SECRET SALVATION

by Chad Josey

  “You know everything here would be closed for days with only an inch.” Liz walked into the living room and sat in a corduroy-covered chair. The lime-green phone cord spun in the air behind her.

  “So, Grandma, Mary and I were talking the other day about how we’re looking forward to come see you at Christmas.”

  “Well, uh… um, Joseph.” Liz stammered her response. "I’ve been trying to find the right time to tell y’all.”

  “Grandma, you’re finally coming to see us at Christmas? Oh, that's great. Mary will be so—”

  “Oh, no… no, not that. Well, I’ll just come out and say it. I’m going on a trip over Christmas.”

  “A trip… at Christmas… to where?”

  “Month or so ago, Martha and I were talking about dating. You know, she and Jim got divorced.”

  “No, I didn’t know that?”

  “Yeah, it was all the news here. Martha found out he’d been cheating on her for years… anyway… we were talking and she asked me why I never dated anyone after Eli.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I didn’t have a good reason for her. I guess the whole situation just broke my heart too bad that I never really wanted to. Plus, I had you to look after, and the church.”

  “Yeah, but Grandma, I’ve been gone now for, what… about six years, and Grandpa, well that happened, what... like a million years ago.”

  “That’s exactly what Martha told me.”

  Liz stood from her chair and walked into the kitchen to her shiny, stainless steel refrigerator — the only new appliance she had bought in the last ten years. Under two fruit-shaped magnets, she stared at a cruise brochure of her future trip.

  “Well… about this trip. Martha mentioned a singles’ cruise we could take to the Bahamas… so, that’s what we decided to do.”

  “Grandma, a cruise… a singles’ one at that? Totally doesn’t sound like something you’d do?”

  “After Martha gave me the information, I looked at it forever. I got furious at myself because that’s exactly right. It doesn’t sound like something I’d do. That’s why I’m doing it… even after Martha said she couldn’t go.”

  “What? Is Martha not going with you? You’re going by yourself?”

  “Yeah, she gave me some excuse about the grandkids and Christmas. But, I think she’s still dealing with handling the divorce. And, I didn’t want to press her about it.”

  A few moments of silence fell on the line. They both had to process the news.

  “Joseph, I hope that’s okay. I was going to tell y’all sooner. I had to convince myself to go… I hope y’all didn’t buy plane tickets already to come see me?” Liz asked.

  “Oh, that’s, okay. No, we’ve not flown since 9/11. It still freaks Mary out. We were planning to go by bus.” A pause occurred. “I can’t wait to tell Mary about this. We’ll miss you and hope you’ll have a good time.”

  “Oh, Sweetie, I will miss y’all, too.” After a few seconds of silence, laughter came through the other end of the call. “What’s so funny, Joseph?”

  “Awe, nothing. I was thinking about what I said about having a good time… but, don’t have too good of a time… Grandma, do we need to have the talk?”

  Liz could not help but laugh as she responded, “Now, now Joseph. I may be trying something new, but I ain’t that crazy.”

  “I’m happy you’re doing this Grandma. I can’t wait to hear all about it.”

  “Me, too. I’ll call y’all though before I leave, so don’t worry… Well, tell, Mary I said happy Thanksgiving and that I love her and you, too. I have to go now before Martha goes nuts at the shelter.”

  “Okay, I love you, too, Grandma. Happy Thanksgiving. I’ll call soon. Bye, Grandma.”

  Christmas Day, 2003, 8:08 a.m.

  Pasadena, Texas

  A BROWN SUITCASE SAT by the front door full of beach clothes, dresses, and shoes. All, items one would take on a seven-day cruise to the Bahamas. Its owner paced the living room floor. Thoughts raced through her mind, unsure if this was the right thing to do?

  Liz had always been conservative by nature. She would never leave the house without putting on her makeup and fixing her hair. Floral prints were her favorite. They flattered her new cures she discovered after changing her diet and walking two miles each day. The night of her daughter-in-law’s funeral made it clear to her she needed to get healthy. She had the responsibility of raising her grandson, Joseph.

