Epilogue II: Ages 22 & 23
The first year after high school whooshed by in a sparkle of newness. During the second, they settled in so well they decided that maybe adulthood just wasn't as hard as people made it out to be. Pope thought he'd fit in better at Stanford than on the island, but even though he had more intellectual friends now, he was still weird. JJ said thank God to that because if Stanford was full of 20,000 Popes, he'd go there and fuck himself blind. The third year, JJ's dad died and they got married. It wasn't until the fourth year that shit went bad.
Pope wanted to come home. They all reminded him he couldn't be a forensic pathologist with just a bachelor's. He claimed he didn't care, that he'd be a barista, or take over his dad's business or become a sandwich maker for Sarah B's shop, that he couldn't do another four long years apart for his PhD. JJ offered to move to California with him. Pope refused, four times. JJ showed up anyway, suitcase in hand, and fucked him blind for three weeks straight. After that, Pope settled into grad school okay, at least for a while.
Then Kie got her first village that was so far out she couldn't call home. That's how she had kept in touch with her boys all these years. She and Pope wrote long emails to each other, and she and JJ talked on the phone. But now, all she had was an email-to-telegram service that came once a week. JJ had to learn to email and he sucked at it. He wrote these tiny, misspelled staccato messages that made her feel more distant from him than if he'd sent nothing at all. Like there was nothing left in common between them in the whole world.
Pope wrote twice as long, filling her in on what JJ was up to, but that just made her feel like their third wheel. She already felt weird anyway, in the months since their summer wedding. Restless, distracted. Every moment in a new village used to feel like the most vivid, memorable thing that ever happened to her and now they all felt the same. Plus, she was basically dying of horniness. Her skin felt like it was getting old, brittle from not being touched, but when any of her new friends wanted to hug her, she had to clench her hands into fists not to keep from shoving them off. She wondered if she was going crazy.
She and JJ got in a fight about the tiny emails, and then he took some construction job on the mainland, and all but stopped writing altogether. The weeks came, the weeks went, and just…nothing. She lasted a month before she lost it. She messaged JJ that they had to talk and he sent three sentences back. Three.
I love you. Its fine. Call pope he'll explain.
Reading the printed email-to-telegram, she exploded in her hut. "What so I'm going to call our boyfriend because you can somehow explain yourself to him but not to me? Like he just automatically gets you when I don't? Real nice, JJ."
She left the village in the middle of the night, but when she finally got to a phone, she couldn't bring herself to dial, so she called Pope instead.
"I took boats and buses five hours away to call JJ," she ranted, "and now I can't even call him because I'm too mad. He writes me these like, two-word emails like he doesn't even give a fuck anymore. Like he barely even remembers he has a wife after all this time."
"Do you ever think he might be—"
"Dyslexic? Oh, no question. But he won't get tested, doesn't want treatment, doesn't want to talk about it." She sighed. "I'm not asking for ten dollar vocabulary words, Pope. It's just that it doesn't feel like him in the emails. It's barely a couple of sentences a week. I can't bring him out for visits. We can't afford more than my couple of plane tickets a year and he'd never leave the island for longer than a vacation anyway. And it's incredible here. I love that I'm doing an actual thing and I'm making friends and I like who I am here."
She waved a hand, gripping the phone tightly.
"I'm not just talking about helping other people, I'm doing it. Just because we got married, I don't want to come home and just be a wife and run the Wreck and like…that's my mom, you know? How can I have the same life as her and say that I'm any different than her, that I'm my own person? But it feels like everything with JJ is falling apart. As if I can have a life or I can have him and like…" She broke into a sob. "Why can't he even try?"
"I know. God, I know, Kie." Even on the trans-Atlantic connection, Pope sounded just like himself. Quiet, wise, tired. So sweet.
"Why aren't you defending him?" she sniffed.
"Because I get why you're mad," Pope said softly. "The tiny emails suck. They're like, nothing. And we're both doing exactly what we need to be doing in life, but having to do it without JJ feels like a curse. Did he tell you to chill yet? I fucking hate it when he tells me to chill_."
