Morning all, I hope you are having a great Tuesday. Mine is chugging along pretty well. I know it is still early but I woke up super early this morning and couldn’t get back to sleep. No reason, just awake. Which I find incredibly strange. Still here we are. So timers at the ready and off we go.
I’m not sure who’s perspective I want to tell the story. Part off me thinks Henry, part Jake and part of me thinks the child left behind. I am going to have to think about this one.
Tuesday, August 20th: The footprints were clear.
The footprints were clear. They sled from the water and up the beach before leading off into the woods. The ones closed to the water were being lapped at by the waves and slowly erased. Had there been any sign of a boat, large or small, it had already disappeared.
He docked off to the side of the trail of prints and made certain his small row boat was dragged above the high water mark. He could contact the ship if need be, but he would prefer to do this quietly. It was why he took the row boat. It had a motor he could use, and he had once he felt he was far enough away from the ship for the sound to only be a distant noise no one paid attention to. He rowed until he reached that distance and when he returned he would prefer to use the motor only until he got close and then switch back to the oars.
There had been heavy rains recently and he was pleased to find that when he reached the path leading into the island’s interior, there were clear footprints still visible. He didn’t need them to follow, he knew exactly where Henry was going. He just wanted to make sure he hadn’t doubled back on him. Thee was still one set and somehow he didn’t think Henry walked back down the trail backwards placing his feet in the prints he made upon arrival. Henry had no reason to hide, still Jake knew Henry wouldn’t be happy to see him.
Jake knew he should leave well enough alone, but he couldn’t. He had to make certain.
As expected the path led directly to the ruins. He paused at the edge, studying them. Henry was kneeling by the remains of a tumbled down building and making notes in the book he kept with him at all times.
‘So you are going through with it,” Jake said. Henry sighed before turning around.
“There was no need for you to come.”
“I wanted to see for myself,” Jake replied. “And to see if there was any message you wanted sent back.”
Henry winced at the reminder of others. He liked to think of himself as carefree and only responsible for making his own way in the world. He did not want to think of the impact on others, others who now relied upon him. Jake watched Henry’s jaw clench and unclench.
“I’m sure you will find something suitable,” Henry finally said. “If that is all?” He lifted an eyebrow.
“That was all,” Jake said. He knew Henry would abandon the others in his quest. It was clear when they booked passage. He asked more about the ports of call between than the destination and Jake snuck a look at his notebook one night when Henry was sleeping. Henry had no interest in reaching his destination.
Henry dismissed him and returned to his study and his notes. Jake headed back to the boat. He wondered if Henry realized this was the end. That Jake wasn’t merely asking for himself or acting on his concern for the children Henry left behind. He was sent by Winston. Winston was done with Henry and vowed that if Henry left again then coming back wasn’t an option. Henry would be cut off.
While such adventures gripped Henry often, he always returned to the cozy nest the family money paid for, lived off their largess and raided their coffers to fund his next adventure. ‘All that is done now,’ Jake thought as he pushed the boat from the sand. When Henry returned he was in for a rude awakening. He thought about warning him, decided against it. Henry was warned before. He never heeded the warnings and would no doubt ignore this one.
Ten til Midnight 