell to sit on black rubber in the sun and difficult to spot by sea or air for rescue. It's not good for fishing in my mind because bare skin sticks to it in the scalding sun, but this beauty, keeping us alive right now, would probably be a prized possession to a villager and his family. Orange or yellow rafts make more sense to me.

When tracking and hunting with Grandpa Sam, especially deer season, we wore orange vests. It was so the other hunters could see us and not shoot or mistake us for wild game. Deer can't see the orange versus other colors. Can any fish see colors here like yellow or orange? I will have to look it up someday so I can tell you.

Sitting on rafts gives a person a lot of time to think.

The raft is in good shape, but looks like one that might have washed up on the shore of the island Jack will say we were stranded on. It's from Penny's boat with no identifiable marks and made to look weathered with some netting inside. It's another part of The Lie. Her crew is well paid and loyal to her. She assured us they won't reveal anything, especially if they want to work in the boating industry. She has a lot of money and influence. We won't know the name of the island we came from, only how long it took to get to Sumba and direction. Oceanic can do the guesswork and figure out easily it's Membata.

Membata is large enough, uninhabited with a small jungle, fresh water source, coconut laden palms, and mango trees to sustain people if needed. There is some small wild game there and, of course, fish. We stopped there a couple of hours to see where we were officially stranded on. A few of Penny's crew and your Jack and Sayid found a place to set up a makeshift beach camp with a few shelters using palms and branches.

They started small fires in two separate pits surrounded by stones that will die out soon in case anyone from Oceanic would ever want to check it out. There was random debris that had washed ashore and they salvaged pieces to complete it. It's not perfect, but just enough to look like we were there along with a lot of footprints. Things could have always washed out to the ocean. Jack said details are important.

Membata is the same as the other island with basic survival amenities but that's where the similarity stops. It doesn't have the strange features, perils, smoke monster, the fact it's almost impossible to find, random castaways like Danielle or people held against their will like Juliet. It also doesn't have Others, people wanted to kidnap survivors to either expand their cult due to no birth rate, use or experiment on people, mainly women, all led by bug-eyed Ben Linus, who is an intelligent, pathological liar. He's a con artist with followers and that's thought alone is scary. I think he's got some sad, pathetic background that made him that way but don't care, especially after being his captive and a bargaining chip to get Jack to operate on him.

It's all starting to become surreal in my mind, like a horror and mystery book with a dash of love, lots of teamwork, violence, adrenaline and tragedy upon tragedy. It's more twisted than the Island of Dr. Moreau. No more bad island for you, little one. Not even over my dead body.


Only the six of us from the airplane crash including you, little bug, went to Sumba. We reluctantly said goodbye to Desmond, Frank and Penny. I have grown fond of all of them. Penny wants a baby just like you but you broke the mold. You are one in a million.

I couldn't thank her enough for the help, support and companionship. She saved our lives and has become a good friend. She's one of us. How can ever I thank her for that? She told me to hush and gave me a hug and kiss goodbye. She and Desmond will be in touch and hopefully see us someday after things settle down. It gave me a warm feeling, then I realized our family has expanded. She cares deeply about us. We all have ties that bind us all together in a good, non-confining way.

I placed you into her willing arms before we set off so she could get her Aaron fix. Maybe you sprinkled some baby dust on her. I have a feeling she and Desmond will be married before too long. If not, they will be life partners. Their own story is amazing.

Penny shared some of it with Sun and I to pass some time. We pressed her to tell us. We needed to hear a happy ending with them back together now, to laugh, sigh and let our eyes ooze tears of pleasure because of their reunion, especially Sun. It helped us push back the horrors that were keeping us awake at night.

I can't look at Desmond the same now. I know why he calls Jack "Brother" but didn't know he was fired as a monk for drinking their fine, limited production vino. That story made me laugh so hard tears came. That's when they met, a newly fired monk loading crates of the wine he didn't drink into her vehicle in need of a ride back to town.