"Like thirty times." She laughed, tears dripping down her nose. "I don't know how long I can do this, Pope. I love what I'm doing but…if it comes down to a choice between him or this, I'm gonna go home. And I know I'll hate him for it. But I'm still gonna go, and I hate that he can't come to me. I mean, I'd find a way to pay for it, but you know he won't let me, and why should money, of all the things…this would be so much easier if Ward's lawyers hadn't pulled that last crazy gambit and we already had the gold. Basically, this whole problem would disappear and we could just jet all over the world whenever we wanted. Not have to kill ourselves trying to have a relationship over emails and telegrams, for God's sake."
"I know, Kie." Pope's voice ached through the line and she missed holding him so much her breathing stuttered.
"Why did he tell me to call you, though? What do you get that I don't?"
There was a long pause.
"I don't think I can explain it in a way that you would believe me," he said finally. "I think if I tried, it would make you madder."
"Please, Pope. You've got to have something. Because what happens if JJ and I can't make it work? Then what? We both date you and never see each other? You pick one of us and the other loses both—" The words choked off into a sob.
"Sweetheart, I'm not leaving you. I'm not leaving either of you."
"Then tell me how to do this, Pope. You're anxious about everything. You second-guess what you eat for breakfast. But not about JJ. Never JJ. Like how does that even…"
"Because I have him."
She pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it for a second. "What? What does that even mean?"
"I can feel him, Kie. Like who he is, how much he loves us, sort of even where he is sometimes. Like when the hurricane came, I felt it before they even told us on the news that the path had shifted. And when he was missing, I knew he was alive." Pope paused. "I didn't tell you this at the time, but he was more scared than he told us. A lot more."
She swore.
"So it's hard," Pope went on. "The emails, the texts, whenever we can't talk on the phone because he's working or I'm in class and our schedules and time zones never match. But I have him with me. I always have him. And you…listen, Kie, please don't be mad when I say this but…you could find someone better than me. You could fall out of love or get sick of the trouble of us and have a thousand options in an instant. I've always been a little surprised, that you wanted us. I mean I know JJ could, too. Girls, guys, everybody's attracted to him. But JJ is never going to leave me." He paused. "Not even if it's not working and we're both miserable. I'll leave him, or we'll die together. It's how he is. Those nine months after John B's dad died, before he found the clue and got fixated on the treasure. You remember what an asshole John B was?"
"I do." She smiled a little. "I couldn't tell if he was going to get himself killed first or if I was going to kill him."
"Yeah, well, for nine months, JJ was just friends with an asshole. And he would have kept being friends with an asshole for ninety more years if John B never snapped out if it."
She started laughing.
"JJ really is just working a lot, Kie. I don't know why he's not answering emails. Maybe he's fighting or drinking or trying not to drink, but I know he's trying like hell for you. That whatever he's doing, in his mind it's to get you back. Sooner or later, we'll see how and it might be a stupid, crazy plan. But it's a stupid crazy plan he'll have made because of how much he loves you and wants you to be okay." Pope sighed. "It's really hard to be mad at him, even when he drives me insane. Because I get it."
She sniffled. "Dammit, Pope."
"Hey, listen, until you get a phone again, or JJ goes to prison for robbing a bank, or whatever happens…I'm here for you. Anything I can do, you know I will. I can try to email more to make up for the lack of support from JJ until you get phone service again or he's done with this job. I could fly out there, visit. I don't know where I'll get the money but I could get another job if I—"
"NO MORE JOBS." He was already working two, on top of grad school, and his TA position. "Pope, the one thing you don't need to do is try any harder, for me or school or another job. You're perfect." She took a breath. "Damn it."
"What?"
"I hate that he was right about me needing to call you. But I don't hate that you somehow made all this bullshit make sense."
"Does this mean you're not going to dump us?"
"Never. And what was all that ridiculous shit you said about me finding somebody better than you two? I better not hear that level of crazy coming out of your mouth ever again. We're going to have to get a three-person casket, Pope, because I'm not leaving you even after we're dead."
"That's kind of gross. Especially since we're all not going to die at the same time. Would we re-dig up the casket each time, or…"
"I don't care if it's gross, you better deal. You're stuck with me until the day I die."
"I think I can deal with that." The shy smile in his voice translated all the way across the phone lines. "Hey, did you fix that crappy water pump in your latest village yet?"
