What Happened In Paradise?

Hell in the midst of heaven...Patricia's words plague Maxwell's mind as he paces his room. Throughout his childhood, his mother repeated these words whenever something bad happened. By Patricia's reasoning, their life was good...heaven. The bad things they endured were simply small hells in an otherwise blissful life. Not even the death of his father, Patricia's husband, Maxwell Grant Sr., could convince Patricia that her life had become hell and that there was no more heaven to enjoy. Maxwell was the opposite. He never considered his life to be tranquil, a sort of pseudo-Utopia with blips of chaos. His entire childhood was consumed by turmoil. It was tumultuous to be raised by a mother Maxwell couldn't understand, and it was pure anguish to lose his father before he could even try to understand him. The distance between Maxwell and his mother was constant. The absence of his father was unchanging, so Maxwell grew with a pervasive sense of despair, constant hell without a glimpse of heaven. Maxwell didn't agree...still doesn't agree with his mother's words, but he finds them planting roots in his consciousness, playing over and over in his head like a song, as he tries to drum up the courage to go to Stephanie. Maxwell walks to the brown-painted door and reaches for the knob, hand hovering over the handle with the chipped gold paint. Will he be creating hell for Stephanie? They are on vacation for crying out loud...In fricking paradise! "Ugh!" Maxwell marches from the door to the bed, collapses onto it, throwing himself back into the sea of itchy, green sheets. He has to tell her. He's been silent for far too long. Stephanie is expecting a ring, so Maxwell has to risk being an asshole, risk ruining the trip for everyone. Maxwell hops off the bed and walks to the mirror mounted on the wall. "You can do this." He exhales heavily, runs a hand over his curly, black hair, then smooths the green palm trees on his white buttoned shirt. "It's now or never." The lights flicker, once, twice, before the room goes black. "s**t! Not again. Brian won't let me live this down." Maxwell feels around in the dark, inching slowly to the bedside table where the caretaker told him he could find candles. "Ah!" Maxwell hops and mouths a curse in his mother's native tongue; a language he hasn't heard in over a decade, and one that he hasn't tried to use for far longer. The word goes mute on Maxwell's lips, but it isn't lost on him how much of Patricia this place brings out of him. Unable to assess the damage of the stubbed toe in the dark, Maxwell flexes it instead. He gives the bed a wide berth, forces his eyes wide, trying to take in any wayward light filtering through the small window. "Twice in one night." Maxwell jumps. "Typically, that does not happen. It must be because The Villa is full." Yellow light fills the room before Maxwell responds to the lean, white-haired woman at the door. "Oh, it's you," Maxwell say. "Who else would it be?" "I thought you were... never mind. What do you mean full? You said you could accommodate us." "Yes, but usually we do not have so many people." "So many people? There isn't anyone else here." "Yes...but-" "You should have told me that you'd have a problem keeping the lights on for five people. I'm sure Brian won't let me hear the end of this." "Your friend? The big one with the muscles?" The caretaker spreads her arms wide, curls her hands inward, and flexes her thin limbs. Maxwell nods. "Oh." The caretaker waves a hand. "He's not back." "What do you mean? It's almost midnight. He doesn't know the island." "I was just by their room. He is not there. Have not bumped into him anywhere else either." "Is the..." "The pretty one?" The caretaker smiles, revealing a chipped front tooth. "I saw her walking over from the kitchen." Maxwell clears his throat and pulls on the collar of his shirt. He strolls to the door, clears his throat again. The caretaker smiles but doesn't move. Maxwell nods, steps out, and closes the door behind him. Decision made, he heads for Stephanie's room. Brian's absence is still a vague concern but also a great opportunity. Maxwell hurries down the corridor, feeling the woman's eyes on the back of his head. He steals a glance behind him; she's still there, lingering by his door. He makes a mental list of the personal items and money he has strewn across the bed. If anything goes missing, he knows who to confront. He darts left, down the corridor leading to Stephanie's room; his steps falter the closer he gets to the door. One leaden leg after the other, Maxwell hauls himself across the beige floor tiles, further down the corridor, past Jess' and Adam's room. Here, he comes to a halt. Maxwell raises his hand to the door; it grows limp in the air, falls to his side. He shakes his head and takes a step back. "Maxwell, what are you doing?" he asks himself. He turns and walks away. Halfway up the corridor, he spins on his heels and rushes back to the door. If he doesn't do this now, he never will. He's kept his secrets for far too long. Adrenaline propels his fist into the door, which pushes open and throws him off balance. He grips the door's frame to steady himself. "Sorry, Steph. Are you decent? Can we talk?" No answer comes from the room, so Maxwell repeats his questions, almost shouting this time, but he still doesn't get a response. "Steph?" Maxwell pushes the door open, feels the wall for the light switch, flips it on, then steps into the room. The suitcases are pushed against the wall, the bed is made; there is no sign that Stephanie has begun to settle into the room, despite the fact that they arrived hours ago. "Steph?" Maxwell calls again, challenging the observations he has made. "Maxwell? What's wrong?" Maxwell turns around to face Jess and Adam, who are both wearing the long morning and flight on their drooping faces. Jess secures her bathrobe around herself, tying it with a lazy knot. "What's going on?" "Stephanie isn't here." Maxwell steps out of the room, back into the hall. Jess pushes the door open and peers in. "She isn't?" "No. I just told you-" "Calm down." Adam pats the air between them. "Maybe