Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/6757585.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Major_Character_Death, Rape/Non-Con,
      Underage
  Category:
      Multi
  Fandom:
      Baseball_RPF, Sports_RPF
  Relationship:
      Alex_Wood/David_Carpenter, Gavin_Floyd/Original_Female_Character, Freddie
      Freeman/Jason_Heyward, Mike_Minor/Brandon_Beachy, David_Carpenter/Chris
      Johnson, Tyler_Pastornicky/Original_Female_Character, Chris_Johnson/
      Original_Male_Character, Chris_Johnson/Andrelton_Simmons
  Character:
      Tommy_La_Stella, Julio_Teherán, Alex_Wood, David_Carpenter, Jason
      Heyward, Freddie_Freeman, Tyler_Pastornicky, Dan_Uggla, Chris_Johnson,
      Andrelton_Simmons, Mike_Minor, Brandon_Beachy, Ervin_Santana, Ramiro
      Peña, Evan_Gattis, Craig_Kimbrel, Jonny_Venters, Luis_Avilán, David_Hale,
      Justin_Upton, Gavin_Floyd, Kris_Medlen, Original_Male_Character(s),
      Original_Female_Character(s), Baby_-_Character, Trans_Character_-
      Character
  Additional Tags:
      Island_-_Freeform, Funeral, Wedding, epidemic, Euthanasia, Drowning,
      Atlanta_Braves, Alternate_Universe, 2015_-_Freeform, Childbirth,
      Cheating, Alcohol_Poisoning, Sick_baby
  Series:
      Part 2 of Into_the_Ocean
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-05-05 Words: 9917
****** Her Name Is Alice ******
by 6YearsABrave
Summary
     With the arrival of three new inhabitants, the fate of the island
     takes a drastic, unexpected turn.
The sky became noticeably brighter as water continued to drench the deck of the
boat. And in turn, with each sloshing, ruthless wave, it drenched a figure on
the deck and rocked two more below deck. The man at the helm tried his hardest
to gain some semblance of control. The sea had been wild tonight.
Whoosh! Another huge wave drenched him. He started to shiver as lightning
flashed in the distance. When the bolt lit up his surroundings, he thought he
saw some dark thing on the horizon ahead.
Squinting his eyes, he couldn’t quite make out what it was. There was
definitely no lighthouse nearby, and it looked too flat and wide to be a ship
or creature.
The man attempted to wipe the water from his eyes, to no avail. Soon, he told
himself, they’d reach that thing up ahead, and the sun would rise, and he and
his family would be safe – hopefully.
 
Splotch!
“Alice!” Brandon Beachy cautioned his daughter. “Look out!”
Alice Minor-Beachy only laughed, a cute, babyish laugh. Her parents, Mike and
Brandon, couldn’t believe she was going to be about one year old soon. She
splashed mud onto Joy Floyd-Ivory, her constant playmate and best friend, and
also Shae, the friendly monkey that was Jonny Venters’ pet. Joy only laughed.
Mud was everywhere this morning – last night there had been a storm.
But the inhabitants of the island had been safe and sound in their comfortable
shelters.
“Hi, guys,” Bubba Ivory said as she came over to them along with Gavin Floyd.
“Hey,” Mike and Brandon replied. Alice tried to greet them, but all that came
out was a friendly sound. The others all smiled.
Suddenly Tyler Pastornicky, Andrelton Simmons, and Chris Johnson came barreling
past them toward the beach.
“Whoa,” Bubba exclaimed. “What’s going on, guys?”
“We think we saw something off the shore,” Johnson replied.
“We’re gonna go check it out,” Tyler added.
“Whatever,” Gavin said, turning his attention back to the babies.
When the adventurous trio reached the beach they were taken by surprise. Before
them sat a beautiful boat, not too much smaller than their original ship that
they crashed offshore what seemed like ages ago. For a minute the three of them
just stood there in awe. On the clean white hull was the word Stella.
Before any of them could say anything an anchor fell from one side and made a
great splash in the water, and three people made their way into a lifeboat.
When they reached the shore a man with tan skin and dark brown hair said,
“Thank goodness, there are people here!”
“Hi,” Johnson said. “You guys lost?”
“Kind of,” the man replied. “Our navigation computer isn’t working and the bad
storm last night made us pretty much lose sight of everything. I’m Tommy La
Stella, by the way, and these are my sister and brother, Shelby and Kelly.”
Tommy looked to be about twenty-six or so, and both of his siblings were
younger. Shelby was a pretty girl, about twenty-three, with long, sandy-golden
hair. Their littler, teenage brother Kelly was very short and thin with wispy,
almost downy hair and big eyes. He looked small and vulnerable, as far as
Johnson was concerned.
“Welcome to the island, then,” Andrelton put in. Each of the Braves introduced
themselves.
“So, exactly what island is this?” Tommy asked, taking in the beautiful
scenery. “I know it’s not Madagascar.”
Johnson looked to Andrelton, who looked to Tyler, who looked back to Johnson.
“Uh…”
“Brave Island,” Johnson said after a pause.
“No, New Atlanta,” Tyler put in.
Andrelton sighed. “It doesn’t have a name,” he told the La Stellas.
The three siblings looked at each other. “So, it’s just you three here, then?”
Shelby asked.
Tyler jumped up to answer her. “Oh no,” he said, smiling and letting out a puff
of air. “There’s a whole bunch of us. We used to be a baseball team.”
“A whole baseball team?” Shelby looked like she was impressed.
“Yeah,” Tyler went on.
“How did you get here?” Tyler told her, along with how they’d made their living
there and had ultimately grown so much closer in the process. They had been
through a lot, and Tyler was pleased to know that Shelby would be sharing in
that soon.
“What’s over there?” Shelby asked him, pointing up the beach to several mounds
of stones on the sand.
“Oh,” Tyler’s face darkened. “That’s the cemetery.”
“Cemetery?”
“Yeah. We’ve lost several members of our family – one way or another. But don’t
concern yourself with that now. Come on! Let me show you the rest of this
place. I think you’ll probably like it.” He reached for Shelby’s hand and led
her into the trees.
 