She ground her teeth. "No. I wish they had Skype. I feel like if I had all the Pogues together, we could figure it out no problem, but me just on my own…it's been weeks and everyone's counting on me."
"Did you check the seals? Sometimes if they dry out just a little it breaks the—"
"Oh my gosh, like fifty times. No, I'm stumped, Pope. I've got one more month and if I can't—wait, I just thought of something. Hold on, let me make a note. If I check the…" There was no paper in her hotel room, so she scribbled on her bare thigh with an ancient ballpoint, looking up to see a fully loaded camel amble by in the street. "Got it. Anyway, you're amazing and I love you. Thank you for talking me down."
Feeling better, she called JJ. He did not answer.
She squeezed the phone, took a firm hold on her temper, and left a message. "Listen, I'm in town for one night. This is the number to my hotel. You can call me anytime until noon tomorrow and after that I'm…" She cleared her throat. "Well, after that it's back to email and I think we can both see how that's going."
JJ called at 3:45 in the morning, his time. "Kie! Kie, are you still there?"
"Existentially or intellectually? Because they're not into coffee in this country and I didn't get much sleep." She'd been up waiting for him to call, but she'd been married long enough to know it wouldn't help anything to say it out loud.
"Damn, Kie, I'm sorry. I was at work and they don't allow cell phones."
"And suddenly you care about rules?" She did the time conversion again, wondering if she'd done the math wrong. Did construction workers work at night? "Isn't it like the middle of the night, too?"
"Shift differential, baby. They pay more at night and I can sleep when I'm dead. Fuck, it's good to hear your voice. How are you? Did you fix that bitch of a water pump yet? How mad are you at me, scale of 1 to you and Sarah Cameron junior year?"
She curled back into the hotel bed, sniffling because it sounded so much like him.
"Answers: haven't fixed the water pump yet but I just got an idea. And I was mad at like a nine but Pope talked me down to a two."
"God bless Pope. I owe that guy a spectacular blow job."
She held her breath, her eyes watering.
"Aww, Kie, don't cry."
"I'm not crying, Jesus get over yourself."
"Okay, what are we calling it this time, then? Head cold? Allergies?"
"I'm going with head cold."
"Head cold huh?" He chuckled. "Listen, I've only got my fifteen minute break."
"What?" She almost dropped the phone. "Can't you just be late?"
"I can't lose this job, Kie. I—Nevermind why but it's important. But I get another break in four hours. Will you still be in town? I can call you back…fuck that's gonna be too late your time isn't it? Shit. Hey, so we still have twelve minutes. How about you yell at me real good for eight of them, and then I'll spend the last four being so charming you fall back in love with me?"
"You only need 4 minutes to make me fall in love with you?"
"Nah, I mean it's really all about the yelling. Yelling at me cures almost anything. Just ask John B."
She laughed, holding onto the phone as tightly as if it were his hand.
"Listen, Kie, for real." He dropped his voice, the background noise fading on his end. "I'm sorry I'm no good on email. Shit just…doesn't make sense when I'm trying to write it down."
"I know, it's my fault for going to a stupid town with no stupid phone and internet."
"That's right, those village people should just drink mud or cholera or whatever they did without you. Pshaw. Who needs clean water? Tell them you've got husbands to keep happy."
She laughed, then squeezed her eyes shut. "Listen, JJ, I know I've been mad, but we'll get through this, okay? I don't want anybody else, never have. It's you and Pope."
"Pope's gonna be real glad to hear that. I don't think he's taken a real shit since I told him you were mad at me. He pretty much always assumes you're going to run off with some cologne model. I told him I'm prettier than some fucking cologne model but you know how he worries."
"I know how you worry, but you don't have to. I love you, JJ."
"Who wouldn't?" he said, too lightly for her to buy it. "You wouldn't believe how charming I could be if we had four more minutes."
She fought a smile, trying to memorize the sound of his voice.
"Any chance you're still gonna be in town with a phone on my next break?" he angled.
"No, if I miss this set of buses, it'll be a week before I can get back and I don't have money for a week of hotels in the city. Plus, I've got to try this new idea for my water pump."
"Okay, well just…don't worry, Kie. I've got a plan. It's all going to be okay. You just keep saving that world and it'll all be okay before you know it."
"Oh, is that all I have to do? Just save the world?"
