Chapter 32: Emotional Rescue
At the beach, two camps have quietly formed. Everyone still shares the same kitchen, cooks around the big signal fire, fishes along the same long strip of shoreline. Even so, it has become increasingly clear who watches the skies and the horizon line, and who doesn't.
Large fish nets get caught on rocks or sliced by barnacles, so they need mending every few days. On this cool, grey afternoon Jin has hung one over a thick tree limb, so that Claire and Sun can knot together the great gaps. Sun ties off the higher spots, while Claire scoots along the net's bottom. On a blanket by her side lies Aaron, waving his little limbs like a sea-star as he tries to flip himself over. Whenever the two women laugh at his tiny struggles, he laughs back.
"So where is Hurley?" Sun says. "I didn't see him earlier."
"Jack and Seth took a group up to the cockpit wreckage to look for the co-pilot's radio. Charlie, Desmond, and Hurley tagged along."
"Ah."
Down by the deepest tide pool, Rose and Bernard clean fish while Vincent begs for the guts. Whenever Bernard tosses a small bloody bundle down the strand, Vincent bounds after it and wolfs it down, ignoring the sand.
Claire has noticed how Rose moves about the beach camp like a woman with a secret: the good kind which she'll only reveal when the time is right. Like an engagement, a pregnancy. A rescue ship.
Or getting coronated Queen of Mystery Island, as Sawyer would put it if he knew, which he doesn't. As far as Claire can tell, no one does except Hurley and herself, and of course Bernard. Claire is bursting to tell Sun, working in silence beside her. Hurley has asked if he could tell Jack, but Rose has said no.
"I'm not ready for signs and wonders," Rose remarked the other day when Hurley brought it up. "Maybe when the ship comes. We'll see."
Claire knows that Jack probably wouldn't believe Rose unless she did something dramatic. "Doubting Thomas had to reach right into our Lord's side before he'd believe," Rose went on. "Nobody else needed a demonstration."
The beatific smile which Rose wore as she said these things still haunts Claire.
Rose has also told her what Hurley had only sensed: that it was best for Jack not to meet Jacob in the first place. Had he done so, had he believed, Jack would have insisted on taking Jacob's place.
"Then we would have lost him," were Rose's final words on the subject. She didn't explain.
Although Rose goes quietly about her day, she can't help but leave small signs everywhere. When she swishes her net through the churning surf, it almost breaks from the weight of so many fish. The signal fire needs only a tenth of the wood one would expect for its size.
That's not the strangest, though. A few days ago Faith first began to spot, and then to bleed. Claire can't forget the terror in Faith's eyes when she told Rose and a few other women. They enfolded Faith in their arms, passing her from woman to woman as each one murmured soft words or wiped away her tears. Only Claire noticed that Rose laid a hand across Faith's plump lower belly and closed her eyes as if praying.
The next day, Faith's pale face had pinked up with happiness.
"Must have been a false alarm," was all Rose would say. "It happens sometimes."
The burden of this secret weighs Claire down, and she lets out a little sigh.
Sun pauses repairing a corner section of the net. "Are you all right?"
Caught, Claire tries to divert by checking Aaron, but his diaper is dry. When Sun pats the baby's bare chest, he gives her a wide smile.
"You've only got six more months," Claire remarks. "It'll just fly by, believe me. You'll get back to Seoul, and—"
An impenetrable mask slips over Sun's face. "Jin-Soo and I are not going to Seoul."
Sun has never told Claire why she and her husband were traveling to Los Angeles, but Claire takes a stab at a guess. "So you're going to live in the States, then?" She takes Sun's silence to mean yes, and goes on, "What about your mum, though? Your family?"
"What about yours?"
The question shocks Claire into silence. Mum lies unmoving in a Sydney nursing home while doctors still debate whether she is "vegetative" or not. Even though Claire has never believed that Mum is beyond hope, she can't imagine a life with Hurley in Sydney. They've only talked about California, how they'll marry as soon as they can, how afterwards she can get her immigration papers.
Something cold congeals inside Claire. Sure, the aides at the home will brush Mum's close-cropped hair, make sure that the telly is always turned to Dangerous Animals Down Under or Outback Wild. Even so, Claire can't imagine not ever seeing Mum again.
Since she doesn't feel like explaining it to Sun, all she says is, "Even if we lived in the States, we'd go for visits."
Sun's response is so soft that Claire can barely hear her over the pounding surf. "We are not going to live in America, either." She squats back on her heels, daring Claire to understand.