After we cast off in the black raft, Jack and Sayid rowed to get us there with wide, broken planks, the perfect paddles for castaways. Hurley took turns so each could rest. It was a hot, sunny day with only a small ocean breeze. Sun felt sick from the boat ride and sat on the side. We all got some sunburn except you.

I sat in the back on the floor of the raft in the only spot of shade I could find. I kept you covered in light airplane blankets to protect your delicate, white skin and soothed you, playing with your fingers and feet. I prayed the bottle we topped you off with would last until I could feed you again.

The native people on Sumba spotted us and helped us get onto the beach, dragging the raft up the sand. They can keep it, bless them. Sayid helped me and you get out of that raft. It took a few minutes to get my land legs and I held you close, my most precious cargo. You were wide awake. Sun joined us as we staggered up the beach, her arm around my other side. I swallowed hard and stopped, looking back across the endless water and flat horizon as they moved ahead slowly. I was thinking once more about who was left behind.

Jack put his arm around me, causing me to turn. I looked up at his reassuring face and let him lead me and you forward, his arm around my waist supporting me, supporting you. The villagers were nice, offering food, drinks, shelter and chairs. Someone called the local authorities and they contacted the U.S. Coast Guard and Oceanic Airlines. Uncle Jack gave you tiny amounts of bottled water by wetting a clean cloth for you to suck on.

The first arrivals to meet us were Oceanic representatives, but it took hours. Before they arrived, they instructed the authorities to take us to be examined and get any medical treatment needed. We would also need to be cleared before any travel to the states, starting with Hawaii. They don't know about the lack of tropical diseases and healing properties of the place we left.

I wouldn't let anyone except Jack examine us, little bug, especially me. I was nervous about anyone looking at my body since I was supposed to have given birth to you about 5 weeks prior.

Jack saw it on my face. He let them know his credentials and said I would be more comfortable with him since he had been my treating physician by default with the birth and aftercare. He explained I was post-partum and didn't want anyone to see my body like this.

The medics agreed heartily and understood. I think it helped immensely that we were in Indonesia. It's a diverse area with different religions and a male-dominated, conservative culture, but it may have created slight confusion. They referred to me as his woman after that and must have assumed he didn't want anyone else to examine "his woman and baby". I can see that from their perspective because he didn't examine our other friends.

After that, I was no longer Kate or Miss Kate. I was "your woman" if they said anything to him about me or "your son" about you. They mainly spoke directly to the men, rarely to Sun and myself. I said nothing and wasn't offended. I am guessing unwed mothers aren't looked on favorably.

If Jack hadn't spoken up for me, I would have ended up being examined by the mid-wife that examined Sun. They did that because she was female, not knowing she was pregnant.

A mid-wife would have known I hadn't given birth to you so we dodged a bullet there. The men were examined by the medics in turns.

Jack cleared you after a thorough baby exam. He said you were perfect, making me smile a little. I already knew that. I had examined you for anything, even any sign of a bump or rash, when bathing and changing you. You didn't even have bug bites on your perfect skin. He handed over the medical forms he filled out for you, doodle bug. Then, I handed you over to Hurley for my exam.

Jack examined me privately in a small room with the door and binds closed, going over my injuries and doing his exam maybe a little too thoroughly, but sounded professional in case anyone could hear. He said he had to check me everywhere for any hidden injuries, rashes, or issues. In reality, I know he did, but I have no complaints about his bedside manner that time.

He was gentle, running his long fingers over my back and spine, arms and legs, checking while admiring the trail of goosebumps he left. I will stop there. After he was done with his exam and tour, he reassured me with his loving, warm brown eyes and gazed deeply into mine. He held my face in his large hands, his thumbs resting on my cheekbones. Our foreheads touched and I sighed deeply, breathing him in and feeling safe.

I dressed as he filled out the forms for me. He ordered formula for you immediately, telling them I am having trouble nursing due to dehydration and some malnutrition. He winked at me before leaving the room.

The clinic had some baby formula on hand with small baby bottles and bottled water. Sun and I are both very lean and sinewy naturally plus she is expecting and I am supposed to be post-partum. We were advised to drink a high-protein, high-calorie twice a day and given containers with powder to mix in water. There was a little English on each container, but also other languages for directions and ingredients. Where is the nutrition label and content label?