“So wait a minute,” Kelly La Stella said to Johnson as they staked out a spot
for construction for a new shelter. “We’re just going to live here from now
on?”
“Yep,” Johnson said, as if it were a completely normal situation. “Your brother
said the Stella can’t navigate anymore.”
“And I’ll never go back to the United States?”
“That’s not completely out of the question,” Johnson said. “But it’s unlikely.
I mean, this place isn’t on any map. It’s too small and isolated. It’s just us
out here – in our own little world.” Kelly was a bit disconcerted by Johnson’s
big, intense blue eyes and his fateful words, and took a step back from him.
Johnson could tell that the boy was somewhat sad at their unexpected move.
All the inhabitants of the island introduced themselves to the La Stellas. When
Julio Teheran stepped out the door of his shelter to see what all the commotion
was, he smiled at the new faces. He was followed out by David Carpenter and
Alex Wood.
“I guess we could help out with the new shelter,” David said.
“Sure,” Julio agreed.
Meanwhile, Shelby kept asking Tyler questions about life on the island. He
showed her everything there was to see, including the Fate Tree.
“Why is it called the Fate Tree?” She asked him.
“Because it’s been a crucial part of several of our fates. Some bad things have
happened here…but also some pretty good things.”
“Like what good things?”
“Like – marriage proposals. And…”
Shelby’s face was expectant. “What?”
He looked at her like they both knew what he was thinking, but he wouldn’t say
it out loud. Having her there made it much more awkward. “You know.”
 
“I can’t believe you have this…cool little secret society out here in the
middle of the ocean. I never would have expected it.”
Tyler laughed quietly. “Well, when you put it that way…” They were still out
walking together, now along the beach. It was a beautiful evening, and the
first stars were poking out. “Just a few years ago I would never have expected
it either. Or that I’d be a part of it.” He looked at her, then he looked up.
“The stars are beautiful here.”
“I bet they are.”
Tyler looked back at her. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” she said. A melancholy note had crept into her voice. “It’s just that –
this guy I used to know – he and I used to look at the stars every night. It
was kind of our thing.”
Tyler thought for a second. “What happened to him? I mean, you don’t have to
say, if you don’t want.”
Shelby shook her head. “It’s okay,” she said. “It’s just, I still don’t
understand it. When he left he said, ‘Shelby, you’re just too…I don’t know.
Something rubs me the wrong way. I need something more’ and that was it. Just
like that. I thought it was love. I thought wrong.”
“Oh, Shelby,” Tyler said, immediately wanting to hurt the man that hurt her.
“No, it’s not your fault,” she said, putting a hand up. “I should’ve known
better.”
Tyler stopped and stood in front of her. “No, Shelby,” he said with conviction.
“He’s the one that was wrong.”
Shelby couldn’t help but smile at that.
“I saw that,” he said, starting to laugh.
She let out a puff of air. “I mean, does love really exist?” She wrung her
hands. “Ever since then…I don’t think so.”
“Shelby,” Tyler said with care. He put out his hands to her. “No.” Their hands
brushed when Shelby pulled hers back. Tyler seemed to miss a beat. “I mean, no,
not like that, it does exist. Ugh…” He scratched the back of his neck, as if
he’d said the wrong thing or made himself look foolish.
But Shelby didn’t think he was being foolish. She chuckled.
 
