II: The Bermuda Triangle
I was awakened by the dissonant shriek of my alarm clock. Groaning, I lifted a heavy arm to hit the snooze button.
" Shit!" I exclaimed; it was ten-thirty and I had to catch my flight by one. I had yet to pack. With that thought I sprang out of bed. Bad move. I wound up tripping over the shoes I had left in the middle of the floor and landed flat on my face. My poor body! As if it wasn't aching enough from all of the dancing I had done the previous evening. Well, what was the use of pancake make-up if not to cover my bruises?
Moments later, still muttering under my breath about shoes I had lugged a relatively small wooden chest from my walk-in closet. It was old-fashioned to bring a trunk I knew, but I was one prone to nostalgia. I trudged around my room and bathroom packing essentials. I tried to pack light but my trunk could still double as a floatation device. Despite my tired state I was thrilled underneath it all; I would be able to get out of the city for a few days, out of the freezing cold and lounge on the beach when the shoot was over. Ah the beautiful Caribbean! I was startled out of my dreamy state when the phone rang. Brrrrinnnngg! I ran out of my closet. Brrrriinnngg!
" Just keep ringing! Just keep ringing!" I shouted. Brrriiinnnggg! Brrrriinngg! " Ha!" I let out a triumphant laugh, reaching the phone just before the answering machine picked up. " Hello….Oh, Griffin…Yes, I'll be ready within a few minutes…You're here? Right then, I'll be right down. See you shortly." I hung up the phone. " Shit!" I dropped it and ran back into my closet. I wasn't even dressed yet.
At quarter after twelve I was ready in the car, showered and dressed in a pair of true religion jeans, a long white button down shirt with an oversized leather belt over it, a pair of Jimmy Choos and a Burberry coat in a raspberry colour.
"Ms. This package was given to me by your agent earlier today. I confess I did help pick it out. Mr. Gates doesn't know your taste in art. He wanted to give you a Bottero painting."
" Ugh. I hate his work. The people are like fat beach balls. Griffin, you know there is no shape or form in those paintings. His work truly is grotesque."
Griffin chuckled, " I know miss, so I am sure you will like this. It's fairly old, as I know you are a connoisseur of the classical era. It isn't Romanesque, but, as I said, it is fairly old, so do be careful with it." He parked the car and turned, handing me a package over the seat.
" Thank you Griffin," I smiled, taking the package from him and getting out of the car, " I'll see you next week."
" Take care miss." He called after me as I ran after the boy taking my trunk toward the airport doors, stuffing the small package in my pocket as I went.
Due to in climate weather conditions, my flight to Bermuda had been delayed. Despite this unfortunate set back I had been able to return calls that I had been neglecting.
" Of course I'll make it to the party Kate…Yes I am going to Bermuda but as soon as the shoot is finished, I'll catch a flight to L.A. for Tom's party…Four o'clock?…Alright, I'll be there…No, I can't wait to see you either and I'm looking forward to finally meeting Suyri… Okay Kate, see you then. Ciao!" I hung up the phone feeling slightly envious of my friend's wedded bliss. Now she had a baby too. How I wanted that! Just to settle down, and have someone there, someone that I could trust. However, we were in Hollywood, we were part of the elite A-list. Bliss wasn't a permanent feature in our lives; glamour yes, beauty, wealth, but not happiness. Happiness just couldn't be bought. The truth of the matter was, there wasn't one person alive who could constantly maintain a state of happiness. So, while I envied Kate, I couldn't begrudge her happiness, and just hope I hadn't missed my chance. I shrugged off my melancholy and got back to work.
Two hours later I was finally sitting in an overstuffed chair on a small jet. I relaxed deeper into the chair, sipping some champagne and absent-mindedly smoothing my coat over the chair when I heard the crinkle of brown paper. Suddenly I remembered the package Griffin had handed me as I was getting out of the car. My curiosity roused me out of my tired state as I carefully pulled the package open. Hidden inside was a seal zip-lock baggie, sealed to protect a beautiful miniature. It was a small portrait, however larger than most miniatures; a little bigger than my hand. Its condition was exquisite; the finish was not crackled nor was the paint fading. By looking at the frame I gathered that it had been painted in the mid to late 1600's. However what was more remarkable than its condition, was whom was in the portrait.
