Unexpected Hero

by Craig Goodwin

  “He was like Indiana Jones! Except he looked for people, not artifacts."

  She smiled. "Exactly. He worked for Here First until he found out the disturbing truth about the organization: they were owned and funded by a large corporation that was using his data to get rid of native people and plan new mines. They used him as a scout. He was crushed when he found out he was doing more harm than good. So, he quit immediately and made it his life's mission to prevent them from killing off the native people in the name of money."

  "But why your big fight? And why didn’t he come back from that last trip?”

  “Your dad heard about a tribe that was hundreds of miles from anything, way back in the Amazon rainforest. So, his plan was to get a boat with his partner and explore the far tributaries of the Amazon River and try to find them.

  “The problem was, someone else had also heard rumors floating around about gold in the same region of this tribe. It was supposedly the largest deposit seen in decades. Your dad wanted to get there first—if he could find the tribe, then the area would be protected and miners wouldn’t come to destroy the forest and the livelihoods of the indigenous people. It was a very dangerous situation—people do horrible things for money.”

  “And you fought because you didn’t want him to go.”

  His mother nodded.

  “But what happened to him?”

  “I can only guess...I think the owners of the corporation caught wind of his plan to get there first. They realized that once he started snapping pictures and raising public sympathy for these people their hopes of bulldozing their villages to build a mine were over. So they...acted.”

  “Who are 'they?’”

  “Benji, before I tell you, you have to promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

  “Like what? Just tell me!”

  “Promise first, Benji.”

  “Okay, I promise I won’t do anything stupid. Just tell me.”

  “It's a very large company. They own mines and factories all over the world and have gotten very rich off of the suffering of others. The company's name is Ironside Enterprises.”

  “Not…” Benji’s eyes went wide.

  His mother nodded.

  “Trent’s father!” Benji leapt back to his feet. “I’m going to his house right now-“

  “Sit down, Benji,” his mother said. “No one can prove anything. Trust me, I’ve tried. People searched for your dad and his partner for a whole year before giving him up for lost. There’s nothing connecting Micah Ironside to the Amazon besides his knowledge of the gold and how much money he made in the years that followed your father’s disappearance.”

  “So if everyone thought Dad was dead then why wasn’t there a funeral?”

  She stared at him with fire in her eyes and spoke in an even voice. “No one can prove he’s dead, Benji. And until they do, there will be no funeral.”

  “You think he’s still alive?”

  “I know how unlikely it is, but anything’s possible.” Laura wiped her eyes. “I just hope that, one day, he’ll come back to us.”

  Benji had so many questions bouncing around in his head, but one jumped out before all the others. “Why aren’t there any pictures of him? I don’t even remember what he looks like.”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  Laura stood and left the room, leaving Benji alone with his thoughts. Everything he thought he knew about his father was wrong. He didn’t abandon them. He was—or is—a good man. An adventurer.

  His mother returned after a minute, carrying a photograph. She placed it on the table. On the 4x6 was a grinning man holding a young boy on their front lawn. They looked so much alike it was obvious they were father and son.

  The man was maybe thirty years old, with skin tanned by years spent outdoors. He had a thin frame, but you could tell he was strong by how easily he held a four-year-old in one arm while still having a full pack on his back. The skinny four-year-old smiled from ear to ear, holding a wide-brimmed hat, much like the type Indiana Jones wore, in his hand.

  “I took this picture when your father got back from Papua New Guinea. You were so excited to see him! You ran straight out the door, across the lawn, and jumped right into his arms. You nearly knocked him over!”

  Benji smiled.

  “But why aren’t there pictures of him around the house?”

  “I’m sorry, Benji,” his mother said, “It hurts so bad to be reminded of him. Talking about him like this…and looking at the picture…it kills me to think about your dad. I miss him so much.” She stopped to blow her nose. “That’s why there aren’t any pictures around. I don’t think I could handle it.”

