Death by Facebook (28 page)

“
Thank
you,” Adam graciously replied. Looking at the young officer he
nodded, subtly acknowledging the effort it had taken to get this
delivered so quickly. “Please tell the General, and his staff,
I am very grateful.”

“
Yes
sir.”

Adam
looked over at Agatha now, her eyes closed.

“
Maybe
she is sleeping,” he thought. “Maybe dreaming of happier
times.”

He
leaned his head back against the netting, attempting a moment to
relax as well. The documents though were racing through his mind.

He
could see the logo at the top of the pages announcing its source as
Naval Intelligence Service, Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. He could also see
it was personally signed by a Captain John G. Gimber, N.I.S. The
first sheet of paper had tracking information on it, and he knew most
likely was embedded with a RFID chip. The last sheet simply said
“Destroy After Reading”

But,
it was the second, the middle sheet that had stuck in his mind.
Stuck worse than his old jeep at the beach, no way to get it out and
no good way to explain it.

Private
First Class James Madison Turner U.S. Army is AWOL as of 23December.

An
initial investigation, performed at his last known whereabouts, the
Kilauea Military Recreation Area in Volcano, Hawaii has been
completed as of 0900hrs 30December.

An
official finding has yet to be determined, but per instructions from
General Wong, the lead investigator, myself, has been instructed to
offer an early assessment.

As
to that point, it is my opinion on this date, that Private First
Class James Madison Turner, U.S. Army is dead.

His
fiancé is being sought for questioning in what we now have
upgraded to a murder investigation.

Sincerely,

Captain
John G. Gimber, N.I.S.

Pearl
Harbor, Hawaii

Agatha
had long ago acknowledged her optimistic tendencies. She had learned
to work with them and take the extra effort to question her first
inclinations. That had tempered her early reputation as a idealistic
dreamer. It had also saved her considerable embarrassment when
playing bingo. She had to finally admit that the universe couldn't
possibly give her winning numbers every evening.

It
was with that healthy attitude toward failure that she came to
realize that she was no longer going to be able to sense James,
regardless of how much she tried, or how much she wanted to. It was
heartbreaking nonetheless. Leaning her head gently against her new
love's shoulder and taking a deep breath she sadly acknowledged what
had to be. It was inevitable, eventually she would have lost him,
given his occupation.

She
felt a little embarrassed that the Governor himself and reporters
from every radio and newspaper in Hawaii might see her tears.
Glancing up shyly, eyes full of water, she saw the Governor himself,
looking at her. He nodded gently and with a gentleman’s
respect turned back to his work.

Somehow
this gave her the permission she needed to cry. Putting her head
down into her hands she let it go, let it all go. The hope that her
young James would somehow come to her and say it was all a mistake, a
bad idea, was gone. He was not ever going to hug her again, or bring
her a box of chocolates from Germany.

Visions
of birthday parties with balloons and other little kids running
through the house, visions of cake smeared grins and bare feet were
dancing there behind her tightly closed eyes. She felt the heavy tug
of history and time. Death sorted itself out from life, leaving the
past behind for elderly daydreamers. She felt as if she were an old
lady now, with no husband, no family, no son, never to play with
grandchildren.

Adam
was gently rubbing her back as she let her heart melt. She sighed
heavily after a while and sat back, letting Adam wipe the tears from
her cheeks. She had surrendered. She knew that her only son, James
Madison was gone.

It
was just at that point, somewhere over the island of Maui, directly
over the mystical summit of Haleakala, in a C-17 some four miles
above the ocean my message arrived.

Agatha
caught her breath in surprise. “No,” she thought, “it's
my grief playing tricks.” She applied her time honored
tradition of cautiousness and skepticism. “I mustn't torture
myself,” she said to herself. She looked up at Adam and smiled
a little, thanking him silently for being there.

She
turned back to her thoughts. “That was different,” she
reasoned, thinking it must be a trick of her mind. “Never was
it this clear,” she felt she might actually be losing her mind.
She had heard about that happening to people in her situation.

How
could such a burst of joy be an appropriate response to what she now
knew to be true about James? She continued to analyze, tearing
herself down, tearing her own dignity away in strips of self doubt.

As
the military aircraft flew over the weathered northern point of the
Big Island, over the village of Hawi and across to the eternal
Hamakua coast our message, Poho and I, came through unmistakably.