she went to look for Brian." Maxwell sighs, rolls his eyes. "Why the hell would she do that?" Jess rolls her eyes back at him. "I can think of a few reasons." "You two need to cut it out," Adam says. "The old woman says she saw Steph come here --" "Old woman?" Adam asks. "What's gotten into you?" "I can hazard a guess." Jess puts her hands on her hips. Maxwell sighs, runs his hand over his head. "You know what I mean." "I assume Brian has told him what we've all guessed," Jess adds. "Einstein here is nervous." Maxwell's cheeks and neck warm; he clears his throat to ease the tension of unspoken words. "It has been plain to everyone, Maxwell. Except maybe you and her. Even Brian knows." Maxwell tightens his jaw. He has always known that Brian was aware, but hearing someone else confirm it, ignites the fury he's been trying to bury. "I'm not getting into this with you two," Adam says. "I'm going to find the caretaker, find out where our friends went." *** "Where did you see the caretaker?" Adam asks over his shoulder as he hurries up the hall, leading the trio. "My room." "Maxwell Grant, getting busy with our host?" "Not now, Jess." Adam rebukes the inappropriate joke before Maxwell can. "Your room?" "She showed up when the lights went out." "The lights went out again?" Jess asks. "Yea, how did you sleep through that?" "It's almost midnight, Max." Maxwell grits his teeth at the shortening of his name. "We've been up since three." "Yes," Adam adds, "because someone insists on packing at the last minute." "Maxwell," Maxwell corrects Jess belatedly. "Maxwell," Jess repeats with a conviction that Maxwell knows could have only come from one person. Jess knows the story behind the disdain for the shortening of his name. Maxwell has only told this secret to two people: one continues to call him Max; the other doesn't call him anything other than Maxwell. By Jess' response, Maxwell knows who has told her. They turn the corner and enter the corridor leading to Maxwell's room. The corridor, really a balcony, overlooks the palm trees growing in the centre. The Villa is in the shape of a hollowed-out rectangle, with rooms running along its length and breadth. In the centre, brown rails run along the four inner sides, supported at the corners by four beige columns. The balcony grants view of the sagging fronds of the palm trees which stretch to the second floor, as well as the translucent covering that caps the hollow of The Villa. Maxwell and his friends are all on the second floor. The caretaker was adamant that the first floor was off-limits to guests. Maxwell still desires to be in one of the rooms, wanting to put some distance between himself and his friends. This trip was a bad idea. Brian is off being Brian, doing what he wants - rules and caution be damned. And Stephanie has gone running after him. "She's a little odd isn't she?" Adam's question interrupts Maxwell's thoughts. "What? Oh..." Maxwell knits his brow. "What has gotten into you?" "Sorry. It's just...look." Adam uses his head to point towards the door. The old woman is still there. "Why is she just standing..." "Hello." Adam cuts into Jess' too-loud question. "Nice to see you again." He speeds towards the caretaker, extending a hand to her. "Maxwell says that you saw our friend." "Yes." "Where?" "Her room." "Well...You see...We were just there." Adam points down the corridor. "We didn't see her. Can you tell when you last saw her?" Maxwell straightens realizing Adam's concern. He recognizes Adam's tone, his careful selection of words. Adam is trying to solve a problem without becoming one. On rare occasions, Maxwell has had to adapt this behaviour as well. "I don't know. Before the lights went out. Maybe an hour." Adam faces Maxwell and Jess, worry creasing his brow. "Are you sure she was headed to her room?" Maxwell asks. "Yes." "She must not have been there long." Maxwell looks to Adam, then back at the caretaker. "We're going to walk the grounds...see if we find them." "As you wish, but I could tell if they were here." "What?" Maxwell's eyes widen. "You said you saw her walking to her room. Now you're saying she isn't here?" "She was. Now she is not." Maxwell takes a step towards the caretaker. "We're trying to find our friends, old woman. We don't have time for riddles or games." "Maxwell." Adam squeezes Maxwell's shoulder. Maxwell wishes Adam would be a little bit more forceful considering the situation. They're foreigners in a third-world country. The laws here aren't the same. Here they are seen as treasures, not threats. Still, Maxwell takes a step back from the caretaker and adjusts his tone. "Tell us about the area. Where could they have gone?" "Not many places to go around here. Maybe they went for a lover dip." Did she smirk? She did smirk. This woman knows too much about their dynamic. "I guess we're all going for a midnight dip." The caretaker stiffens, all traces of her taunt gone. "It is too late to go out." "Our friends are already out there." "Right...they are already out there. No need to put yourself in danger." "We're going. Adam?" "Crime is bad here after dark. I told you. Your friends knew the risk." "Adam?" Maxwell looks over to Adam again, whose hand is locked tightly with Jess'. "Fine. I'll go by myself." "Do not be stupid," the caretaker says. "Just wait 'till morning." "Maxwell, she's right. Maybe we should wait...or call the police." Adam is clearly eating up this woman's every word. "How do we get them here?" "Police? Here? Never. Your friends are exploring. They will be back in the morning." "What?" Jess asks. "You expect us to just wait?" "They're fine." Adam rubs the back of Jess' hand. "The beach isn't too far. Maybe Brian did it and they decided to make a night of it." Adam's words drive Maxwell to his room. "If they're not back by morning, I'll go get the police myself." Maxwell hears the last of Adam's consolation before he squeezes his door shut. The thought of Stephanie and Brian rolling around in the sand offered him little comfort, but that reality would mean that they were safe. The feeling that has been lingering since their arrival tries to convince Maxwell otherwise.