Bubba Ivory woke up the following morning, and something was different. It had
seemed like a normal night – Gavin lay next to her, still soundly sleeping. She
smiled down at him. She heard monkeys playing happily in the trees above her
head.
Suddenly she lurched forward unexpectedly. A terrible wave of nausea had hit
her out of nowhere. She immediately grabbed Gavin’s arm, waking him up.
“I think I’ve got morning sickness.” It was barely a whisper.
“M-morning sickness?” Gavin asked groggily as he turned over to try and sit up.
“You don’t mean…”
“Yeah,” she said. “It feels just like when I was pregnant with Joy.” She made a
face and resisted the urge to throw up.
Gavin sat up slowly, glancing over at their daughter, who still slept a few
feet away from them. He gently took Bubba’s arm and half-smiled. “Well,” he
said quietly, “in a few more days we’ll probably know for sure.”
 
Shelby wanted to go back out walking with Tyler that morning, and Tyler
immediately obliged her.
“So what do you think this island should be named?” She asked.
Tyler thought a moment. “I liked New Atlanta,” he said. “But now that I think
about it, not all of us had ties to Atlanta.”
“What did all of you have ties to?”
“Well, that’s just it,” Tyler said. “We have to include you in it too now.”
Shelby laughed. “I guess so, huh?”
“You’ve seen most of it now,” Tyler said. “What do you think it should be
called?”
Shelby looked up at the greenery, the partly clouded blue sky, and the general
beauty all around. She heard bird calls and the monkeys playing.
Then she looked back to Tyler and leaned closer to him. “Paradise,” she
whispered with a smile.
Tyler laughed and put an arm casually around her back. “That’s a great name.”
They laughed together until the sun went down.
 
Tyler and Shelby lay on the grass underneath the Fate Tree, staring up at its
blossoms. Every now and then, a colorful, soft petal would float down near
them. It was like the most beautiful rain Shelby could imagine.
Tyler glanced over at her. “You’re not feeling…down again, are you?”
Shelby half smiled. “No,” she said, and Tyler believed it. “Why would I be?”
Tyler shook his head, shrugging. He couldn’t reply to that.
Shelby didn’t stop smiling. “I’ve got you now.”
Tyler was taken by surprise. He looked back at her, letting out a puff of air.
He smiled. “Thanks.”
Shelby sat up then. Staring at her lap, she said, “I know I shouldn’t do this,
but…” She lay back down, right up close to Tyler now.
Tyler chuckled quietly. “Why shouldn’t you?”
“The last guy I curled up to left me a mess.”
“That doesn’t mean I will.”
She grabbed his hand, pulling him up to sit up along with her. She sighed,
looking downward.
“Hey,” Tyler said comfortingly, summoning up his courage. He put a gentle
finger under her chin and brought her face back up. Their eyes met, and Tyler
smiled. Shelby smiled, half-heartedly. Then, giving in, Tyler finally kissed
her.
Shelby braced herself against Tyler’s shoulders, grabbing onto them as she
gently fell back to the grass. Tyler braced himself against the ground. He
leaned over her, both of them smiling.
Shelby then pulled Tyler down closer and kissed him again. They rolled over
onto their sides, their hands now all over each other.
Some time later, both of them out of breath, they lay there silently, looking
at the blossoms again. Shelby asked Tyler if he’d like to sleep in her shelter.
“Sure,” he replied, even though he knew it wasn’t even finished.
 
Later the next afternoon, Andrelton Simmons retreated to his shelter.
This strange flushing had made his skin very warm, almost feverish, and his
head was beginning to ache. Lying down, Chris Johnson came in to check on him.
“I’ll be fine,” Andrelton told him.
“You sure? Do you need anything?”
Andrelton thought for a second, then said, “Some cold water.”
“Got it,” Johnson replied, rushing out the door.
“Hey, where’s Simba?” Freddie Freeman asked Johnson as he passed by him in the
clearing, appearing to be in a hurry.
“He wants some water,” Johnson replied. “I think he might have a fever or
headache or something.”
He told Evan Gattis, their other bunkmate, and brought Andrelton the water.
Andrelton coughed before thanking him. It was such a relief, both to his throat
and his skin. He found himself dozing off, and the others left him in quiet.
 