  Today, the trip Liz was taking may be the most adventurous thing she has ever done. Between her pacing bouts throughout the front rooms of her house, she sat on the corduroy-covered chair in the living room. Liz lifted the family scrapbook from the table beside her turning its pages of happy memories calming her nerves.

  She had memorized every item on every page. The familiar order slowed her racing thoughts. On the last page, she saw her handwritten date on the top, right corner: Thanksgiving Day 1997.

  Wow, this seems like a lifetime ago since I put Eli’s picture here.

  Liz flipped over the last of the brown, construction paper pages. A smile appeared on her hurried face as she read her note: Our Story Continues in the Next Book.

  Boy, did it ever.

  She paced the floor again creating ruts in the thick carpeting. Her impatience to start her adventure became too much to take.

  A car horn blared outside her house. She peeked through the curtain attached to the small window of the front door. No one was in her driveway.

  Coffee percolated on the counter by the sink; its aroma called her. The scent grew stronger as Liz followed its trail to the kitchen. The hot coffee refreshed her caffeine addiction as she returned to the living room chair.

  The coffee had no taste as the anticipation of her trip created numbness throughout her body. Liz reached under the table and lifted a second scrapbook onto her lap. At the same time, the coffee cup clanged against its matching saucer as she sat it down too hard on the table. Her attention was elsewhere.

  She took a deep breath and opened the cover of the second book. The same brown, construction paper sheets filled this new scrapbook.

  Taped to the scrapbook’s first page was a thin, white paper plate affixed upside down. The paper plate had a torn, missing section in its center. A smile grew through her made-up face.

  Huh, to think... it all started with this.

  She placed her index finger on the plate and rubbed toward the missing center. Jagged edges from the torn section felt like feathers to her fingertips.

  I’m glad I hid this just in case.

  The missing section had contained handwritten rows of letters and numbers forming a matrix. The plate’s mystery owner from that Thanksgiving in 1997 never identified. Visible to Liz below the missing section written on the plate was a string of numbers.

  Funny, when I saw this, I couldn’t even remember how I used to solve these codes with Eli.

  Her index finger made its way down to the original string of numbers: 2.4, 3.5 4.4, 3.5 2.5 2.4 5.2 5.5. An audible giggle came as she rubbed her hand across the numbers.

  Liz remembered how she had rushed home on that Thanksgiving night over six years ago. Her mind racing almost as fast as she walked home. She ran through the front door, threw off her coat, and sat in this same corduroy-covered chair.

  Her memory flashed to taking a blue ink pen from the table. Liz’s body shook as she placed the tip of the pen on the thin, white paper plate below the handwritten numbers.

  The numbers give the instruction to the column and row of the selected letter in the matrix.

  Now, six years later, she sat in the same chair where she made her discovery. Her finger rubbing over the faded-blue ink of the words she translated that night.

  A screeching ring from the lime-green phone hanging on the wall from the kitchen interrupted her. Give me a heart attack why don’t ya.

  Liz sat the second scrapbook on the table beside her. The page with the paper plate still open. She raced to the kitchen and picked
up the phone handle dancing in its cradle.

  “Hello?”

  “Merry Christmas, Grandma,” Joseph and Mary said at the same time through the phone.

  “Oh, Merry Christmas, y’all.”

  “We were hoping to catch you before you left for your cruise.”

  Liz turned and saw the clock hanging on the opposite side of the room. It was 8:45 a.m.

  “I’m running late. I’m going to miss my flight.”

  “Well, we wanted to call to wish you a Merry Christmas and hope you’ll have a great time in the Bahamas.”

  “Awe thanks you two. I’ll miss y’all, and hope you’re having a good Christmas there in New York?”

  “It’s snowing, so it’s a white Christmas for us.”

  “Okay, well, I really need to go. I love you both so very much,” Liz said; her tone became serious.

  “Hey, Grandma, we know. We love you, too. I can tell you’re worried about the trip, but it’ll be great.”