I looked at Jack and handed the container to him to examine. He started to ask the medic questions about it. I am not drinking something unless it's tasty and I know what's in it. If it's a shake, it better be in a cup with big, golden arches on it.

I leaned over to Sun and asked her if she can read any of it. Her container is on the counter next to her. She said the label is written in an Austronesian Language, Chinese and English. Her face was blank. Mine is too.

I looked around carefully. The men are respectful but steal quick glances our way, especially at her. Sun is pale and beautiful, like a white blossom, even when she is inanimate. I whisper my observation to her about the male attention she's getting. She whispers back that some people practice polygamy and its expected she should be married at her age. A man might show his interest in her, even if they knew she was newly widowed and pregnant. She spoke in a flat tone. If that came up, she said she would enlist Uncle Sayid as her sentry.

Hurley and Sayid didn't stray far from us. Sayid has an acute sixth sense and must know that too. He doesn't miss anything and stood beside Sun, shifting his body to give her a little privacy. We are almost done here and you, my sleepy baby, have finished your bottle, been burped and your diaper is clean.

Someone brought out a pack of small diapers for little bottoms like yours. Uncle Jack took both of the protein powders containers, apparently approving them, and the bag with your baby stuff and we headed to a resort in a large van owned by the facility. Jack is going to need to use a lot more than logic to persuade me to try that powdered crap. I would prefer real food.


We met our Oceanic representative and escort, Karen Decker, at the resort later. We were already checked in and given full access to their store for anything we need. It was small but we each find something. We have shirts and long skirts for Sun and myself with sandals. The men find shirts and long shorts.

I asked the concierge for 0-3 month onesies and they turn up within the hour in our room. At least we are clean, ate we could stomach, and had time to rest before she finally arrived. My hair is wet but it combats the heat. I have it twisted up and around tightly to make a bun and put a hair band over it twice to hold it. Being clean is priceless.

Karen brought an assistant, but we don't interact much with her except to fetch Karen. Karen is professional, sympathetic and no nonsense. That being said, she did take time to genuinely admire you and hold your little hand in the beginning during introductions. I think she maybe a mom herself. If not, she was just another fan of yours, little man, captivated by your sweet face.

She apologized briefly on behalf of Oceanic and said the airline will take care of us, providing anything we need and don't hesitate to ask. She was to the point and kept her word. She's the caring face of Oceanic sent, a woman in her 40's, attractive with authority and keeping a tight rein on things. She had other people working for her and was in contact with them on her cell phone. She must be trained in crisis management among other things.

Karen handles us with kid gloves, gentle without being demeaning, respecting that we must have been through hell and back with some level of trauma. It's implied but unspoken that Oceanic assumes all blame. I overheard the term PTSD whispered between her and her assistant.

They are assessing us. Any idiot could see it. That being said, I haven't heard Jack argue or comment negatively about her yet. She's good at her job. She hasn't ruffled his feathers or tread on his need for control and information. He feels a need to keep tight reins on everything too, to protect everyone.

The luxury resort is called Nihi Sumba. It's a beautiful facility with lots of amenities. I don't use them. All I care about is food, shower for me, bath for you, a crib and comfortable, large bed.


Oceanic now has our information and is working with the state department already to get us new credentials and a birth certificate for you so we can enter the U.S. Your paperwork says you are at least 3 weeks or 4 weeks younger. You are officially almost 5 weeks old, so I can say you are my baby. That's how old you have to be to have been in my tummy long to be born healthy. That means your birthday had to be moved.

To be honest, I don't know the exact date you were born except it was over a month after the September 22nd crash. I think it was the beginning of November. I'm not sure. We didn't have a calendar to keep track of things. Lack of calendars was an issue in more than one way on the island for women. I won't elaborate on that.