Andrelton’s dreams were like none he’d ever had before.
He was standing in a field, everything serene and calm as could be. The colors
around him were subtle and light, like paint colors for a newborn baby’s room.
There was no sun in the sky that he could see, even though it was clearly
bright daylight.
Someone threw something toward him. A baseball. Andrelton picked it up off the
ground, wondering what was going on. Then he understood.
It was his stepbrother he hadn’t seen since he was fourteen. He ran to
Andrelton, yelling something incoherent, but it sounded like he wanted to play.
Andrelton threw the ball back to him. When he did he started wondering why
things were changing so fast. This was his life, wasn’t it?
Only his stepbrother never played ball with him before.
 
Later in the evening, the next time anyone checked on Andrelton, Evan came in
to find him tossing and turning. He got down to his knees beside him. Andrelton
was drenched in sweat, even though the weather wasn’t any hotter than usual.
Evan could hear him struggle to breathe.
He called Johnson in. No one had experienced anything like this since coming to
the island. After agreeing on this fact, and not knowing what to do for their
bunkmate, they went to fetch Amos Mosquito.
“It looks like some kinda flu, or maybe bad cold,” he said, quietly watching
Andrelton. “He looks like he’s burnin’ alive. Get more cold water.”
They did, while several others followed Johnson and Evan, asking them questions
about what was going on all along the way. None of their questions were
honestly answered.
They stayed with Andrelton the rest of the night, constantly trying to comfort
him as he lay there, tortured and helpless in his fiery sleep. Jason Heyward
came in later and took in the situation.
 
It became more and more dire as the night continued. Luis Avilan went to bed
with a headache, but he didn’t tell anyone, including his bunkmates. They
noticed that he was quieter than usual, though, before going to bed.
Several other islanders hung in and around Andrelton’s shelter late into the
night. They could only watch his condition worsen as his previously tan skin
grew paler and he sweated so much he started looking like he’d lost some
weight. His tossing and turning slowly subsided after some time. The one who
stayed by his side every moment was Johnson.
He grasped Andrelton’s limp hand, feeling his throat tighten. It was now very
late. They kept cold water on Andrelton at all times, and Amos had given him a
natural remedy, but it didn’t seem to help.
After a couple more hours had passed and dawn wasn’t far off, Andrelton still
hadn’t woken up. Johnson, absentmindedly placing an exhausted hand on
Andrelton’s belly, finally realized he wasn’t breathing.
 
The news sent a ripple throughout camp. Andrelton Simmons was no longer with
them. No one could believe it. The next day there would be a funeral.
Johnson couldn’t cry. He was definitely the closest person to Andrelton for the
last several years. His world had been torn apart, and there were no words.
Just the hushed whispers and long faces scattered throughout camp.
Alex Wood stood next to David Carpenter, watching, as Andrelton’s body was
brought out and prepared for burial by Amos and Jason. He struggled to hold
back tears as he vividly remembered Jordan Schafer’s death. He buried his face
in David’s shoulder. David held him gently. It had happened too fast.
A couple of notable absences from the funeral procession were Luis Avilan and
Kris Medlen. Craig Kimbrel and Jonny Venters went back to check on Medlen some
time after getting up. Medlen hadn’t gotten up at all. He’d fallen asleep very
late last night, but the rest of them weren’t that tired. They noticed his
forehead was very warm and his breathing sounded rushed and shallow, and Amos
came to see him as soon as he’d seen Luis.
Luis was doing much worse since last night. He still slept, covered in sweat,
pale, and breathing haggardly, much like Andrelton had been. Every now and then
he would cough, and little droplets of a dark liquid would splatter on his
chest and around his head.
“Oh my god,” Ramiro Pena said, seeing him upon entering the shelter.
Amos shook his head, his voice melancholy. “I’m afraid he’s got the same thing
Simba had.”
Ramiro and Ervin Santana, his other bunkmates, exchanged glances and hugged
each other.
 
Luis didn’t last the afternoon.
Just as they had finished preparing Andrelton for burial, they now had another
one, and the actual funeral itself would have to wait.
Halfway through preparing for the funeral Evan Gattis started to complain of
tiredness and a headache. He went back to bed with some cold water. Medlen’s
condition was also worsening, and Alice Minor-Beachy had begun coughing. Her
parents kept begging Amos to do something, quickly.
By this time, Johnson felt quite numb.
 