  “Uh, yeah. You’re right… I’ll call you when I get back at New Year’s.”

  “Okay, well, Merry Christmas, and we love you.”

  “Love you, both. Merry Christmas.”

  Liz sat the phone handle back onto its cradle. The matching lime-green cord twisted and swayed back-and-forth as she rushed from the kitchen.

  I hope I'm not too late.

  She hurried to the small table beside the corduroy chair and turned out the lamp. Light escaped from the room. The last image she saw was her handwritten note in faded-blue ink below the numbers: I am alive.

  The words she had written six years earlier brought a smile to her, which hid in the now darkness. Liz lifted the handle on her bag. With a deep breath, she opened the door and pulled the suitcase behind her, closing the door as she walked out.

  The sound of keys clanging against each other echoed across the front yard. The opening and closing of her car door broke the silence in the neighborhood. Early on this Christmas morning, her car’s engine roared to life in the driveway.

  Liz was on her way to the airport unaware of the adventure she was about to endure. Unaware, she would never return home.

  Christmas Day, 2003, 11:15 a.m.

  Houston International Airport

  HOLIDAYS LIKE CHRISTMAS increase the organized chaos of an airport. This morning at the George Bush Intercontinental Airport was the textbook definition of chaos.

  The normal busiest time for air travel is the days before Christmas. A blizzard in the Northeast had canceled countless numbers of flights. So, today was the catch-up day for the airlines.

  People hurried in different directions with mixed emotions, many traveling to be with friends and families. For Liz, there was no sense of frustration, only apprehension as she was about to embark on her own adventure.

  The wheels of her brown suitcase squealed as they rolled across the tiled floor in the ticketing area. One wheel performed a whirly dance as it spun at different speeds based on how fast Liz walked.

  She found the check-in counter for her flight and waited in line to get her boarding pass. The sigh of relief did not come from her, but from the suitcase as it struggled to keep up with her hurried pace through the manic maze of people.

  “Good morning, where is your destination?” the young girl behind the ticket counter asked.

  She's not much older than Mary.

  “Merry Christmas, uh… um… yeah, I’m going to Ft. Lauderdale, Florida.”

  A myriad frenzy of typing came from the young girl’s fingers. “Merry Christmas to you, too. Name and ID, please?”

  Liz presented her passport to the young girl. “Here you go. My name is Elizabeth Bishop.”

  The ticket agent took her passport; the frenzied typing grew even more frantic. “So, has it been busy, today?” Liz asked trying to make small talk calming her nerves.

  “Oh yeah, earlier it was crazy, but it’s like slowing down now a little. Most of the flights are arrivals today being Christmas and all.”

  The young girl handed Liz back her passport and continued typing. “Ah, Florida. I bet the weather is super awesome there since it’s snowing everywhere else.”

  “Uh… yeah. I’m going on a cruise and it should be great.”

  “How many bags are you checking in?” the young girl asked as the sound of a printer rang out from behind the counter.

  “None, this is a carry-on, is that okay?”

  The young girl leaned forward across the counter to get a better view. “Sure, it's just the right size.”

  More printing came from behind the counter. Liz stood there turning her head as if she was looking for someone.

  “A cruise, huh? From Florida, is it to like the Bahamas or the Virgin Islands?”

  The girl’s question snapped Liz out of her spastic trance causing her to focus her attention again. “Oh, uh… yeah, the Bahamas. I can’t wait.”

  “Okay, here is your boarding pass. Your gate is B2,” the young girl said as she used her ink pen to circle the gate number. “Just go to your left through Security, and your gate is not that far from there.”

  Liz took the boarding pass from the young girl and looked down in the direction the she had mentioned. “I go that way?”

  “Yes, like just down on your left.”

  “Okay, great. Thank you, and merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas to you, too. Enjoy your cruise.”

  Liz grabbed her suitcase with its squealing wheels. The same one as before pin-wheeled around as she walked. In her right hand, she made sure she had her passport and boarding pass as she had rehearsed.

