So here's a new chapter. Actually, I'm disappointed. Only one review…Is the story really that bad? At least have a cheek to tell me this and I'll stop writing…
Chapter 4 "Hello and Welcome"
Yes, the island was no ordinary place and it had its own mysteries, just like all those who had crashed on it. Exhausted, because she was not used to such walks, Lily-May was more then glad to see the beach and their small camp again. She couldn't get the events of the previous day and the strange French message out of her head and, perhaps, for the first time in her life she wished she could share her fears and thoughts with anyone. Strange, they were here for several days only, but she already felt she was changing, though she was not sure whether she liked these changes or not. Sweating from the heat, she went straight to the ocean, enjoying the refreshing water, splashing around her feet. For a moment she closed her eyes, pretending she was someone else, one of those heroines she had read in the books. Yes, it was a miracle…
"Hey there!" Lily-May's eyes snapped open, as she turned around to Margaret, who was walking toward her slowly. Lily-May noticed she was looking pretty in the new clothes and that her limping considerably lessened since she last saw her.
"Hi, you're looking great!" Margaret smiled at the complement.
"Admit, I'm surprised, never thought you're enjoying hiking."
"Oh, yes," Lily-May grunted, "that was unforgettable! Can you imagine what a glorious night I've spent with this Sawyer-guy and Miss Perfection – Shannon Rutherford?" The girls giggled together. "What were you doing here?"
"Nothing, just small stuff, sorting things, you know. Lock helped me to make a tent, so I have some place to hide from those unpredictable rains now."
"Lock?"
"Yeah, John Lock," seeing that Lily-May has no idea whom she was speaking about Mags added, "the bald gay."
"Oh, that. He's kinda strange, isn't he?" Lily-May didn't like that man at all. Somehow the very look of his made her uncomfortable, like he was seeing her inside out, and that was something she couldn't let happen.
"Strange? Probably, but I like to think that he's just experienced one and reliable, but whatever. So what kept you for so long?" Margaret asked turning her eyes to the ocean.
"We were trying to get the signal, had to climb high, that's all," Lily-May tried hard to be a good girl not to brake a word she had given to Sayid, when they were heading back. Not a word to anyone.
"And…" Mags looked at her intensely, "did you find anything?
"We…um…we, ah, hell, yes. We couldn't transmit the signal, because it was blocked by another one. It was a distress call from a French
Woman. She said that they're all dead. That something had killed them all. She was alone on the island. And it's been playing for sixteen years, Mags. Sayid and the others decided we shouldn't tell anyone, because as he said: "To relay what we heard without fully understanding it will cause a panic," Lily-May parodied Sayid, which would have made Margaret laugh if not for the seriousness of the situation. Instead, she sank to the sand, her face frantic.
"Sixteen years…She wasn't saved then, yes?" she looked up at the younger girl. "If the message is still playing then she was never found…"
"But, but you couldn't really mean that…that we would stay here for so long, right?" Lily-May felt how her heart clenched as a wave of cold panic washed over her.
"I, I don't know, really I don't…"
Jack was inside the crashed plane, going through the suitcases, looking for medicine. He of all people understood that fuselage must be burned, otherwise it could give a way to some infectious diseases and with lack of medication it could… Moreover yesterday's attack of boars wasn't a single act. He knew that this idea would be rejected, but they didn't really have much of a choice. Since the early morning people started gathering up wood for the fire, even if the very idea made them sick. Slowly, the fuselage was turning into a furnace. Jack sighed deeply, rubbing his tired eyes.
"I've heard what you are going to do with this fuselage," he turned to Margaret, who was leaning against the remains of the plane.
"What, came to say how utterly wrong it is?" Jack asked, tired of arguing with everyone about the thing.
"No, not at all," she stated simply. "Actually, I don't see any other way, we can…we can…get rid of those bodies. One shouldn't be a doctor to realize that several more hours in the sun will make this place swamping with infection."
"Are you always so practical? You don't even seem bothered to be around here," she smiled to him secretly.
"I'm just a damn good actress. Besides, I think it's not the dead we should be afraid of… Moreover, cremation itself is not that bad if you ask me. I mean, many cultures in the world believe this is the only proper way of facing the afterlife." Jack came close to her, looking her in the eyes.
"What makes you say so, your profession?"
"No, my personal experience, and, yes, yes, I'm kinda down-to-earth person, so we'd better finish what we've started and if we ever manage to get out of this damned island, ok, then we gave in the sense of remorse." Jack nodded, still looking a bit disapproving of her consumer's way of life. The silence fell between them.
"So we don't have much medication, do we?" Margaret tried to change the topic. She always told herself to keep her mouth shut around such noble and philanthropic people like Jack, but always failed miserably.
