A/N: A new chapter! Enjoy!
Gil Grissom's Romance Part 2
CHAPTER 9
Sara Sidle had done what few people managed to do in the age of email, internet, and cell phones. Quite simply, she had disappeared.
Grissom had sent emails, left voice messages, all with no responses, and finally, he called Laura Sidle who was rather reticent for several minutes—or she was talking in circles, he could never be certain. She opened up when he told her of his upcoming retirement from the crime lab—and he wanted to join Sara.
She had only the vaguest notion of where Sara was but she did know the country—even had a post card from Costa Rica—and came up with a name of a research group which turned out to be a twisted or mispronounced name that got him nowhere. After an exhaustive search, he found four research groups who took volunteers on short notice and with the fourth phone call, he found her.
Not Sara; she was deep in the rainforest of Costa Rica. It took several minutes to convince the woman on the phone he was the legitimate contact for Sara, and once she found his name, she freely provided information. By the time he'd asked a dozen questions, he learned where she was and how to find her—stressing he wanted to surprise Sara by arriving to celebrate a special occasion. The woman immediately became his best trip-planning friend.
Leaving the lab caused no sadness; he had made the decision to move on—to move forward—to enter into another part of his life. What caused a certain distress was leaving Hank but by the time he and the dog had spent two days with his mother, he knew he'd done the right thing. Hank made a good companion and his mother accepted the dog willingly, seeing the situation as temporary and one that pushed her son to make a decision.
Before he left her, Betty Grissom handed a small box to her son, signing, "It belonged to your grandmother. Her hands were like Sara's."
Inside the box was a slim band of gold, smooth with wear, as bright as it had been when it was new. A well-known jeweler name was engraved on the inside of the ring.
When his eyebrows arched in surprise, his mother smiled, signing, "Your grandfather believed in the best."
With that, his journey began…
Arriving in the late afternoon after taking increasingly smaller planes until it seemed he was flying in the back seat of a metal tube, Gil Grissom felt the familiar lift of a roller coaster as the airplane lifted quickly from the runway. The pilot bragged of the plane's efficiency and ability to take off and land in four hundred feet or less. By the time the single back wheel of the "tail dragger" left the ground, conversation was non-existent for thirty minutes as the plane gained altitude and flew above the thick green rain forest.
Grissom's thoughts went to everything he'd read about Costa Rica as he watched the lush scenery slide below the silver plane. Before Christopher Columbus landed on its shore resulting in the desiccation of the native people, Costa Rica had a population that traded in gold and jade, had built aqueducts, and had placed large granite balls along its western coast. But the mountains and forests made the area difficult to settle for most Europeans who came after Columbus and not until coffee and bananas arrived was farming successful and profitable. Ironically, the downfall of coffee prices played a primary role in the country's major shift to its green revolution. Bringing tourists and scientists in from around the world was now a cash 'crop'.
Over one-third of the country was classified as national parks, preserves, or wildlife reserves. Paradise found, according to a major tourist guide Grissom had read.
As the tiny plane floated toward a strip of clipped-paler green, he held his breath. Just like a roller coaster, the landing was surprisingly smooth.
"We made it with time and space to spare," the pilot said with a laugh as he helped extricate Grissom from the seat.
"Thank you!" Grissom could not help but notice the runway ended a few yards away from the nose of the plane; giant trees, tangled vines, and dense undergrowth grew in an impenetrable wall. At least there was no visible evidence of recent wreckage, he thought; then realized the rapid growth of vegetation would quickly hide anything that might be there.
"You must be Dr. Gil Grissom." A heavy-built man with short gray hair walked up, hand out. "I'm Thomas Marks—nice to meet you. I know you are a lucky man!"
When Grissom looked confused, Marks explained with a laugh, "All of us love Sara—brilliant brain, hard worker—and beautiful woman—and I've kept your surprise."
The two men left the pilot tying the plane down and headed to a long, low building built to blend into the landscape. Grissom found it difficult to respond to the other man's comments because of the scenery; he'd never seen any place that came close to what surrounded him.
It was a wilderness, a thousand shades of green topped by a brilliant blue dome; his eyes, his ears were overwhelmed. In the clear, late afternoon sky, birds soared. Sounds of insects, birds, and frogs reverberated across the clearing. When they reached the porch, Grissom stood for a few minutes, casting his eyes up, around, and back.