Now you are a December baby. That would make Mommy Claire go nuts. She loves horoscopes and birth charts. Detailed ones are based on the year, month, day and hour you were born and what time zone. We are missing most of that information for you. I hoped she would understand. Any details Jack gives have to be airtight so nobody gets suspicious. You are small and lean, so around 5 weeks is reasonable as far as I know.

He chose December 5th, 2004, telling Oceanic that was his best guess of your date of birth with trying to keep track of how long we were there. The number 5 is significant to him and now to me because of what he told me when we first met. I see it tattooed on his sculpted upper left arm when he's wearing a sleeveless top or is shirtless. I will tell ask him to share the story with you someday when you are old enough learn from it.

Karen asked only the basics about what happened and will talk to us more after we are rested. I have a feeling she doesn't want to know everything, only enough to satisfy her bosses and the media. The more harrowing our stories, the more money we will get from them.

Hurley is smart about that. He commented the airline will "pay up big time" and don't want us to get an attorney and sue them in court. Uncle Hurley has a lot of money and owns companies and is invested in others. Payment for our pain and suffering means you and I have a chance for a fresh start together somewhere nice. There will be no long work hours for me with you in daycare or at some babysitters. That's if I could even find a job with my legal issues still in the air.

Jack wouldn't let that happen. When I brought it up to him at night, whispering my concern in bed so I wouldn't wake you, he wrapped both arms around me and said I don't have to work. We will live with him at his condo. He was firm, as if the decision was made. He gave me a look I couldn't refuse with those eyes of his and how he looked at me. Nobody has looked at me that way, exploring the depths of my mind and soul. I didn't know what to say. My mouth fell open a little and eyes watered.

I'm not used to anyone taking care of me in the real world.

I gave him a long, tender kiss, tasting his upper lip first and mouth before he pressed in for a deeper one that there's no return from. My kiss was my way of letting him know how I felt. He told me he loved me. That phrase has rarely left my lips so I show him instead. His words made me feel warm inside and the love I felt for him bubbled up to the surface. His arms, wound around my back, released a bit while his hands slid down my side to my waist first, making me feel warm all over, right down to my curling toes.


The next day, Karen Decker requested to talk to me briefly about my legal issues. I brought you and we went into a small conference room. You are my good luck charm and keep me calm. I insisted on Jack being there. Karen spoke respectfully to me with reassurance no action would be taken in the immediate future against me. Oceanic was working with the state department and legal system.

In consideration of the ordeal I've suffered plus having the baby in dangerous and primitive conditions, there will be a reprieve of some sort. Jack was right. She said it doesn't mean there won't be any legal charges in the future. It's just on hold. The U.S. Marshals will not resume pursuing me and she confidentially added she thought it was overkill. I was presumed dead and have turned up alive with a newborn.

Karen didn't mention to me that she had already spoken to the other survivors, something I knew already since she spoke to Jack too yesterday and I got the calls afterwards. The coconut grapevine is still working. When she questioned them, treading lightly on the topic, they each scoffed at the thought I was dangerous and were firm about my good character. Every friend was willing to vouch for me and give written statements if needed. I was overwhelmed and am guessing she passed that information along to the authorities.

Karen reassured me nobody will show up with handcuffs. When she said that, I was listening but pacing back and forth, and bouncing you a little. You had hiccups and were trying to go to sleep.

My legs felt weak suddenly when she said handcuffs and I desperately needed to sit. Handcuffs or being tied up are among worst fears along with confinement. The roots go too deep and back too far to dredge up now or maybe ever. Jack took my shoulders and put me in a chair before my legs gave out.

He quickly took your sleeping body in one arm and said I needed something, a clear soda maybe. Karen left the room quickly to retrieve one and came back, apologizing for the shock. I couldn't control my body. My arms and legs were shaking badly. I broke out in a cold sweat and leaned over, burying my head in my hands to hide my face while a big sob tried to come out of my constricted throat.

Jack told me to take slow, deep breaths, rubbing my back with his one free hand. All the anxiety I have pushed away and down deep had surfaced and was starting to gush out. I hated myself for appearing weak but that word triggered something in my brain and my body betrayed me.