"Yes, I've looked through the entire luggage and didn't find much. But I also suppose Sawyer has some…"
"Sawyer?" Margaret arched a brow in surprise. Jack hoisted a backpack on his shoulder and they moved along the beach line.
"Yeah, he was looting, stealing from the dead."
"Why I'm not surprised? What a naughty boy!" They both smiled. "So," Margaret began slowly, "if, to say, I have lost something, chances are, Sawyer has it, right?"
"You've lost something?" Jack prompted.
"Just…an item of my luggage, nothing special. Well, I think I'd better see it found now," swiftly, she turned and walked away, towards Sawyer's tent, leaving Jack's mind to wander.
Sawyer was sitting outside his tent on the beach, reading a book and smoking a cigarette. However his reverie was suddenly broken as the shadow fell on his face. Lazily, he looked up to face indignant Margaret, her arms folded across her chest.
"Wahoo! Just look who's here! Came for a visit, Honey?"
"Leave your sarcasm to someone else, Sawyer. I've got no time for that. Jack told me that you were rummaging through the belongings of the dead…"
"Of course, our venerable Doctor was furious. How noble of him!" Sawyer smirked, while Mags rolled her eyes. Ok, this won't be an easy task.
"Ok, I'll stick right to the point," she started business-like, ignoring his wild grin, she so much wished to wipe from his face. "One of my things is missing and I daresay I know where to find it. Where is it?"
"Where's what, Honey?"
"The case, black case, which, I suppose, you did not manage to open." She was running out of patience much faster then she thought she would.
"Oh, that case!" Sawyer didn't even bother to get up. "So that's yours? Honestly, Honey, what are you smuggling there, drugs? I mean, hey, a gorgeous girl in the evening dress with a case… Quite suspiciously, isn't it?"
"Look," she pointed an angry finger at him, "I'm not here to squabble with you. I'm fed up with your being such an ass," she looked around to be sure no one is near them. "Ok, sure, your having your problems, and believe me, I don't give a damn, whether they are a reflection of your troubled past or you're just such a jerk. What I care is just to have that damned case back, and believe me I'm gonna get it!" Sawyer got up, his eyes dark with rage, his fists clenched, and stepped closer to Margaret, who didn't move a bit.
"Think, you know something about me? Think, you understand me? Better get out of here, girl, before I'll loose my temper completely!"
"Don't try to scare me, Sawyer. It won't work. YOU WILL GIVE ME THE CASE." This was posed as a guttural threat, their eyes were fixed in a fierce look.
"Think, you're so tough, ah?" Sawyer muttered through gritted teeth.
"Yes, I do." Margaret took some final steps to him, so their bodies almost touched. "I won't tell you twice: gimme the case."
"Or what?" Before he even get a chance to finish, Margaret, in one swift circular motion, grabbed Sawyer's hand, pinching several nerve centers, and turned around, hyper-flexing the wrist in the other direction, so that the overwhelming pain and the speed of the movement made Sawyer turn over in the air and fall to the ground with a thud. He groaned in pain, fighting for breath.
"W-What the…fuck…d'you think you're doing?" He growled and was about to try to get up, but Margaret bended his wrist harder with one hand, making him moan, while grabbing his elbow by another, using it as a lever and turning Sawyer's elbow away from the center of his body. His face buried into the sand, as he struggled not to cry out for help.
"Now, where the case?" Margaret hissed, still holding Sawyer's arm in her steel grip.
"You're fucking crazy bitch! Let go of me!" He shouted, spitting sand. Margaret hardened her grip, so Sawyer could almost hear his bones cracking.
"Believe me if I do it again, your arm's gonna break. For the last time I ask you: where's the case?"
"Over there, in my tent," Sawyer was not used to loose, however he must admit that time he had no other choice, that wench was really psychotic.
"Not listen to me, Cowboy," Margaret leaned in so that he could perfectly hear her. "You tell anyone about that incident and I swear I'll finish what I've started. Understood?"
"Perfectly," Sawyer grunted.
"Very well," she let go of his arm, so he finally could turn flat on his back, nursing injured and already swelling hand, while Margaret went inside his tent to get the case.
"Remember, Sawyer, tell no one, I'm not joking," with that words, she went to her own tent, leaving disoriented Sawyer in disbelief.
Margaret burst into her tent and dropped the case to the floor. Trembling violently, she fell to her knees and start rummaging through her thing frantically, not caring much about the mess she was making. Finally she produced a sporty multi-functional black watch and stared at them as if it was some kind of the unknown weapon able to destroy the universe. With shaking hands, she carefully pushed one of the buttons and the secret compartment of the watch clicked open. Inside, was a small key, which she took warily and clenched it in her hand, so that her knuckles became white. Taking a deep calming breath, she put the key into the lock of the case and was about to open it, when all the events of the several past day hit her with new strength. What was going on with her? How could she miss the moment when her life became so utterly wrong? Who was she anyway? No, even Margaret couldn't answer this question for sure. Why? Why all of this had to happen with her?