Less than twenty-four hours later, Evan Gattis and Kris Medlen had joined the
mass funeral, in the same manner as Andrelton Simmons. It still hadn’t taken
place yet because of all the sudden developments and general frenzy. Everyone
else was going through the motions at this point, and there wasn’t a smile to
be seen anywhere. Johnson’s shelter was empty now, and it felt even hollower to
him than on the surface.
He stood alone in there, glancing over at what used to be his and Andrelton’s
bed. Flashing before his eyes were all the times they spent together, right
there, pleasing each other well into the night, nothing holding them back.
Never again. Why, nature?
He was fairly sure he felt more angry than depressed. He looked to the door of
the empty shelter and went to it. Surveying the clearing, he saw most of the
others either making preparations for the funeral or caring for the currently
sick. Alice’s condition stayed fairly the same, her coughing now starting to
produce traces of blood. Everywhere Johnson looked people were covered in
sweat, hair and clothes unwashed, eyes sad, tired and droopy.
His piercing blue gaze wandered to the La Stella brothers, Tommy and Kelly.
Work on their shelter had been brought to a halt. Some primal urge seized him
as he stared at the youngest of the La Stellas.
He went out into the clearing, stone-faced.
 
Ten minutes later Johnson held the squirming Kelly with his back against the
wall of his empty shelter.
“I know, I’m not myself,” Johnson breathed heavily, looking down at Kelly with
eyes that must have been inhuman. “But these are hardly ordinary times. If you
just open your mind a little…you might even enjoy it.” He made a tiny grin as
he squeezed Kelly’s arms, leaned down, and kissed his lips, somewhat roughly.
Kelly steadied himself against the larger man, not knowing what to do. He’d
never been pursued this way before. He didn’t think Tommy or anybody else had
seen Johnson persuasively pulling him toward the empty shelter.
But Johnson was an adult, and now they lived together. It might bring them
closer together in this tough time. It might be good for them both.
Kelly, not seeing the harm in it, started to tentatively kiss Johnson back.
Johnson then brought them to his bed, and now Kelly knew there was no going
back. He made an oomph sound as Johnson thrust him down on his back, looming
over him, as he pulled at his clothes. As they came off Kelly started to feel
less and less secure, and Johnson, sensing it somehow, leaned down and kissed
him again. Kelly tentatively reached up and brushed Johnson’s face with his
fingertips, feeling his light facial hair, trying to reassure himself that it
was alright.
But then Johnson continued, almost methodically, with one of his favorite
activities: getting off. Only this time, it was more a raw, biological need
that he was satisfying, like hunger. And it made him feel more amazing than
usual, given the circumstances.
Johnson penetrated him with ease despite Kelly being very small. Kelly tried to
be brave and not yell out at the top of his lungs, but some sound escaped him
and he didn’t know if anyone outside heard. He dug his nails into the bedding,
squeezing his eyes shut until he thought they might be squished themselves. He
barely heard the taboo noises Johnson made as they rocked back and forth. He
thought the shelter was going to eventually fall down around them.
After a while Kelly thought it would never end. He was shocked when he found
himself getting off as well as Johnson. As Johnson was finishing Kelly let out
one last moan and went limp as a rag.
Both were silent as Johnson backed away and retrieved his clothes from the
floor. Kelly still lay motionless on the bed.
Johnson stared at him once he was dressed. It was like he didn’t know what to
say at first, then he found his voice: “You’d better get dressed now.”
The voice was deep, and Kelly flinched when he heard it. He quickly got up,
scrambling to retrieve his clothes, and got them on. He glanced up at Johnson
one last time, who wouldn’t meet his gaze, then hung his head and left the
shelter.
 
“Mike? Do you have any ideas?” Brandon asked his husband.
“I’m afraid not.”
Alice was beginning to tire earlier than normal. They looked down at their
daughter, lying in her bed in their shelter, helpless. They had been keeping
her hydrated, but she didn’t seem to be able to kick this bloody cough, and now
she was sleeping more than normal. Mike and Brandon were out of ideas, and so
was Amos Mosquito.
“I don’t know what to do,” Brandon whispered. Mike thought he saw a tear drip
off his husband’s face.
 