Thomas Marks held the screen door, chuckled softly, and said, "You'll get used to it—I've got ear plugs if you need them for a few nights."
Smiling, Grissom shook his head, "No, I want to hear it all. This is amazing."
Even the building amazed him as he was shown around. It was as if the house was living in nature, no intrusion at all, with window after window, screened with fine mesh that let in breezes and soft light. Beauty and functional, Grissom thought.
In a few minutes, he was shown to a room with two comfortable looking beds and a wall of windows. Sara's clothes took up half of the small closet. Down the hall, the bathroom was a shared facility—Marks suggested a shower before a group of researchers returned from a day in the field.
"The water's warm now but it goes quickly," he explained. "We have eighteen volunteers—most of them stay in tents for several days at a time—like Sara is doing this week, but a few work near enough to come in every night."
Grissom took the suggestion and quickly showered; afterwards, wiping away moisture that covered a small mirror, he saw the face of a very tired man looking back at him.
An hour later, minutes before darkness became complete, six sweaty people showed up, all cheerfully smiling, greeting him not as a stranger, but as an acquaintance with similar interests, sharing experiences, and telling jokes as they gathered in the common sitting-dining room. Finding the new arrival to be a willing listener, Grissom was never alone as each researcher disappeared for a few minutes to reappear in clean clothes and damp hair. The last three men jovially complained about the lack of warm water for showers, an obviously running joke among the group.
Hunger, exhaustion, or relief brought an appetite and Grissom ate beans wrapped in fresh tortillas covered with soft cheese, a generous scoop of rice with peppers and onions, fried plantains, and a bowl of salad with tomatoes, avocadoes, and carrots. All of it as tasteful as any food he had eaten in weeks.
The pilot had flown in with boxes of food—including sweet cakes for dessert—but the best of it—frozen beef and chicken—was reserved for Friday and Saturday nights when the cook fired up his grill. He joined with the others as they told stories—obviously embellished—of adventures in far-off places. Talk was easy, and entertaining, on a variety of topics ranging from local politics to fields of study.
Just as quickly as they had appeared, the group quieted and disappeared toward the bedroom wing but not before one explained to Grissom the path to Sara was in the direction they would go the next morning—adding a couple of hours to his hike from their station. Thomas Marks presented Grissom with a hand-held GPS and explained how it worked.
"The dot—that's where you'll find Sara."
At the mention of her name, Grissom's hand went to his shirt pocket where he pressed the ring against his chest.
The next morning, Grissom woke to a cool breeze bringing in the sounds of the rainforest. Quickly dressing, stopping at the bathroom on his way to the voices he'd heard, he found breakfast—more beans and tortillas along with eggs and coffee—and preparations being made for the day.
One of the researchers—Nancy, who's research involved a locally identified rare beetle—helped him pack a small back pack with water and snacks.
She said, "Try to start back before noon. You'll be walking down the mountain as you go in—coming out, it's more of a climb than you realize." She glanced at her colleagues and lowered her voice to a whisper. "We've loved having Sara here—she's a hard worker, but she's—I'd say melancholy if anyone used the word now—but she has a gentle sadness about her when she doesn't think anyone is watching." She smiled, "I think she'll be happy today."
Grissom followed the group into the rainforest; it was another world. A world of cool shadows, gentle light, of rich scents, of creatures unseen but heard. And yet, it was not threatening. After an hour, he left the group, gaining solitude, grateful for a well-marked trail that made twisting turns through a living rainforest. There were hundreds of reasons to stop, but he kept to the trail, finding it easy going, with one destination, one thought, one person, in his mind.
Checking the GPS, Grissom saw he should be arriving at the remote field research station but try as he might, he could not see more than a few feet into the undergrowth. His feet stayed on the trail as he picked up faint sounds of human voices.
Suddenly, he stumbled to a stop. Sunlight, no longer dappled with shade, beamed through the high trees to a man-made clearing. Grissom looked ahead of him and there she was. Sara.
Sara, her back to him, in a pose all too familiar, was aiming a camera at something above her head. His eyes never left her as the same thought that had been running around his brain for days seemed to explode—would she be happy to see him?
A moment later, she turned, instantly dropping the camera to her side; a look of disbelief flashed across her face—only for a second—before her mouth lifted its corners.
There was nothing left to do—he walked forward into adored arms.
A/N: Thank you to everyone who has continued to read and review!