Her eyes filled with tears, but she didn't pay any attention. How long would she be hiding from the truth that was both terrifying and inevitable? What had happened to her, what had happened to the world she knew? She wanted everything to be right, she wanted just to live her little ordinary life. Instead she had deceived all her ideals, her faith, people who believed her… Why? She couldn't understand… Margaret started sobbing uncontrollably, clasping a hand over her moth for no one to hear her. Whatever she had turned into was evil, was heartless, but she had passed the point of no return and she couldn't do anything about it…
The sun was scorching, so everyone was hiding inside their tents, except for Lily-May, who took her time, enjoying the freedom she had, soft splashing of the water, the feel of sand in her hands. She hadn't done anything of that kind since she was a child of six. For several hours she managed to create a real masterpiece – a castle of the sand, with huge towers, massive gates, intricate windows and a real moat and now was adding some final touches.
That was until a small tennis ball landed in the middle of her creation, ruining several towers and damaging the gates. Before Lily-May had an opportunity to recover from this, Vincent, the dog, jumped for the ball, destroying everything she had been crafting for so long. Somewhere near Walt whispered something similar to "Oops!", but Lily-May could not hear it. Blood rushed to her face, she started shaking from the rage, her hands clenched into fists. How dare him! No one ever could do that and went unpunished! Oh, she would gladly break his neck!
"Um, I'm…I'm very sorry, Miss," Walt made his best to apologize, though her flashing eyes didn't help. "It's Vincent…I mean, he didn't want…it wasn't on purpose…it's an accident…"
An accident? Oh, when she would get her revenge – that would be an accident! Lily-May almost made a step towards Walt, almost, but her eyes suddenly fell onto the man who was standing not so far away watching the scene attentively. It didn't take her much time to understand that that was John Lock. He peered into her eyes like he was reading her very soul, which Lily-May couldn't let him do. Her anger vanished as soon as it appeared, her heart washed with cold dread. As if mocking her he smiled his unsettling, alarming smile and shiver ran down her spine. However, she took the hint and turned to Walt smiling sweetly, the way only she could.
"Well, Walt, right?" the boy nodded uncertainly. "D'you have any idea of how much time did I spend doing this castle?"
"I'm really sorry, Miss, I didn't…"
"And," She cut him off shortly, "I'm not satisfied with your apologizing only. Let me see how to punish you…" She made a dramatic pause, which made Walt more panicky as he had been. "Oh, I know! Since you and your dog considered my work a crap, you are most obliged to help me with another one." Walt breathed out a sigh of relief and grinned at her.
"Sure, Miss."
"And call me just Lily-May or I feel myself old and all that out-of-date."
The sun was going down slowly, at least it wasn't as burning as before. Margaret was sitting alone facing the ocean, far from their camp, her jeans rolled up to her knee, so that the soft waves were splashing her bare legs. Light breeze was playing with her hair, but she didn't really noticed it, her eyes peered into the horizon did not see the beauty of the setting sun. She was lost in her thoughts, she was recollecting…
Flashback
"Onegasimas!" The chorus of harmonious voices greeted their sensei with a bow – dzarei. Then, people in white kimonos spread out the gym to do the warming up. Margaret was sitting in the far corner of the gym on a small bench, dressed in a pretty flowered dress, her hair in a high ponytail. Her face was overcast, nearly suffering. She caught a sight of a man about her own age, dark-haired with an open honest face and laughing green eyes, who gave her an encouraging, almost intimate smile. She tried to return the smile, but it looked much of the weak imitation.
"He is concerned about you, Maggie Sun," the voice of the sensei broke Margaret's reverie immediately. He took a sit beside her, looking at the dark-hired student, doing different techniques in real-fight conditions. "Dennis suffers because he knows he cannot help you."
"Why are you telling me this?" Margaret looked her sensei, the man she completely trusted and utterly respected. He was in his fifties, muscular, well-build, charismatic – a real leader. His skills and leadership were emphasized by dark-blue hakama – wide pleated trousers, which only experienced teachers were allowed to wear. His eyes convey the wisdom of generations along with his own reach life experience. His knowledge of anything in the world had always fascinated Margaret since the day she first met him.
"Because, Maggie Sun, for a week already you are coming here, watching the trainings and go away…"
"I've made my mind, sensei," she interrupted him, trying to make her voice sound confident, but failing miserably. "I…I can't train anymore…"
"Why, Maggie Sun, why?"