Ervin Santana sat up abruptly in bed. He was covered in sweat, and his
dreadlocks were a mess, but thank goodness he didn’t have a fever and he felt
fine. But for how much longer?
Ramiro Pena lay next to him, sound asleep. He touched the younger man’s
forehead gently. Normal temperature. Phew. It was only a dream.
But now he knew how likely it was that that nightmare of his would come true.
Ervin shook his head. Just that afternoon Justin Upton had gone to bed, ill,
with the same symptoms as the others. In his sleep he had seen Ramiro die, and
Jason, and Bubba, and Luis – again. And finally, he himself was falling to the
ground, feverish in his despair. He knew in his heart still that the baby,
Alice, also had the epidemic.
He couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t watch any more of his family die.
He got up out of bed and went to the door. Tripping on his way out, he thought
he heard Ramiro mumble from behind him, “Erv?”
He didn’t look back. Taking off across the clearing, he breathlessly headed
straight for the shoreline where the Stella was anchored.
“Erv, what are you doing?”
He turned around just as he was sloshing through the water, about to climb up
to the deck. “Ramiro, go back to bed!”
“You come back to bed!”
“Ervin!” Several of the others had followed Ramiro there and now stood on the
beach. “Ervin!” Ervin ignored them and boarded the Stella, raising the anchor
as quickly as he could. A tear dripped down his cheek as the boat lurched. He
watched his family scramble around, bringing out a raft made of logs. Several,
including Jason and Ramiro, jumped onto it and set off on the water after him,
screaming the whole way. “I can’t take it anymore,” Ervin called.
“Come back, Erv!” Ramiro cried.
“Ramiro, you have to understand,” Ervin yelled back. “This is my survival
instinct!”
“Erv, look out!”
“Whoa!” Ervin flailed to the deck. He had lost control of the brig and now the
Stella was dangerously close to capsizing.
And Ervin knew he couldn’t swim.
He frantically grabbed the railing at the edge of the deck. Scrabbling for a
better grip, he looked out to see where the others’ raft was, but it was too
far away by now. The Stella finally capsized in a wave, a fair distance off the
shore, and Ervin was tossed down into the water.
“Ervin!” He heard one last scream. He thought it was Ramiro, but wasn’t sure.
The water started lapping around his ears, and his sense of hearing slowly went
away. The boat was out of reach. He flailed his arms around, trying to discover
the secret to swimming in the last few seconds before it was too late. But then
his head dipped under the next wave that was crashing toward him, and pretty
soon, a sharp pain had filled his chest. But as quickly as it had come, it
dissipated, and Ervin opened his eyes (or did he?) to see blackness.
 
The next day, a new memorial was arranged in the cemetery. Everyone had gloomy
looks on their faces. Ramiro was inconsolable, convinced that it was all his
fault. It was as if the previous night were some kind of nightmare. Only it
wasn’t, and there was no getting Ervin back.
Bubba kept very close to Gavin the entire day. Her morning sickness hadn’t gone
away. They were quite sure of it at this point: Bubba was pregnant.
But it only mattered if she could survive the epidemic, so they told no one
yet.
Justin Upton lay in his shelter on the brink of death all afternoon, his
breathing getting shallower and his skin getting paler, and later in the
evening, he finally succumbed and joined the others in eternal silence.
“When is this ever going to end?” Mike Minor said, pacing back and forth inside
his and Brandon’s shelter. Alice was only getting worse as time had passed.
While the others who got the flu died within twelve to twenty-four hours or so,
Alice was lingering on for several days, only getting gradually sicker.
“Maybe it means she’ll survive it,” Brandon said tentatively.
“Brandon, look at her,” Mike countered. She lay in her crib-bed, coughing up
small droplets of blood on everything, breathing heavily, tossing back and
forth like she was restless, and her previously tan skin becoming markedly
paler. Mike blinked sadly. “She’s not – she’s not going to make it. It’s only
because she’s so young.”
“Well what do you expect anyone to do?” Brandon asked, now upset.
Mike swallowed. “There’s…nothing else we can do but…euthanize her.”
Brandon did a double-take at his husband. “What?”
“You heard,” Mike said. “Put her out of this suffering.”
“Mike!”
“I can’t stand to watch this!” He slapped both his hands onto his head. “Surely
it would be better – right? What would you want, if you were in her position?”
Brandon looked sadly to their daughter, sweat streaming down her forehead. “I
don’t know,” he said quietly.
Mike took one more look at them and left the shelter.
“Hey, Mike, is everything okay?” Freddie Freeman asked as he entered the
clearing. “I thought I heard some…raised voices…”
Mike sighed before saying, “It’s Alice. It’s apparent now she’s…not going to be
getting better. We think it’s just affecting her differently because she’s so
young. I can’t stand to watch her suffer anymore.”
Freddie nodded. “Want to talk to Amos or Jason?”
Mike looked to Freddie. “Yeah.”
 
