It was the happiest sight in the world. A ship. A ship that sent out many boats that were now heading towards the shore. The first person to spot it was Walt, who had been playing with Vincent that morning. There were gray clouds covering the entire sky, but the temperature was moderate with no visible raindrops. As he raised his arm to toss the ball out towards the ocean, the most remarkable sight in the world caught his vision. The gray silhouette of something on the near horizon.
"LOOK LOOK!" he screamed. People murmured and whispered as they gathered around the young boy, who was still pointing outward with a shaking arm. Vincent barked a few times. "IT'S A SHIP!" someone finally screamed. Cheers exploded throughout the crowd as people hugged, kissed and some even dropped to their knees and cried. Walt sprinted back up to the caves. "A SHIP!" he cried to the startled people of the caves; Charlie, Claire, Jack, Kate and a few others. With confusion heavy on their faces, they crowded around him.
"What!"
"A ship! Really!"
"Where!"
Walt pointed out towards the beach. "The ship…it might come here…just come down to the beach!" He ran back that way, as everyone scrambled to get their few precious belongings, and followed him shortly after. By this time, all 46 survivors were eagerly gathered on the beach, waving and screaming, doing anything to get the ships' attention. "DOES ANYONE HAVE A SIGNAL OF SOME KIND?" Jack shouted, standing in front of the crowd.
"I've got a trumpet!" someone shouted. A boy, no more than 15 or 16 darted from the crowd down the beach. He soon returned with a black case and presented it to Jack. "It's not really mine…I found it in the wreckage. I wanted to learn when we got rescued." Jack smiled and patted the kid on the shoulder. "DOES ANYONE KNOW HOW TO PLAY THIS!" Jack said, addressing the crowd again. A hand shot up. "I do!" Charlie Pace stumbled excitedly down from inside the crowd. Jack gave him an incredulous look. "Ok, ok," Charlie said. "I don't know how to 'play' it, but I did take lessons when I was about 12. I'm sure I can still blow on it enough to make noise!" Jack sighed and thrust the case into Charlie's arms, who opened the case, assembled the horn and held it up to his lips. "Close ya ears," he shouted to the crowd, and blew hard into the trumpet, producing the most god-awful noise anyone had ever heard. He stopped to take a breath.
"I hate to say this, but I don't think they heard you," Jack said, his hands still clamped over his ears. Charlie lifted the trumpet to his lips and blew as hard as he possibly could this time, until he turned a violent (most likely unhealthy) shade of neon pink. A bright orange light streaked up from the ship, acknowledging the castaways' presence. Charlie was still blowing, although not as hard, apparently not having seen the flare. "CHARLIE,CHARLIE!" Jack shouted, running to him. He grabbed the trumpet away from Charlie's mouth, who collapsed into the sand. Jack propped Charlie up, as he began to regain consciousness. "I think…they heard you," Jack chuckled, helping Charlie to his feet. Charlie walked over to Claire.
"We're going to be rescued," Charlie said to Claire, hugging her tightly. He was so excited, he was shaking like a scared Chihuahua. A single tear rolled down her rosy cheek. "I know, Charlie," she said with the most beautiful smile he'd ever seen. He gripped her hand and they watched the ship together, with the uttermost hope of seeing civilization again. Charlie began to cry; they really were going home. No more dreams, no more wishing. It was reality.
Sawyer distanced himself from the crowd, his long hair whipping in the wind. Kate walked up to him. "Happy to be going home?" She said. He looked at her. "Ahh, you know it, Freckles," Sawyer said with that irresistible Southern smile. "What do you want the most when you get there?" She asked, coming closer. He laughed and looked at her. "A beer." She rolled her eyes and smiled. "Of course. I'm going to go check on Jack." She tromped back over to Jack.
"Can you believe it?" She whispered to him. He put his arm around her shoulder. "Nope." Jack glanced over at Sawyer, who was staring daggers through him, quickly looked away. Jack sighed. "What are you going to do when we get back?" He said to Kate, squeezing her slightly. She looked up at him. "I'll probably have to go back to court; maybe jail. I'll try my best to keep in touch with you…" she faded off to an almost inaudible tone, and quivered slightly as if she was crying. Jack turned his head and gently kissed the top of hers. "Who knows…maybe they've forgotten all about you." Who even knew what time it was anymore? How many days, weeks, months, years have passed? By now it seemed like they crashed yesterday. Sometimes it felt like a million years ago. A million painful years.