The Wreck Emerged

by Joseph Webers

  “I’m so sorry…” There were really no words.

  Suddenly, reality kicked back in. Fetching a new water bottle, he cracked the top for her and passed it over.

  She splashed her chest with water, gently massaging the places where there would be mouth-to-skin contact, and rinsed herself off. She donned her vest.

  “Do they feel any different? Not trying to be nosy, just curious.”

  She didn’t mind. “No … Yes! They’re warm now. They’ve always been like ice to me before.”

  “Then let’s … Here, let’s put Jenny here and we’ll ask together.”

  Matt had a thought. “Wait, let me get something.”

  He opened the lid to the coffin on top and ripped out the pink-and-gold lining from the side closest to him, about six feet in length. “We have to dress her right for the occasion.”

  Maggie removed the pink blanket and Jenny’s outfit and wrapped her in the lining. “It’s velvet. It’s soft. It’s perfect!”

  “I saw that earlier when I was checking to see if there were any occupants. I expected it to be stiff plastic cloth, but I guess people want their loved ones to be comfortable in their final resting places.”

  Maggie knew Matt was just joking; she knew now, beyond the shadow of a doubt, there was no such thing as a “final resting place.” She put Jenny’s stiff, grayish-blue, lifeless body between them and they both moved forward, as if to provide a sanctuary for the little one. They joined hands.

  Matt started. “Father in heaven, please let it please you to send Jenny back to us, to Maggie. Her body is dead, lifeless, full of decay. Every part in it needs to be restored to life. We rely on your promises. We have nothing else to hold onto, except your love for Maggie, and your ability to do what is impossible for us. We ask in Jesus’s name that you make this body a fit vessel for her to spend her life in while here, that you restore her foot, and that you breathe back into her, the life that was so recently sucked out.”

  Maggie added, “Thank you, Father, thank you. We receive Jenny back now, in Jesus’s name.”

  They both looked at Jenny for several minutes, but there was no movement, no change. Then Matt reminded Maggie, “God’s message said you would suckle her. Do that. Her mouth is already open; just put it up to your chest.”

  Maggie had never had any reason in her life to learn anything about nursing an infant. Nevertheless, she picked her up and forced the little mouth on her right breast. Maggie gasped as the pressure in her breast began to increase; she felt something flowing into it from all over her body. She felt Jenny’s lips contract just a little; then her tongue reached out and touched her. She looked down; from Jenny’s upturned nose to her wiggling ears, all were flushed a beautiful pink. Jenny closed her eyes and clamped down, feeding voraciously. Maggie didn’t know whether to scream or shout or cry. “Thank you,” was all she said, her eyes cast heavenward.

  Both sides needed healing; the other side was still dead. “Don’t let her get full! Switch her to the other side.”

  Milk sprayed all over Jenny’s face as Maggie pulled her away. Jenny waved her arms and kicked her feet in delight as the other side became fully operational. Maggie noticed. “Matt, check her feet!”

  “I can’t tell which one it was,” he replied. “They’re both perfect. Well, her right one needs to have the nails trimmed. It looks like there’s about three month’s growth on them. … No! Just kidding about the nails. But they are both the same, both perfect.”

  “How does it feel, Maggie?”

  “Amazing! But after what I did to Jenny all those years ago, I have no right to feel this good nursing her.”

  Matt watched the nursing briefly and wondered. “Oh, Jenny, Jenny, Jenny. What did you see? What did you hear?”

  It was supposed to be a rhetorical question, but just then Jenny unlatched, turned directly toward him, waved her arms, and said, “Da-da-da-da-da! Da-da, da-da-da!” Loudly, it seemed, with great conviction.

  Maggie laughed. “She’s calling you Daddy.”

  Matt shook his head. “No. I was curious if this might happen. I believe she was in heaven, waiting to come back. That she was not an infant while there. And that she was with Jesus from the time she drowned until the time she started nursing. That’s just a guess on my part. My next guess is that her memory of heaven will fade very rapidly, maybe even already.”