“So you think we should put her out of her misery.”
“I don’t see what other option we have,” Mike told Jason Heyward. “I don’t know
exactly how much pain she’s in, but it looks like a hell of a lot. I would
rather take it from her and go through it myself, but I can’t do that, and I
don’t want her to suffer.”
Jason’s big brown eyes seemed to bore through Mike. “And who would undertake
this task?”
Mike looked from Jason to Amos. That thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. “I
don’t know. But not me.”
“It was your idea,” Amos said. “I’ve done some things I ain’t exactly proud of,
but I don’t intend to make euthanizin’ a baby one of them.”
“B-but she’s my daughter,” Mike said. “I couldn’t-”
“Then find someone else,” Jason said simply.
After Mike left the shelter, dejected, Amos whispered to Jason, “Animals, other
prey, sure, but one of our own? I don’t think so. It just ain’t in my
programmin’. An’ I don’t think it’s in his, either.”
 
That evening, David Hale went to bed ill as Mike talked to everyone else in the
village about possibly helping him to euthanize Alice. Not one of them wanted
to lay a finger on her.
He went back to his shelter, where Alice was sleeping soundly. Brandon watched.
“Brandon, no one on this island wants to euthanize her.”
“Except?”
Mike sighed. “The things they said – I just don’t get it. I don’t want her to
suffer anymore. Don’t the others?”
“I’m sure they don’t,” Brandon replied. “But sometimes, there really is nothing
we can do. What did Amos say?”
“That it was my idea, so I’d have to be the one.”
Brandon’s half-lidded eyes rested on Alice. He went over to her. “She’s not
suffering now.”
Mike followed, resting a hand on Brandon’s shoulder.
 
Mike woke up in the middle of the night, covered in sweat and panting loudly.
He’d seen Alice die in his dream, and he couldn’t take it. Tears dripped down
his face, falling to his lap unseen in the dark.
He looked past Brandon to their baby. She was still sleeping soundly from
earlier in the evening. He crawled from the bed and went to her, watched her.
She would wake up tomorrow or later and cough – that awful, bloody cough. Her
skin would become even paler and she would be weaker still. She would waste
away until she was just a skeleton – slowly.
Mike gently lifted her from her crib and took her outside. Retrieving his stone
knife from his pocket, he set Alice down gently on the ground and hovered over
her. She didn’t wake up.
He couldn’t take his eyes from her peaceful, still form. She was so helpless.
Mike smoothed her light brown hair from her sweaty forehead. Behind his back he
grazed the tip of his knife with his forefinger. Could he make it quick enough
to be worth it?
He brought it out, directly over Alice’s heart. Unwittingly, Mike’s hand
started to tremble. He put his other hand behind the girl’s neck to support it,
to try to steady himself, but to no avail. His fingers felt like they were made
of stone and the knife was rattling around in his hand. Another tear dripped
off his face.
Mike squinted his eyes as he knelt there, holding his daughter under his shaky
knife. Why did it have to come to this?
Tears. More tears. They flooded Mike’s eyes so quickly they dripped onto Alice
as she slept. His hand now shook violently. Finally, he dropped it to the side
as if he’d lost the nerves in his fingers suddenly and clutched Alice close
against his chest.
His tears dripped off her already damp head.
 
The following day, Ramiro Pena had gone to bed ill with the dreaded symptoms,
and David Hale had already succumbed to them. Everyone who heard the news
groaned to themselves, wondering when it would end and if anyone at all would
be left before it was all over. It was a cloudy day, as Tyler Pastornicky
remembered.
He was still staying in the La Stellas’ shelter, which was very slowly getting
closer to being finished, with Shelby. He’d found no kind of happiness like
this before. They’d giggled and told stories all night long. It helped ease the
pain of inexplicably losing so much of the family so fast.
But this night was to be different than all those other happy nights.
 