Jack asked for a break and if Karen would hold you outside of the room. She was surprised, but obliging. You were out by then. You can really sleep through anything, doodle bug. After she left the room and went to the lobby, Jack drew me into his lap and let me cry.

His arms held me tight as I wrapped my smaller ones around his neck and tried to catch my breath between sobs. I don't know how much time passed. Eventually calm stole over me as he stroked my hair, back and alternately held me tight. I could feel my heartbeat and breathing matching his and it was soothing.

I pulled back, my face a disgusting, wet mess, and he wiped it, starting with my nose. He handed me tissues from a box that had appeared on the table so I could blow my nose. He dabbed my eyes but I couldn't look at him. I was a wreck and mortified. I was supposed to be strong and was sitting on his lap, bawling like a child over one word, one image, memories. I hung my head in shame, trying to breathe normally and regain control. He kept saying "Hey" and finally tipped my chin up and over to look at him. He could feel my acute embarrassment.

What Jack doesn't know is that I hardly ever cried growing up, then stopped altogether when I was on the run. I trained myself to be hard on the outside.

It can be a cruel world and nobody cared about my tears so I hid them in my heart.

That island changed things somehow or my friends did. I was turned inside out. The experiences there kicked down the dam, bit by bit and turned me into a person that cries. Jack was a big part of that with his pushing me for truth and information to find out more about me.

In hindsight, I cried from love, sorrow, fear, remorse and sometimes in anger at myself or others on the island.

The tears were never self-pity. They just made me feel weak when I needed to be tough for so long, especially around men. I didn't want to give them the satisfaction, even if I was hit, and showed them anger instead, a great mask for sad or hurt feelings.

All I saw was love and tenderness as he looked at me, examining my face and eyes intently, his thumbs wiping under my eyes while his fingers were gently supporting my chin. His eyes were damp too. He gave me one of his sweet Jack smiles. I wrapped my arms around his neck again slowly, this time with no tears and let out a huge sigh. He held me, rocking me slightly and commented that was what he wanted to hear and not to be ashamed of crying. It's a lot for one person to deal with.

He told me my tears don't make me weak, they show how much I care. He said he cries too. Does that make him weak? It gave me something new to think about. This man I love knows my past, what really happened and a little about my childhood, just enough to understand why I did that to Wayne. Despite that, he's still here, holding me, even after that outburst. I didn't even have to tell him. He read what was going on in my mind and cared.

In that moment, I felt relief, even with legal issues on hold. I felt connected. I felt acceptance. It was mostly from him in the moment, but in the back of my mind, I was touched at what my friends had said to Karen. I wouldn't ask them to do that.

This was all so new and raw, having people stand up for me, wanting to help me. It was hard to accept after a lifetime of protecting and taking care of others including my own mother, but not getting it back.

I did it anyways because I cared.

We reconvened with Karen after your Jack made me eat something and drink to settle my system. He also made inquiries with Karen about a pharmacy. I didn't talk to him about it but I am guessing he wants something for me, something I probably won't take.

I don't like taking medicine. I can't be medicated and take care of you. His arms are enough.

Karen joined us both when Jack invited her back in. He took you from her and thanked her. She said it was her pleasure and I could tell you already had her wrapped around your tiny finger.

Karen inquired about how I was doing and put her hand over mine to pat it briefly. She smiled softly and said Oceanic has a blind eye as far anything legal concerned. They wouldn't engage with the media to talk about it. I would be treated with the same respect and care as the others and Oceanic will make sure I am compensated the same as my fellow survivors, with no judgement.

Jack had a few questions. I let him speak. I was feeling a bit shell shocked.

My only question was if there were any requirements from the legal system once we return. I told her I had you, sweet boy, and don't want any unpleasant surprises. I need to take care of you.

She suggested staying around the Los Angeles area with the you once we get there and find a great attorney to plan ahead. The attorney will know who to contact if I need to travel out of area or state to avoid any issues. They could also prepare me ahead of time if there are any proceedings.

It was sound advice, but I had no plans to travel with you in the U.S. or leave Jack.

Love,

Mommy Kate