  Maggie was frantically joyful; she was beside herself with wonder and delight. Matt was not far behind her. Jenny was the anchor holding them both on the earth.

  48

  At K103 in the Gulf of Mexico, Jimmy Branson did a double-take when he read the incoming message. It was the report from headquarters about an Air World Airlines flight being shot down over the North Atlantic Ocean. What got him was not the approximately three hundred deaths, or the audacity of some entity to shoot down a loaded passenger plane, it was the location. He checked with Jacob next door to confirm his memory. Sure enough, the latitude and longitude matched exactly.

  He hoped that the lack of excitement here in the remoteness of the Gulf of Mexico wasn’t what was driving him to immediately sit down and send a response back up through the chain of command. He hoped too, that the excitement at the other end wouldn’t cause his response to be buried for the next five months. However, he had no idea how the seafloor noise might relate to the airplane attack.

  49

  Matt finally caught his breath. “Maggie, there were actually three miracles that happened just now.”

  “Well, one of course, was God raising Jenny from death. Another was I was healed. That makes me wonder, will my scars fade away as part of my healing?”

  “You could ask God for that, but I don’t think completely. Look at those scars as a gift from God. For years those scars reminded you of the revenge you were going to exact, and of the death you wrought on yourself. You know, the lies you believed. Now those scars will remind you that the revenge has turned to forgiveness, and the death has turned to new life. I do hope they fade somewhat. Now, do you know the third miracle?”

  Maggie didn’t know the third miracle.

  “I’ll give you an analogy for it. Do you know the story about when Jesus healed the man born blind?”

  “I think so. That was one of the lessons at the college group I went to. A man was born blind through no fault of his own. Jesus healed him, and he lived happily ever after.” Maggie was rather proud of this recollection.

  “That’s the best synopsis of that story I ever heard in my life!” Matt said. “There were two miracles there. One, the man could see. The other is that his brain could take what his eyes were sending it, and know exactly what he was seeing. God had to create a whole lifetime of images in his brain in order for him to tell the difference between a horse and a cow, between a house and a tent, and between an angry face and a happy face.

  “In your case, as I watched, you and Jenny were the perfect pros at nursing, even though neither of you had done it before. From the start, you had milk and not colostrum. And I’ll bet you never have the soreness that happens when you start to nurse. Helene was sore for a week with both our kids. That, girl, is the miracle.”

  Maggie was grateful for that miracle too. “As soon as I picked her up, I felt like I knew what to do. Connecting her to me and switching sides just felt so natural, like there was no other way to do it.”

  Jenny was finished, and she rewarded them with a loud belch. Minutes later, she gave testimony that her entire alimentary canal was functioning perfectly.

  “Yikes!” Maggie, startled, almost dropped Jenny into the ocean in her attempt to put some distance between herself and the rapidly discoloring coffin liner. Matt jumped up, causing their little craft to sway ominously, and ripped another section of liner from the top coffin.

  “Look what I just found!” He held aloft a stout plastic zipper bag. “A coffin tool kit. I’ll bet there’s one in each coffin.” He surveyed the contents: several of different size safety pins, some zip ties, a sm
all sewing scissors, needle nose pliers, a two-meter measuring tape, a coffin key and eight coffin bolts, straight and curved needles with different colored thread, nail clippers, a whole assortment of makeup including powders and fake nails, a tube of silicon glue, instructions in English and French, and a small piece of paper inscribed, “INSP BY STEVE S”.

  He gave a large safety pin to Maggie. With a slight bow, he pointed to the top of her vest. “For your royal modesty.”

  She joined him in his silliness, as he fashioned the cloth into a diaper, and showed her how to fasten it with just one safety pin. “We need to name our little rescue ship.”

  “Oh? Why?”

  “Because they will need a name for the movie they will make of our adventure.” They both laughed heartily.

  Matt emptied the tool kit contents from the zipper bag into a small pouch he made of coffin-liner material, then cut holes in the front of it with the sewing scissors. “Plastic pants!”