Claire finally does. "But why? You can't, I mean, what if Rose is right and there really is a ship? That means rescue. No one will be here, Sun. No one except—" She clamps down on the words before they slip out. No one save Rose, Bernard, Jacob, and the mess they have to clean up. The one involving Ben and the Others.
"Don't be so sure of that."
Claire hates to lay down the winning card. Sun has to remember how frightened everyone was over Faith, how at first they all thought the same thing. "What if blowing up the Swan really didn't fix things?"
Sun's glance flickers over to Rose before she can stop herself. "It did."
She keeps knotting without looking at Claire. It's as if a long-buried box has just been unearthed, then opened to reveal the treasure inside.
Sun knows about Rose, too.
The moment hangs between the two of them. Mending the net feels as if they are weaving the fabric of the camp itself together. The word of an approaching ship has spread from person to person, even though it's spoken of only in rare, hushed whispers. Not everyone believes it, even if most do. All of this should have been clear if Claire only had the wit to see it.
"After Faith almost lost her baby, I spoke to Rose," Sun finally says. "She told me that the child would be all right. I wanted to know how she could be so certain. She didn't answer at first, just asked me to walk with her to the garden. I go there every day, but it was like I was seeing it for the first time. The bananas are taller than Jack, even. The guava already have little round fruits. Something has changed."
Sun pauses, as if the next part is being torn out of her. "She knew things, Claire. Things she could never have known, such as why my father sent Jin-Soo to America. Besides my father's watch, both of us were both carrying cash, just under the legal limit. Together we were to give the money to my father's associates. We did not know that the money was their fee for killing Jin-Soo."
The entire beach seems fade into the background, even the sound of the sea. "Why? Why would your father do that?"
Sun's cold laugh chills Claire to the bone. "He has always hated my husband. It was to look like an accident, so I would be free to remarry without the shame of a divorce. My father already had the lucky man in mind, the son of the head of a rival company. A corporate merger, in other words."
"Sun, that's... That's monstrous."
"When Rose told me this story, I knew at once that it was true. Then she asked for my help, and Jin-Soo's as well. How could we refuse?"
"Of course you couldn't." There is no sarcasm in Claire's tone.
"On this Island, I am no longer spoils of war."
The sharp, bright laughter of children rings across the beach. Walt, Zach and Emma are playing pirates on the half-finished raft, climbing up and down as if it was a playground jungle gym. Michael walks past, ignoring them. He used to shoo away the children, but no more.
On the trek from the cockpit back to the beach camp, Hurley brings up the rear as usual. Wielding wrenches and screwdrivers like weapons, Jack and Seth have taken the nose wreckage apart while the rest of them picked through luggage.
Desmond and Charlie made some surprising finds: some cash hidden in the lining of a carry-on bag, a few jewelry items. Jack has said that Desmond and Charlie will have to see who it belongs to before they divide it up.
The broken fragments of Oceanic 815's nose lie strewn about like a disassembled Lego set, but the co-pilot's radio was nowhere to be found.
Just their luck, Hurley thinks as he falls even farther behind. Seth and Jack lead the way, too far up ahead for Hurley to hear their words, although the frustration in their voices come through loud and clear. Hurley has heard Jack's speech before, anyway: Without that radio, they're in trouble. If a ship does come within radio range, how will it even know that they are there? And so on.
Directly ahead, Charlie and Desmond jostle each other as they play, "What I'm Going to Do When I Get Back."
"First thing," Desmond says, "I'm going to hunt Penny down and beg her to marry me. I've got no pride left, mate. I don't care if she takes a year to plan that wedding service at St. Paul's Cathedral. First, the registry."
"Sounds like a plan," Charlie agrees. "Get the bird in the nest, then feather it."
"I've told you my deepest desire. How about you?"
Even the loud cheep of frogs in a nearby pond can't mask Charlie's sigh. "Got to find myself a bird, first. Other than that, ring up my big brother and apologize. I was a real shite when I left him in Sydney."
As they round a bend, Desmond's voice drops out, although it sounds like he's saying something reassuring.
Ol' Desmondo has the right idea, though. In his mind, Hurley argues with his mother, anticipating what she'd say if he and Claire didn't wait. Church weddings take forever to plan, and if this whole crash experience has taught Hurley anything, it's that both life and plans are fragile. If the moment presents itself, you take it.
Charlie's voice drifts back towards Hurley. "I mean, if even Hurley can manage to trap a girl—"
Oh, crap, not that again. Hurley hardly has time to feel indignant because dead silence falls over the jungle. Not a bird, insect, or tree frog can be heard. Hurley stops, ignoring the others as they disappear ahead. It's as if the whole forest holds its breath. Then all at once it breathes out in an extraordinary, mechanical sound, one Hurley never expected to hear on the Island. The whirring noise rushes overhead as tree-tops flutter in its wake.