  “I wish you had told me all this a long time ago.” Benji walked around the table and wrapped his mother in a hug.

  “I know, sweetie. And I didn’t mean to keep it a secret. I just don’t like talking, or even thinking, about your dad.” She pulled back, wiping her eyes. “You hold on to that picture. Don’t shove it away somewhere, either. Put it up on your desk where you’ll see it every day.”

  “I will,” Benji promised.

  “Now I have some work I need to do. Can you clean up?”

  “Sure,” Benji said.

  Shoulders slumped and eyes red, his mother looked exhausted and emotionally drained. She gave him another hug before heading to her office.

  Benji cleared the table and washed the dishes before returning to his room. He was exhausted and ready for bed. It had been a big evening. The story he’d heard at dinner pushed all thoughts of Trent Ironside from his mind. He had finally found out about his father (a real life Indiana Jones!) and the mystery surrounding his disappearance. He lay in bed, looking at the picture.

  What happened? Where are you?

  7.

  Breakfast surprise

  “Wake up, honey. Breakfast is ready.”

  “Huh?” Benji said, confused and groggy. “Wha-”

  “Pancakes. Come eat before they get cold.”

  Benji looked at his alarm clock and was horrified to see 6:09 a.m. staring back at him.

  “Mom. Saturday. October break.” He moaned. “Just let me sleep.”

  “Come on, let’s go. Breakfast.” Laura grabbed his blanket, pulled it off the bed, and took it with her into the hallway.

  Cold and half asleep, Benji sat up and rubbed his face. He sighed, pulled on a Patriots hoodie and trudged his way down the hall.

  “These better be the best freaking pancakes ever, Mom,” he said, following the smell of coffee and chocolate chip pancakes.

  “Here.” She handed him a plate and a glass of orange juice. “Syrup’s on the table.”

  Benji entered the dining room and stopped. In his place at the table sat a brown, wide-brimmed fedora hat like the kind Indiana Jones wore. It was old and faded, but still durable-looking. It was the hat from the picture of him and his father.

  “Mom, what-?”

  “That was your father’s hat,” she said, carrying her own pancakes and a mug of coffee into the dining room. She set her breakfast on the table. “He left in such a huff that day that he completely forgot it on his way out. It was his favorite hat—his father gave it to him the day he left for college. Try it on, it’s yours now.”

  Benji set down his own plate and glass and picked up the hat. It was a little big, but fit enough to wear. An oversized envelope lay on the table, where it had been hiding under the old hat.

  “What’s this?” He picked it up.

  “Open it.”

  Benji tore the top off and dumped a few pages of computer printouts onto the table. He looked twice at the top paper. Then he looked again.

  “Is this for real?” Benji held the paper in both hands and stared at his mother, wide-eyed. She smiled and nodded.

  “Are you serious?” Benji was in shock. He looked at the printout again. It was a boarding pass. Flight destination: Nadi, Fiji. “We’re going to Fiji?”

  “You said you wanted to be flown off t
o a far-away tropical island.”

  “We’re going to Fiji!”

  Benji hugged his mom hard enough to knock the wind from her.

  “You are so awesome! You are the best mom in the history of the entire world!” He let go of her and took a step back, a frown on his face. “But mom, we can’t afford this…”

  “Now don’t you worry about that. And just to put your mind at ease…I found a travel agency that had a really good last-minute deal. Plus, we have a little rainy day fund that’s been building for a while now. This seems like a pretty good time to dip into it. Now quit talking and keep reading.” His mother smiled.

  Benji placed the boarding pass aside and picked up the next piece of paper. “We’re staying with a family?”

  “Yep. I was able to get in contact with a company that organizes home stays in the villages. We’ll be spending the first four days of our trip with a family in the mountains of the main island. It will be away from all the touristy resorts with no extra comforts for us foreigners. I figured this way we can really experience the culture. How does that sound to you?”