  She saw a line of passengers waiting to go through Security. Along the side of the waiting passengers stood friends and family. It was obvious to Liz the sadness some had while waiting. Liz watched as some kissed and hugged their loved ones as they walked away.

  Their sadness became her sadness. Guilt crept into her mind not being with Joseph and Mary this year for Christmas. But, her own new adventure was about to begin.

  I can’t believe I’m doing this.

  18-Liz

  PRESENT - Stony Brook, 1:20 p.m.

  1,824 Days Prior to Impact

  THIS TIME OF YEAR, the Long Island weather can change from the heat of summer to the chill of winter, all in the same day. But, today… today, was absolutely gorgeous.

  Birds chirping in the trees added a relaxing soundtrack to this cloudless day. A light, gentle breeze blew. Leaves swayed, not yet wanting to release their summer color to the ravages of autumn.

  The beautiful weather was not the reason for Joe’s walk. No, his racing thoughts pushed him outside to rid his mental anguish.

  Children's laughter playing in the nearby schoolyard was enough to break his dark thoughts. He stopped to absorb their happiness. This faint release did not last long for his morbid thoughts crept back.

  Well, kids enjoy it now. In five years, you’re all dead.

  The schoolyard laughter drifted into quietness behind him. Joe continued down the sidewalk to where it emptied into the local park frequented by dog walkers. A lone park bench gave him relief as he sat and watched two young lovers walking their black lab around the park. Every so often, the two stopped and kissed as their dog longed to visit the nearby trees.

  I didn’t even think about what will happen to all the animals? I need to ask Gabriel if there’s an ark planned for Project Salvation?

  Two pigeons chased each other through the air between him and the couple. The distraction did not faze Joe.

  Did that email even exist? I wish I could remember the numbers. Hell, I'm not even sure if it is real. Dammit, I'm going crazy.

  A rustling sound grew louder as a jogger entered the park. The pounding footsteps startled the couple’s dog across the field from Joe.

  I mean, all this shit Gabriel told me about Project Salvation, maybe I was dreaming about the email?

  The jogger ran a path along the edge of the woods encircling the park. He waved to Joe as he pa
ssed his bench.

  That’s it. You, continue to run, for what reason? Ugh, I really need to stop this…

  Joe stood from the bench. His lower back and neck ached from the deepening stress of his thoughts. As he walked across the grass field reaching the middle, he stopped. The clear, blue sky was in a complete, unobstructed view. He tilted his head back rubbing his neck for relief, as he looked straight up. An epiphany overcame him.

  Okay… I just need to accept this. Mary and I have been chosen. All our family is gone. My mind needs to calm the hell down and prepare for this.

  His reassurance helped, but it was short-lived. A new thought pounded through his tense muscles across his forehead.

  Charlie, Becky, and the twins… what about them?

  The fate of his best, his only, friend haunted him. Joe thought of Mary’s friends and co-workers at the school.

  What about them?

  No matter how much he tried to keep everyone out of his mind, their fate weighed too heavy on his shoulders. The crushing stress rounded his upper back down as he walked to the opposite side of the park. The jogger stopped nearby to stretch.

  There’s no way that email had anything to do with Project Salvation? I mean… Grandma taped that damn paper inside the desk drawer as a game or something… It means nothing.

  As Joe left, the jogger pulled his cell phone from his shorts. “Subject has left the park. I will continue to follow.”

  Christmas Day, 2005, 11:45 a.m.

  Houston, Texas

  THE GATE B2 waiting area bustled with groups of people who sat on blue chairs in front of the ticket agent’s desk. The red LED letters above the agent indicating Ft. Lauderdale - Boarding 12:15 p.m. teased the anxious crowd.

  Around Liz, parents attempted to corral their children. An old man read his newspaper. A teenager talked on her cell phone, possibly to her parents from the tone in her voice. A man tried in vain to wrap a last-minute gift from the airport newsstand.

  Liz sat with her brown suitcase at her feet watching everyone. In one hand, she held her passport and boarding pass while in the other was a folded note. She took amusement watching the people while looking around the terminal.