What Happened In Paradise?

First Visit: They Can’t Come Here

"They can't come here." The caretaker paces among the palms, her lean face hard and pleading. "They cannot come here."

"What are you hiding?" Adam tries to rush the caretaker again, but this time it's Jess who holds him back.

"Come straight to The Villa. That is what I told you. Do not stop anywhere. Come. Straight. To. The Villa." The caretaker stomps between each word. "But did you listen? This is your fault. All your fault." The caretaker jabs the air forcefully as she points at them one by one.

Maxwell wonders if his guilt about and longing for his mother isn't making him irrational. He has the desire to latch on to a woman that's barely making any sense. All because his missing mother told him to in a dream.

"We’ll go to them," Maxwell says, trying to appease the woman. He's not sure she's lucid, but he no longer suspects her about his friends' disappearances. The caretaker accompanied them to what is potentially the crime scene.

"We'll go to the cops," he insists. "We won't bring them here. But they may want to see the beach."

Maxwell reaches out to comfort the caretaker; she slaps his hand away.

"It is your fault. I told you. You made them see you, smell you, know your..." The caretaker shakes her head. "You were marked before you even reached me."

“What? We won’t bring them here, but we have to go to the cops.”

“Cops?” The caretaker scoffs. “All crime on the island is investigated by the men you met at the bar. I told you…” The caretaker shakes her head “...come straight here.” She turns and hurries across the yard.

Maxwell recalls the ride over from the airport. The caretaker's strange request for them to not make any stops or detours didn't bother Maxwell much because he was so exhausted from the early morning flight. For more than twelve hours they had been moving; Maxwell wanted to crash. The group all agreed, except Brian. Brian wanted to eat and “mingle with the locals.” He wanted to drink in paradise, so they stopped at a local bar.

***

"Bartender! Another beer." Brian raises his beer bottle, shakes it in the air, then turns the bottle upside down over his mouth and drains it.

"You're being rude," Jess says.

"I told you. I don't need you to mom me. I already have a mom. And I left her where moms belong."

"You're drunk," Maxwell interjects.

"Yes," Steph adds. "I think we should leave." She reaches for Brian's hand.

Brian pulls his hand away. "I'll let you know when I'm ready." Brian slams his empty brown bottle down on the table and lumbers to his feet. "Where's my beer?!"

"Sorry for the wait. This one is already paid for."

"It's about time." Brian grabs the beer and chugs it. "This is good beer."

Blue fatigues. The man who handed Brian his beer stands next to Brian, eyeing him and the rest of the group.

“Soldier and a bartender?" Maxwell asks.

"No." The soldier smiles, revealing even white teeth. "Only passing through. The bartender was worried there might be trouble." The soldier flexes his hands at his sides. "I’m assuring him there won't be any. Am I right?" His jaws tighten. "My friends and I do not like trouble." He points to a group of men and women sitting at the back of the bar.

Brian pulls away from the soldier with a smile. He sobers enough to quietly take his seat.

***

“Hey!” Adam calls after the caretaker. “You need to help us get the damn police.”

“Cut it. You of all people should understand.” Maxwell walks off, leaving Jess and Adam underneath a palm tree.

“And you do? I swear you forget who you are.”

Maxwell turns, sinking his heels into the grass. “How can I forget when you keep reminding me?”

“Me? I remind you? The world reminds you...me...all of us! If you can’t see that…”

“Gosh, Adam. Get off your damn soap box. We aren’t home. None of that matters here.”

“It matters everywhere.” Adam’s head falls; he shakes it. “Sooner or later you’re going to get a wake-up call.” Adam walks by Maxwell, brushing his shoulder slightly.

“I’m not asleep, Adam. I simply refuse to live my life as a victim, constantly thinking the world is out to get me.”

“I am a victim. I am a victim of-”

“A victim of whom? The caretaker? Like I said. None of that matters here for us, but maybe you can use some of your insights as a victim to understand why she wouldn’t want the cops...the military here.”

Adam takes a step toward Maxwell.

Jess steps between them. “We should call the driver. He can take us to the soldiers.”

***

It is not time for your pick-up.

“Hello, we were wondering if you could drop us by the...police station...by the soldiers.”

It is not time for your pick-up.

“Hello? Hello? We need to speak to the soldiers. Our friends are missing.”

It is not time for your pick-up.

“I know. Our friends are missing. We need help finding them.”

It is not-

“I know. I know. Are you hearing me? Our friends are missing.”

It is not time for your pick-up. The same message repeated on a loop. “It’s a damn recording!” Maxwell ends the call and tosses his phone in a nearby bush.

“What?” Adam pulls out his phone and starts dialing. “Are you sure you called the right number?”

Maxwell mutters an expletive in his mother’s tongue; the word crisp and lashing venomously from his lips. By the look on Adam’s face, he doesn’t need to know the translation to feel the word’s meaning.

“Straight to voicemail.” Adam dials again. “It’s going straight to voicemail.”

Jess bends over the bush, digging between thin branches of spindly leaves. “What did the recording say?” She pulls out the phone and hands it to Maxwell.

“It is not time for your pick-up.”

“Something is wrong with this place,” Adam says. “We should have known better than to trust you to plan this.”

“Adam, what’s gotten into you? None of this is Maxwell’s fault.”

“It’s fine, Jess. It is my fault. Brian and Steph wouldn’t have disappeared into thin air if we hadn’t come here.”

“It’s not your fault,” Jess speaks too loudly as if she’s trying to convince herself as well.

“But it is…” This trip is more than a vacation for Maxwell. It’s an attempt to learn more about the woman he rejected. He has lost the woman he loves because he’s trying to rewrite his wrongs.

“It’s up to us to find Brian and Steph. We can’t turn on each other.” Jess grips Adam’s hand, her skin stretching taut over her bones. “I know you’re worried; we are too. We have to stick together.”