"Because…you won't understand…I…you know what does it mean for me…not just a martial art, but a whole philosophy I always tried to stick to…And now I understand that to stay here would be a profanation of a belief, that I cannot allow this to happen. I value it too much to stay here. I've made up my mind and I'm leaving your dojo," her eyes were filled with tears, as she thought of her every dream began to shatter because of one small mistake. She was so lost and it seemed that every part of her life was rifting. But till now she had only one place she felt secure, place where she felt someone was still caring for her, her new big family. Now like all the pious sinners she must run away from here not to defile the only pure place left in her life. Yes, she had set her mind firmly. She had to pay for her own mistakes. After all, she was past the point of no return…
The End of Flashback
"Hey, hi there!" Margaret didn't notice Boone coming up to her. She looked up to meet his glance. His look was somehow concerned and it made Margaret feel guiltier. "I've noticed you've been sitting here for several hours already, staring at one spot. Everything's ok?" Margaret shook her head slowly, giving him a little smile.
"Yeah, everything's fine," her voice sound hoarse, as if she hadn't spoken for years. "I'm just…been thinking…" Boone nodded and took a sit next to her.
"Homesick already?" She chuckled at the very thought.
"It might have been a very good excuse, but, alas, I have only two people in my life to feel homesick for… It's probably my students I miss most of all!" She glanced at his incredulous face. "Oh, I know how pathetic I sound!"
"Yeah, a bit!" Boone chortled. "Look, whatever you were there, back on the continent, it's not important now. We're all here in the same boat, all are the sinners. Think, it's time to start over." Margaret looked at him carefully, but saw no sings of joking. Did he understand how much those word meant for her?
"Guess you're right," she answered slowly.
"Good," he said getting up. "Actually, I've a request from Claire for you. She asked if you mind telling some words during the ceremony. It seems that our doctor is reluctant to do that."
"Me? Telling the words?" Margaret was perplexed. "Wait, why me?"
"Well, we thought you're a professor, you're used to speeches."
"Serious?"
"Oh, come on, it's only a few words! And we better get going or we'll miss everything," he extended his hand, which she took gladly, and helped her to get up. "Wait, Boone, I just want to ask you a question," he turned his head to her. "What you're doing back home, I mean, your profession?" it took him several moments to answer.
"I'm the chief operating officer of my mother's company."
"What kind of company?'
" Um…it's…wedding business…"
"What?" Mags asked incredulous.
"Wedding business, that's my mother's company and…"
"Holy shit! You must be kidding me!"
"Yeah, very funny!"
"Well, actually it is!" Laughing together they made their way towards the camp, to get ready to the ceremony which promised to be uneasy.
Smoke and fiery embers were rising up against the night sky, creating the special effect of something sacred and at the same time desperate happening. The fire, as it is, is an element always connected with danger, fear, loss, but at the same time with purification and renewal. The burning fuselage was casting shadows on the faces of survivors, standing before it, some bowing their heads in prayer, others quietly crying. All the while hearing Claire's voice, who was sniffling her way through these impromptu eulogies. Hurley was standing next to her, holding various I.D.s, documents and other items. Boone was also near, holding up a torch, giving her the light to read. Margaret was standing behind Claire half hidden in the shadows of the night. Tears were silently spilling from her eyes, while she heard the younger girl's trembling voice:
"Steve and Kristen. I don't know their last names, but...They were in love... And they were going to be married…" her voice broke. "At least... At least wherever they are now... they have each other...They're not alone..."
Lily-May was standing apart from the other survivors. Her face was twisted and it seemed as if her only desire was to get out of there, to run away, no matter where to, just not to hear Claire's voice, not to see the other's troubled faces. She hated such processions. Her eyes were dry, her mind wandered. She thought of how good it would be if she were somewhere in India now. Yes, she always dreamed of visiting India…
After Claire finished reading the names, she gave a way to Margaret, who stepped forward, for anyone to see her. It all looked so familiar, the feeling she experienced was familiar with the one she had not long ago, but today all was different. Today she wasn't a wolf in sheep's clothing, today she was a sheep like all the others, oblivious of the fact that there was a wolf too. Her voice was quiet, but everyone could hear it clearly, as she started her simple speech:
"We are here, all of us, because nothing is forever and now the time came when we all must say goodbye to the world we knew. Goodbye to everything we had taken for granted," she glanced at Shannon who as standing uncomfortably, looking around "Goodbye to those we thought would never abandon us," Margaret shifted her gaze to Rose who clenched the wedding band in her hand. "And when these changes finally do occur, when the familiar has departed and the unfamiliar has taken its place, all any of us can really do is to say hello and welcome…"
"Never-never
I'll never forget what you've been for me
You picked me up when I was broken
And you assembled me once again
On this small land
On what should I lay my eyes?
So endless, so deep
There's no more time… Nothing exists…
We are apart…The reality is only what remains…
The things that've been are forever…