  “That sounds absolutely awesome.” Benji felt like he must be dreaming. This couldn’t be real. Four days in the mountains of Fiji? He spent entire math classes fantasizing about something like this: a real-life adventure.

  “The next page is our confirmation for a spa resort on one of the smaller islands. Now, I know you might think it’s a bit girly, but after our adventure in the jungle I think spending a few days getting spoiled on the beach would hit the spot. So, what do you think?”

  Benji stared at his mother with wide eyes. “I think this is the most amazing thing ever!” He hugged her again, lifting her off her feet.

  “The last page is a packing list.” Laura struggled to get the words out with Benji squeezing her ribs. “I made it for you because you only have an hour to get your stuff together.”

  “Ohmigod!” And with that Benji dropped his mom and made for the hallway.

  “Benji!” He stopped and turned. “You’re going on an adventure—don’t forget your hat.”

 

  8.

  Of all places, why here?

  7:30 a.m. saw them shoving their duffel bags into the back of the old Ford sedan.

  “You get everything?” Laura asked.

  Benji mentally reviewed everything he’d tossed into his old canvas backpack: granola bars, compass, whistle, about thirty feet of rope (you never know when you’ll need some rope), emergency sleep sack, a canister of waterproof matches, a flashlight, a digital camera, his journal, Mr. Edwards’s book, and a small first-aid kit.

  “Everything on the list. Plus some other stuff.”

  “Your pocket knife is in your checked bag, I hope?”

  “Um, yeah,” Benji said, “Of course.”

  “Great. Let’s go.”

  They got in the car, and as they passed the school on their way to the airport, Benji smiled to himself.

  Goodbye, high school. Goodbye, stupid jocks. Goodbye, Trent the jerk and everyone else. I’m leaving you all behind. I’m going on an adventure…far away from here.

  Twenty-nine hours later, the big plane touched down with a jolt at Nadi International Airport in Fiji. Benji and his mother gathered their things and made their way through the tunnel and into the airport with all the other passengers. A short walk brought them to customs.

  “We’re here on holiday,” Laura told the man at the desk.

  He smiled and stamped their passports. Benji picked up his passport and grinned at the sight of the visa stamp. It was proof of his adventure in Fiji—proof that left his boring New England life behind, travelled all the way to the other side of the world, and went on a trip he only thought would be possible in his dreams. His light heart brought a bounce to his step and a smile he couldn't wipe away even if he wanted to.

  They followed their fellow travelers down the hallway and past the security checkpoint, where Benji happened to look out the window. There, descending the steps of an expensive-looking private jet, was the last person he wanted to see on his escape to a tropical island. The smile melted from his face like the wax on a candle. He suddenly felt like he was going to be sick.

  “Oh no,” he said slowly.

  His mother turned to join him. “What’s wrong?” she asked. “Oh.”

  Laura got to the window just in time to see Micah and Trent Ironside reach the bottom of the plane’s steps and shake hands with two dark-skinned Fijian men—a blue-uniformed police officer and a military man dressed in brown. There were smiles all around as Micah passed a fat envelope to each of the men. Two very large bodyguards on either side of the father/son pair kept watch.

  “Of all the places in the world for them to go, why here?” Benji frowned. His heart dropped. The adventure—his escape—was ruined.

  Can’t I just get away from you? Why are you trying to ruin my life? Why?

  “Sweetie,” Laura said, “Look at me.” They stepped away from the window. She put her hands on Benji’s shoulders and looked him in the eye. “We are taking a ride out into the jungle to some random village in the middle of nowhere. Then we’re going to a spa hotel on one of more than three hundred islands. There is no chance you will see him again during this trip. Take it as the biggest coincidence of your life and leave it at that.”

  His mother sounded so certain, it was difficult for Benji not to believe her.

  “Let’s go,” Laura said, taking Benji by the arm. “There’s a jeep waiting for us.”