  Maggie pulled it up around Jenny’s legs, made some adjustments with the scissors, and pinned it at the waist so it wouldn’t slip down. “Perfect!”

  Matt had a thought. “How about the Good Ship Myrtlewood? But we’d have to spell it the British way.”

  Maggie wasn’t aware of alternate spellings of good and ship. “How is that?”

  “G-o-o-d-e and s-h-i-p-p-e.”

  “Oh, you!” She gave him a playful slap on the knee. “I never heard of those spellings, and I’m a teacher.”

  “No, I’m serious. That’s just the point. I’ve never seen those in a crossword either. After the movie, the GSM will be famous. Goode blank Myrtlewood, a six-letter word, fifth letter ‘p’.”

  “Okay, goody shippy it is then!”

  They eventually eliminated the extraneous embellishments; it became simply the Good Ship Myrtlewood.

  Maggie was still holding Jenny, who had developed decided drowsiness and drifted into dreamland. “I will never let you go. Once I did, and God gave you back. I love you to the ends of the earth and heaven.” It was a brand-new song with just one verse, which she sang several times. Then an idea struck her. “Jenny, what did you see and hear when you were in heaven?”

  Jenny, hearing her name, opened her eyes, then closed them again and went back to sleep. Matt and Maggie exchanged knowing glances, and the matter was never mentioned again.

  “Maggie, let me have that dirty liner. I think I remember the difference between milk poo and formula poo. That poo just seemed to come out too quick.”

  He carefully unrolled Jenny’s arrival outfit. “Formula came out first, then milk at the end.” He laughed at his own joke. “But look at what’s in-between.”

  He showed her the black goo. Embedded in it was what appeared to be a segmented sea worm, some small broken pieces of shell, small pieces of plastic, and a ring with some different stones attached. “It must have been forced down her throat while she was rolling around in the shark’s belly. That first shot of milk must have acted like a powerful flush.”

  He examined the milk poo closer and concluded the cleansing was sufficient. He rinsed the velvet in the sea, shaking it vigorously underwater before laying it on the top coffin to dry. Looking at it closely, he hoped they could get more than two uses out of it before it disintegrated completely. He rinsed off the ring and put it in his pocket.

  50

  JC stopped in to Dusty Mae’s office before calling Phil. “Hi! Thanks for the conference room. It’s working out perfectly.”

  Dusty Mae Watt got right to the point. “Please tell me who y’all are and why you’re here. I know y’all work for Phil and you’re here at his bidding, but that’s about all.”

  JC sensed some defensiveness on the part of the Chicago Field Office special agent in charge. He chose his words carefully. “I was in Air Force Intelligence for over twenty-three years. Fairly early in my career, I started being flown around by Joel Barth, the first officer on the Air World flight. We became pretty tight. He was the best recon pilot I knew and I chose him for every mission I could. We retired together.

  “I also served with Phil on some missions. We didn’t become all that close, but we had great respect for each other’s abilities and achievements. After I retired, I heard that Phil had joined the FBI, so I looked him up. I’ve done some work for him over the past five years, and he keeps calling me back.

  “I’m here because I discovered the connection between the Air World flight and the hacker in Brazil. I called Phil, who wanted me to join the task force, as it turns out. He wanted me to come to DC, but when he realized the plane was already in the air, he had me brought here to take part in the VTC already in progress.

  “I have no experience in FBI matters. The work I’ve done for Phil was generally done as piecework or one-on-one with an agent. I’m not surprised at the competence and professionalism I’ve seen here, and I appreciate the help I’ve gotten from Luke and Penny. The field office seems to be running very smoothly from the little I’ve seen of it. How long have you been here?”

  Dusty Mae relaxed and remembered her manners. “I’m sorry. Please don’t let me get your feathers ruffled. I should be a better host. Would y’all like some coffee? We have an endless pot here.”

  “Yes, that would be great. I’ve been on the go since breakfast, when I got the message from Joel.”