"Don't pretend like you wouldn't be doing it anyway, in your spare time. You can't help it, with your goddamn do-gooder nature."
She laughed again. It sounded rusty. She hadn't smiled this much in months, she realized. If she could just fix that stupid water pump she could get back to a phone, and if she could get back to a phone, she could still have JJ, not just Pope. With both her boys, she could do anything.
"I gotta go," JJ murmured. "Love you, Kie. You can send an email with all the yelling, if you want. I'll get one of the guys here to read it out loud to me so I get the full yelling effect and everything."
"You better watch out," she warned. "I'm actually going to."
"I hope you do. Talk soon. Be safe."
His next email came that week:
Weres my yelling?
She wrote back, late at night because she'd been hard at work on the water pump. Yelled as much as she could manage, now that she wasn't really mad anymore.
His next email made her laugh so hard she choked on her goat's milk.
Hey Kie!
So check it out. I got some leave from my job, and what happened was, John B threw up in the cupholder of Sarah's Saturn. Oh wait, because we drank all the whiskey, I should have said that first. But for the record, I did NOT throw up in the cupholder of the Saturn, I threw up outside of the car, like a true gentleman. But Sarah was still really mad. But when she found out why about the whiskey and all, she put this app on my phone and it dictates: like I talk and it emails you. Best fucking idea ever, right?
John B says he tells all his problems to Sarah and she fixes them, but I always thought he was just talking about blow jobs. Turns out that girl is SMART and I'm telling her all my problems now too because this phone thing is the tits.
Sarah also said this email telegram thing charges by the word, but I don't give a fuck because I didn't get fired from my job yet and they pay handsomely for my time. My time is a valuable commodity, Kie. So valuable that I can afford to even pay for extra words in my email to swear. Because I love you so fucking fucking fucking fucking goddamn much.
Speaking of how awesome you are, how's that water pump treating you? You make it your bitch yet? Probably you did, but just in case, thing is, there's like a load of engineers where I work now and they're all bored as shit. Told one the model of the water pump you been working on, all the shit it's given you, and he did four different troubleshooting scenarios, the most likely shit that's broken and how to fix it. I attached like four scanned schematics, dunno how the whole email to telegram thingy is gonna do with pictures but maybe they'll just mail them. Thought about including a dick pic while I was already sending pictures but didn't want the schematics to get lost if the telegram lady took the dick pic home for herself. I should probably tell you the engineer asked for a blow job for all the schematics, but I lied and told him I was garbage at giving head. Paid him in beer instead.
And yeah, I totally included that story just to make the telegram transcription lady blush. Bet most of the messages in her life are boring as fuck. You're welcome, telegram lady! Sorry about all the fucks—just showing off all my newfound wealth for my lady. Except my lady doesn't like money, she likes water pumps for people who don't have water, so that's why all the schematics. Please don't lose those, if it costs extra to send pics, that's cool just have your people call my people.
Anyway, I'll email more soon now that I have this phone talking thing. Go kick some ass and take some names. Love you. (You Kie, not the telegram lady, though I bet she's pretty hot too).
JJ
Dear JJ,
I did actually fix the water pump. The idea I had that I told you about actually worked, but I left the schematics to help them fix it when it inevitably breaks again. Give that engineer a hug for me and tell him if he propositions you again, I will fly there and cut him. I should be moving on from here in a week, so we'll have phone service again. I'll call as soon as I can.
Love, Kie
PS Tell Sarah I love her. Your email gave me a head cold. Again.
A month after that, Kie looked up from the chicken whose leg she was bandaging, and there was JJ, an old backpack in hand and a grin across his face.
#
Author's Note: So sorry it took me so long to get this second piece up! I've been busy with all my other writing projects. I don't know if any of you are Wattpad readers, but I'm sharing a YA Contemporary like this over there (only it's original fiction not fanfiction). It's about a young actress in a teen TV show, during a time when her whole real life country is falling apart around her. And, now that I think about it, her stuntwoman best friend is a whole lot like Kie. It's called Not Nothing, and it's posted under my real author name Michelle_Hazen. I've also been dabbling in Smoke and Bone fanfic, if you've seen that new show (it's amazing!)
There will be one more part to this epilogue! Can't wait for OBX S2!