  She pulled him away from the window and Trent fell out of sight. Not out of mind, though. All of Benji's happy thoughts of his daydreams coming to life were pushed aside and Trent Ironside was back in his head, making him miserable once again.

  They reached the end of the hallway and saw a squat Fijian man holding up a piece of cardboard with ‘Stone’ written on it in thick black marker. His smile beamed across the room and slowly melted Benji’s worries away.

  “I’ve heard,” Laura whispered to Benji, “That Fijians are some of the nicest people in the world.”

  He was not a tall man, maybe an inch or two shorter than Benji, but what he lacked in height he made up for in width. He had a barrel chest and forearms bigger than Benji’s calves. His short tree trunk legs ended in large, wide feet and a pair of flip-flops. He wore faded khaki cargo shorts and an old black t-shirt.

  “We’re the Stones,” Laura said once they were closer.

  “Bula!” he cried. “Welcome to Fiji!” He extended his hand and shook Laura’s enthusiastically. “My name is Josefa.”

  “I’m Laura.” She smiled. “And this is my son, Benji.”

  “Bula, Benji!” Josefa’s huge paw enveloped Benji’s hand in a firm handshake. His hand was rough, as if he spent more time working outside than he did waiting for tourists in airports. His smile was constant, sincere, and infectious. Benji felt his lips turning upward in a smile of his own.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Josefa,” he said.

  “Now, let’s go find your bags.” They made their way through the crowds, passing a coffee shop, newsstand, and small bookstore.

  “Did you have a good flight?” their new friend asked as they walked.

  “It was smooth,” Benji said. “And looong. I watched like four movies and a couple of TV shows. I’m happy we’re finally here.”

  “So am I,” Laura said. “And we could tell from the plane that this is a beautiful country, Josefa. I can’t wait to see it from the ground.”

  “It is a very beautiful country,” he agreed. “You will see the best parts. My village is in a very nice place in the mountains.”

  They found the baggage return easily—it was the only one.

  “There they are,” Benji said, spotting their luggage.

  Before he could reach to drag his large duffel bag off the conveyor belt, Josefa leaned over and grabbed both his and Laura’s bags by the handles.

  “Careful,” Laura said, �
��They’re—“

  Before she could finish, the burly Fijian had lifted both bags with no more effort than it took her to lift a gallon of milk from a shopping cart.

  “We go now to my jeep,” he said. “It is about three hours to Malakati, my village. The views from the road are very nice—I think you will like it.”

  “Josefa,” Benji said, “this might be a stupid question, but does everyone in your village speak English?”

  “English is the official language of Fiji, but some of the people, especially the older ones in the villages far from cities, speak no English.”

  “Oh. Do you guys mind if I run back to that bookstore and get a Fijian phrasebook?” He looked back and forth from his mom to Josefa.

  “It is okay with me,” said Josefa. “The jeep is there.” He pointed out the glass front doors to a battered tan SUV parked by the curb.

  Laura nodded. “Quickly,” she said.

  “Thanks!” Benji turned and rushed off the way they had come, cutting through crowds of tourists until he made it to the bookstore. It was easy to find the guidebooks and phrase books—the store was full of them.

  “German-Fijian…French-Fijian…” he mumbled to himself.

  Then he heard a voice, one he’d hoped not to hear for at least a week, if not for the rest of his life. It came from the other side of the book display.

  “Everything is going fine,” Trent said.

  “So you know where the cave is?” his father asked.

  “Not yet.”

  “Not yet?” The older man’s words were sharp with anger.

  “Just trust me, we’ll find it. We know the general area. There are a few villages rumored to know something about it. So far we know that we’re looking for a tunnel in the side of a mountain above a village. My contacts are asking around.”

  “You know what’s riding on this, right? I’m talking millions of dollars. I don’t care what it takes. The police and military won’t get in the way—that’s all been taken care of. You find that village and you bring me my ruby.”