“
We
are happy and we love you.”

~~~

Alice
unlocked the door to the women's restroom and peered cautiously
outside into the hallway. Seeing no one close by, she waved at Jack
to follow her out. They were practically giggling, still high from
the danger and the adventure.

“
You
animal,” she whispered loudly to Jack, who was right behind
her.

“
Lion
tamer!” Jack answered back.

They
almost rounded the corner into the operations room together, but at
the last moment, Alice stopped, put her hand on Jack's chest and
said, “Wait here, count to ten or something.” She smiled
her best 'That was fun' but Jack saw only 'I'm done with you for
now'.

“
That's
cool,” he replied, looking down at his feet for some reason.

Alice
disappeared into the bright lights and action, someone immediately
calling out her name.

Jack
figured he could use a drink and turned to find the soda machine in
the break room. He felt a little lonely for the briefest of moments.
Sure, he thought, I'm a big stud. Yes, I just had sex in the
woman's restroom, but here he was, again, by himself.

Being
a middle aged single guy wasn't all it was purported to be, despite
what the movies might suggest. Freedom? Of course, freedom to enjoy
massive amounts of loneliness.

He
pulled two one dollar bills from his wallet, remembering when a
Sprite used to cost thirty-five cents. That was when he was a young
buck, when it wasn't just desperate scientists in remote locations
that found him attractive.

The
can fell solidly into the slot and he waited for the change. A long
silence followed. Looking up at the price, it had just changed from
a few days ago of $1.50 to $2.00.

“
Unbelievable,”
he murmured, popping the top.

Tipping
up the can to take a full mouthful, he gargled with the bubbling
drink, like he used to in college. For some reason, he couldn't
quite remember, it was supposed to freshen your breath better than
Scope. Something about the scrubbing action of the bubbles...

“
Wait
a minute,” he stopped and thought. “Scrubbing action of
the bubbles?” He thought about the viscosity of the magma, and
if it had more dissolved gas then it might travel farther, scrubbing
the old lava tubes. Less gas might keep it from traveling as far.

Excited
to tell Alice about the idea and to see if they might get a sample
from the field he walked briskly into the operations room. Several
people were crowded around Alice's monitors. As he got closer some
peeled away and went back to their workstations, shaking their heads,
or pulling out their cell phones.

“
Alice!”
Jack said a little too loud. “Alice,” he said a bit
softer, having gotten her attention now. “I've got an idea
about the travel time of the magma...”

“
Jack,
wait,” Alice said putting up her hand. “Halema'uma'u has
drained half of its volume in the last hour.”

“
No
way!” Jack exclaimed. “No way. That's what? Eleven
million cubic meters?”

Alice
nodded. She patiently waited for his obvious follow up question.

“
Where
the heck did it all go?”

“
Kapoho.
A large amount of magma has moved into the Kapoho tube system.”

~~~

Star
and Janet were finished with what little cleanup they could do for
the afternoon. It was getting dark quickly with the large vog cloud
hanging to the west, blocking the sun.

Janet
wanted to ask Star about the steaming cinder cone they had stopped at
on the way in, but she could see from Star's face that now was not a
particularly good time. She simply sat with her, at the edge of the
Champagne pool, letting her feet gently stir the water.

Star
looked over at her and nodded a silent thanks. Thanks for being with
her now, at the scene of what Star thought might be her own eventual
destruction.

“
How
are you feeling, Jimmie?”

Janet
hadn't thought about it for a couple of hours now, but pretty good
for the most part. She had a strong build and was young. Plus the
pain pill she had taken at the cinder cone stop was perfectly
matched. No pain, no side effects.

“
Not
bad,” Janet answered, trying to smile a little. “I want
to say thank you, you know. Thank you for driving me there.”
She put her arm around Star. “I know it wasn't something you
wanted to do.”

Star
bowed her head a little, trying to shut out the images of what she
knew had happened there. She couldn't hold back the few insistent
tears forcing their way out.

“
Damn
wheelchair nearly freaked me out,” she laughed slightly.

Janet
looked at her, trying to remember. “All I remember was a lot
of stopping and starting. Did you run over a curb too?”

Star
laughed at that as well. “Two or three I think.”

They
sat in silence for a while, watching the ocean tousle with the wind
and the horizon. The guys could still be seen anchored out in the
deeper water.

“
Do
you think there might be another tsunami?” Janet asked.

Star
hung her head. Of course there might, she thought. They were
foolish to be next to the ocean while earthquakes were happening.
But, she had to be here, she had to stand firm on the last piece of
land on this earth she could ever call home.