  Over coffee, after some brief chit-chat, she told him what was on her mind. “I’ve been special agent in charge here a little over five months. I applied for the job after getting excellent reviews as a field agent, profiler, and intelligence analyst. But y’all know what rumors are like. The rumor said I was picked in order to fill a quota. My probation period is over. I’m still here, but I’m not getting any feedback about my job performance. I thought when you suddenly appeared, that perhaps my job was at stake. Is that true?”

  “I don’t know anything about that. I’m not here to spy on you or take your job.” He was looking her straight in the eyes as he spoke, and he realized she was watching his hands rather closely. Her question had come out of the blue, and perhaps his hands would have given him away if he were lying.

  “Do you get along well with your staff?” he asked. “Any undercurrents? Hostilities? Resentments about working for someone your age, gender, skin color, training, or anything else? Are you fairly good at reading people?”

  “I have a wonderful staff. Enthusiastic as all get-out about the mission and supportive of me personally. And I feel like I reciprocate. By the way, when Penny found out you were coming, she came to me to volunteer to be your assistant. She told me about you. She seems to be in awe of you. She’ll make a good agent one day, and she gives y’all the credit for giving her the break she needed to get started. Now, you’d better go and call Phil before I get in trouble!”

  51

  “Maggie, you’ve seen wonderful things, and God’s not done yet,” Matt said. “You’re just getting started in this new life God has for you. I want to tell you about your part in this new life, and there is a lot to tell you. You will grow in wisdom about the things of God, especially as you continue to be in awe of him.

  “As you mature spiritually, you will understand more and more the necessity and promise of wisdom, of preparation, of determination to follow the Lord’s will for your life. There will be sacrifices as we recognize that the kingdom of God, and His glory, is what we give ourselves to, willingly, because He is our maker. When you get back, you will have a wonderful story to tell. It will be a story of God’s wonderfulness and love for us. And for your listeners. We have a lot to talk about.”

  “I’m trying to catch my breath,” Maggie said. “I’m in total awe of everything that’s happened. How he has used you, and you have refused to accept any of the credit. He has given me a wonderful example to follow. I hope I can do what he calls me to do.”

  “It’s getting dark,” he said a little later, “about four more fingers of daylight.”

  They looked around. The only ripples in the water wer
e caused by them moving around on their lifeboat. Matt was not used to spending hours sitting on a hard surface, and he was getting a little sore. A lawn chair would be nice, he thought. A glance at Maggie confirmed she was suffering the same discomfort. She had the added burden of holding Jenny, since there was nothing to lay the baby on. Matt took Jenny to give Maggie a break from time to time.

  He got the coffin pillow and gave it to her for Jenny. “Do you remember the dream I told you about, where the woman brought me her dead baby?”

  Maggie took the pillow and sat on it instead. “Yes. The petunia dream. The woman wasn’t me and it was me. The baby wasn’t Jenny and it was Jenny.”

  Matt wished he could get the other three pillows for her. “Well, yes, it was that dream. Actually, the woman wasn’t you and it was you and it wasn’t you. Same for Jenny. I had another dream just after Helene died that interpreted the third part, where it wasn’t you again. I remembered it as soon as we got on board the GSM, but I knew in my spirit God was going to give us back Jenny, uh, give you back Jenny, and so I waited until now to tell it.”

  As curious as Maggie was to know the dream, there was a more important issue to settle. “Don’t think of Jenny as being just mine. I hereby pronounce Jennimoore Louisa Trillbey as being part yours, also.”

  Jenny stirred again briefly.

  Matt wasn’t exactly sure what his ultimate relationship to Maggie would be. “Thank you,” he said solemnly. “I receive her, at least for the time being, as my niece. Or my granddaughter. Or whatever. I will always love her and cherish her. I am already quite fond of her as I am of you. When God brings us back to civilization, you and I may go our separate ways, but Jenny will always have a connection to me. By the way, I can’t imagine that ring not belonging to her.”