Suddenly Hurley's taken back to when he used to drive down the San Bernardino Freeway in his Uncle Emil's borrowed Mustang convertible. Traffic copters zig-zagged across the hazy afternoon rush-hour sky with the same rolling thumps.
He doesn't hesitate. "Guys! Guys!" he screams, barreling down the path. "It's a chopper! A chopper!"
He pauses for breath in a clearing, where everyone else has stopped to listen too. "Over that way," Jack calls out.
They follow the sound until the trees clear. It circles overhead, a silver blur with a few red blinking lights.
"The golf course!" Hurley shouts.
"Bloody hell," Desmond says. "Right on the first tee."
"At least it's not on the green," Charlie answers back.
"Yeah," says Hurley. "Like we even have greens."
The group crouches behind a thick cluster of bushes. Jack motions them to get down, then unshoulders his rifle and releases the safety. "Stay back."
They peer between branches. As the helicopter's rotors grow still, the pilot emerges, his wild greying hair blowing in the wind.
Seth unholsters his side-arm, then almost drops it from pure astonishment. "I know that guy."
Through gritted teeth, Jack says, "No!" as Seth heads towards the helicopter.
The pilot hears Seth push through the foliage, and draws his own pistol. Almost at once he lowers it, just as Seth has. "Norris, you sorry bastard. Well, I'll be damned."
Seth breaks into a wide grin. "To hell and back, Lapidus, since you haven't managed to get there already."
The two men crash together as they hug, slapping each others' backs with loud blows.
"Frank, what are you doing here?" Seth says, catching his breath.
"Searching for your godforsaken ass," Frank Lapidus answers with a grin. "Look at you, you fat bastard. How'd you hang onto that gut after being stranded on a deserted island for three months?"
Hurley winces, glad that no one has said anything like that about him.
It doesn't faze Seth, though, who shoots right back, "Like hell you 'overslept' that morning. More likely you were breaking the 12-hour rule in West Hollywood. You could have been standing here instead of me."
As Jack and everyone else cautiously emerge from the bushes, another leather-clad figure steps around the helicopter. "Everything all right, Frank?" a woman's voice rings out.
She's small and wiry, with reddish-brown skin and lustrous black hair. Like Frank, she's armed. "My co-pilot," Frank says, waving. "Stand down, Naomi. We found 'em."
"Everyone here is from Oceanic 815," Seth says.
Naomi lowers her pistol. "Is this all of you?"
Jack steps up. "There are almost fifty of us at the south beach."
Frank's doing the subtraction in his head, forming mental phrases of pain and loss. "Only fifty left, huh."
Naomi stares hard at Charlie as if she recognizes him from somewhere, but doesn't say anything.
Frank says, "Bring out our passenger now. I'd say everything is secured."
Naomi nods, then opens the door just above the landing skids. A pale woman with a thick shock of auburn hair pokes out her head. She blinks into the bright sunlight as if it temporarily blinds her.
"Watch your step, Ms. Widmore," Naomi says, giving her hand.
Desmond's carry-on bag full of loot hits the grass with a thud, forgotten. He stands in shock, and so does the woman. As he rushes towards her, she breaks into a wide, beautiful smile. He says her name over and over, folds her in his arms, covers her face with kisses. Finally he breathes out one final, "Penny," then simply holds her as she nestles on his shoulder.
"I knew I'd find you," she says.
Desmond rocks her back and forth, his face wet with tears. He doesn't care who's watching. She doesn't seem to care that he's stubbly, sweaty, streaked with Island dirt.
"I was so stupid to leave you," Desmond murmurs. "That bloody boat race. What a stunt."
"It doesn't matter."
Desmond takes her by the shoulders, fixing her in a glance so strong, he might never break free of it. "It does. I'll never leave you again, Penny. I promise."
When they start to kiss in open-mouthed earnest, Hurley looks away.
"Lucky bastard," Charlie says. "Strolling along calm as you please, talking about his girlfriend, and she lands right out of the sky."
Jack shifts impatiently, as if a thousand questions are prickling his skin like ants. He pulls Frank aside. "How did you know to find us here?"
Frank grins. "Not much call for listening stations in the Pacific now that the Cold War's over. Ms. Widmore there paid half a dozen to listen for chatter about her boyfriend. Never believed he was lost at sea." Frank pauses, giving the still-kissing couple a rueful glance. "All my ex-wives do is hunt me down for alimony."