Normally, miniatures were only painted for the very rich, but this one, this man wasn't part of the elite. He was actually scorned by them if I wasn't mistaken in my guess. For in this miniature, there was a pirate. His dress was clearly grubby and his hair long with beads woven in it. His one thumb was hooked into his belt and the other hand positioned by his shoulder holding a flintlock pistol. He was handsome to be sure. I found myself hypnotized by the saucy smirk on his face, and the complete self-assuredness that shone through his kohl lined eyes.
I could have stared into those eyes forever but the spell was broken by an announcement made throughout the plane.
" This is your Capitan speaking. Please place your chairs in the upright position and fasten your seatbelts. We must prepare to make an emergency landing. I repeat, prepare for an emergency landing."
Tearing my eyes away from the portrait, I looked out the window to see the rain that had been falling gently was now pelting the tiny plane. I strained my eyes to see something, anything resembling land out the window, but all I saw was an inky blackness, the sky lit for a few brief seconds with strikes of lightening. " Land? Where the hell are we going to land?" I muttered trying to remain calm. The plane began to tremble and the lights began to flicker.
" Hmm." I said looking to the lights, "Now…would not be a good time to panic." I thought as a stewardess staggered past, practically on the verge of hysterics. I began to unbuckle my belt and put my picture in the bag, sealing it before stashing it in a hidden pocket of my coat. " Now why did those people in that Russian plane crash die?" I talked to myself, trying to just breath as baggage began to fall from the over-head compartments. " Because, they stayed on the plane." I finished, getting out of my seat and swinging my coat on.
" Miss! What are you doing! Are you trying to get yourself killed!" shouted the now hysterical stewardess.
Having difficulty getting through the aisle of the tremulous plane I grunted back, " No, quite the opposite, I assure you." The stewardess had thrown herself down in the middle of the aisle, cursing the triangle. I leapt over her, falling into a chair. " Ooof!" I gasped, clutching at my stomach as I struggled on.
As I reached the emergency exit, the pilot's calm voice came on the speaker again for the last time. " Our engines have failed." His voice was quiet and calm, and one knew that he was utterly resigned to our fate. " We're going to crash. May God be with you."
With that I tore at the box containing the parachutes and rapidly put one on. As soon as I fastened it, I heaved open the door. I braced myself. " Quick decision," I muttered, and I jumped.
I fell for what seemed like an eternity, which in reality was probably only a few seconds. At this point, I had lost my cool; I was screaming my head off. However I did have enough sense to pull the rip-chord, and the parachute opened with a resounding whoosh. That sound stifled my screams and I was quiet as I drifted down to the ocean below. As I touched down, I was swallowed by the water. I struggled to get out of the parachute, knowing full well that the weight of the saturated fabric would drag me under. A sudden current shook the water. I undid the clip and hurriedly pushed the straps off of my shoulders as bubbles began to escape my lips. Free of the chute, I kicked my way to the surface. I broke through with a gasp. My chest heaved while my lungs greedily sucked in the beautiful air.
Treading the water, I got my bearings. " Water, water, debris from the burning plane, water, water, lights, water…wait, lights!" I cried. My head snapped back to look in the direction of the lights. A ship! And it was moving this way! A small fishing boat perhaps or a cruise ship. What did it matter? I was saved, as long as I could keep afloat.
That was a sobering thought. Continuing to tread, I racked my brain, thinging of how I could do this. Ah! Before my father became a CEO, he had joined the Navy so he could go to college. I remembered back to when I was fourteen and he had shown me in our pool how to create a make-shit floatation device. I kicked off my Jimmy Choos, not the least bit remorseful. Okay, maybe a little , but between living to see another day, or sleeping with the fishes, I could stand to lose the shoes.
I unbuttoned my jeans, and proceeded to pull them off. I cannot stress how hard it was to tread water and pull them off at the same time. With great difficulty, I was able to get them off. I then tied knots at the end of each leg. That done, I held them by the waist-band and flapped them over my head like I was airing out a blanket. Doing this, I filled the legs with air. Once satisfied that they would keep me afloat, at least for a time, I rolled the waist-band, and wrapped the legs around me, finally able to give my legs a break. I would have to do this several times if I wanted to board that ship.
" Thank God it's the Caribbean. At least I shan't die of hypothermia. It can't get any worse," I laughed. I was talking to myself…again," I hope."