Jack laughs despite himself as Frank goes on. "'Bout a month ago, somebody's instruments lit up like a Christmas tree. Naomi's the comms whiz, she can tell you the details. But it was like hanging out a sign."
Naomi hears her name and strides over. "Ms. Widmore flew to Suva at once and leased a ship. The Searcher is forty nautical miles offshore, to the east. Good thing there's only fifty of you. It'll be a tight squeeze, but we can make it." Then Naomi turns her scrutiny to Charlie once more. "I know you."
At first Hurley wonders if Charlie will start babbling about his band, but three months of people not wanting to hear about it have long since cured him. "I guess I just have one of those faces," Charlie says.
"No, I saw you in concert in Brighton, 2002. You're the bass player for Driveshaft."
It's as if Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny both showed up to give Charlie the best present he could ever imagine. When Naomi smiles, she looks a lot less like Ninja Warrior Woman and more like a fan-girl genuinely glad to see a favorite rock star. They smile at each other like twin suns peeking out from behind clouds. "That one, that was one of our best," Charlie says when he can find his voice.
"You're famous now, you know. And that Halloween memorial concert, I couldn't miss that one, could I now?"
"Halloween? Memorial... what?"
"I don't know how your brother pulled it together so quickly."
"Liam? The band?" Charlie's sputtering now. "How?"
"He didn't take a dime for it, either. It all went to Recovery Today." When Charlie stares blankly, she adds, "You know, the substance abuse charity. All in your name."
"Oh yeah, right."
Hurley positions himself next to Charlie, ready to catch him if he faints, but Charlie pulls himself together. Jack and Seth drift away to talk to Lapidus, so Hurley trots after them. Desmond and Penny have finally decided to come up for air, and the six of them cluster around the helicopter while Naomi and Charlie huddle together, still chatting.
After a few moments, Hurley interrupts. "Guys, we need to get back to the beach, tell everybody what's going on." He imagines how frightened Claire must be, to see a chopper pass over the Island. Juliet, Danielle, Sawyer all have to be freaking out, too. And then there's Kate. Oh hell, Kate's going to be wild, especially with Jack gone.
"Hurley's right," Jack says. "We know the good news, but not everyone does. Yet."
Someone does, Hurley thinks. For Rose, this won't come as a surprise at all.
"All right," Penny says. "How far is this beach camp of yours?"
Desmond starts to say, "About three klicks to the southeast—" when a rustle echoes from the same copse which concealed everyone earlier. A louder noise follows, along with the snick of rifles at the ready. Two of them, by the sound of it.
Sayid and Kate slip through the brush, guns pointed directly at Frank, Penny, and Naomi. "Drop to the ground," Kate snarls. "Now."
"Kate, hold on—" Jack says, but Hurley pushes past him.
"Get out of the way, Hurley," Kate says through clenched teeth. "I swear, if you three don't—"
Hurley doesn't stand down. Instead, he fills his lungs, plants himself firmly in front of them, and bellows, "Drop. The. Fucking. Guns!"
What does drop are Kate and Sayid's jaws. Kate lowers her rifle in pure astonishment and breathes out, "Hurley!" clearly shocked. Sayid gives a small chuckle.
Hurley's embarrassed. He swears, sure, but almost never the big one. "It's okay, Kate. They're here to rescue us. Hey, listen, is Claire okay?"
Kate nods. "As soon as the helicopter flew over, she wanted to charge right up here and find you. I had to talk her into staying with Sun and Rose. She'll be glad to know both you and Jack are all right." Visibly relaxed, she goes over to join Jack.
Hurley says to Sayid, "They saw your flare."
Never has Hurley seen Sayid so happy, so pleased with himself. Not in a smug way, either, but with the satisfaction of a job well-done.
"You did it, dude. You saved us."
"Who's the woman?" Sayid says, nodding towards Penny.
"Desmondo's girlfriend. She's got a ship, dude. Says she can take fifty of us with no problem."
Sayid strokes his chin, deep in thought. "I had begun to make a life for myself on this Island. I wonder how difficult it will be to make one off of it."
Before Hurley can answer, the crackle of a radio makes him jump. Frank's voice echoes across the golf course as he says, "Don't expect us home for dinner, Searcher. We found some survivors of Oceanic 815, and we're gonna do a little recon. Lapidus out." He turns to the group, rubbing his hands in anticipation. "You guys got any barbeque at that camp of yours? I'm starving."
(continued)