Tyler thought it was probably sometime past midnight. He’d dozed off, Shelby
curled up next to him, her breath even and slow in sleep.
He heard some movement over by the door of the shelter, and when he looked up,
he thought he caught a glimpse of the trees outside before the door fell closed
in the gloom. Careful not to wake Shelby or Kelly, who also slept nearby, he
got up and looked out.
Two figures retreated off in the direction of the beach, where the Stella used
to be anchored. Tyler followed, curious as to whom the other was. One was Tommy
La Stella.
They moved quickly, because as Tyler followed by listening for the rustling of
leaves and footsteps, he found himself in a jog to keep up. After a few minutes
he heard voices – one angry, the other defensive.
 
Tommy La Stella’s back was suddenly flattened against a thick tree trunk. “I
knew it,” Dan Uggla snarled in his face. “Well, I…I know it now, anyway!”
“Dan,” Tommy said, quietly shrinking, “what is it you want? I’m sorry!”
“Sorry’s not good enough,” Dan replied, menacingly. “Sorry doesn’t bring back
Justin and Evan and Andrelton and all the others!”
“I had no idea this would happen,” Tommy ducked his head as Dan swooped closer
to him, firmly planting a thick hand on the tree trunk above his head.
He grabbed the smaller man’s shirt collar. “Well it did,” Dan said. “And you’re
the one that has to pay.”
“Dan, I swear, I had no idea! There’s nothing wrong with us, you have to
believe me, Dan!” Tommy was on the verge of tears as the frightened words
gushed from his mouth. Dan forcefully took the smaller man by the wrist and
dragged him toward the beach. From his low vantage point Tommy could see Dan
carried his stone knife in his other hand.
 
Tyler broke into a run when he saw the larger man take who must have been Tommy
by the wrist and start to drag him. “Hey,” he called out. He was nearly out of
breath already. “Hey!”
They ignored him. Tommy was trying his best to get back onto his feet, to no
avail.
 
They cleared the trees, reaching the beach. Dan flung Tommy to the sand like he
was a ragdoll. Tommy scrambled to wipe his eyes clean as Dan rattled on about
how guilty he was for existing and coming to the island.
“Dan, calm the fuck down! You have to believe me!”
“Why should I believe you? You’re still here, and the others are…are dead!” he
spat the last word down at Tommy as if he were a flea-ridden rat.
“Dan…no,” Tommy panted as he scrabbled around in the sand at Dan’s feet. As his
luck would have it, he found a flat, white shell with rough edges nearby.
Dan bared his knife blade.
 
Tyler broke out of the trees suddenly, sending leaves flying. “DAN!”
Even though it was a scream loud enough to be heard across the island, Dan
didn’t respond. His angry breath was so loud Tyler could hear it from a few
feet away. Dan’s bloodshot eyes were fixed on Tommy La Stella, lying in the
sand at his feet. He let out a growl and fell to his knees over him, raising
his knife.
Tyler didn’t know what else to do other than plunge forward towards them and
try to stop Dan. The reason for it all was becoming clearer in his head. By the
time he reached the other two men, it was too late to do anything else.
The knife descended – right into Tyler’s side.
He had jumped in front of Tommy right as Tommy swung his shell edgeways up and
around at the side of Dan’s head. Dan fell off to the side on the impact, blood
spilling from his temple – and Tyler lay next to Tommy, bleeding as well. Dan
was suddenly still.
Tommy, horrified, pulled the knife as gently and quickly as he could from
Tyler’s waist. “Tyler, Tyler!”
Tyler gasped for breath. “T-Tommy…”
Tommy let out a frightened whimper as he tried frantically to stop the bleeding
with Tyler’s shirt. Tyler tried to sit up – but his strength was fading, fast.
About a minute later several of the others burst through the trees and ran
forward towards them. “What was that scream?” Jason wondered aloud, before
exclaiming, “Oh, god! What happened?”
Tommy looked up, pure sadness in his eyes. “Dan,” he said, trying to hold back
tears. “He tried to kill me, but Tyler…he…” He couldn’t finish.
“Tyler!” Shelby La Stella cried, running to him and falling to her knees beside
him. She took in his wound with shock, then looked back to her brother. “He
took it f-for – for you?”
Tommy nodded, his hands on his head.
She took Tyler’s hand as he lay there, slowly fading away. “Tyler,” she said,
“Tyler, please.”
“Shelby,” he whispered.
A tear dripped down Shelby’s face. Tyler brought his other trembling hand up
over his side, but Shelby stopped him. “It’ll be okay.” She didn’t know if she
was telling him, or herself. “It’ll be okay!”
Tyler’s face was starting to turn a little paler than normal. “Shelby, I…I had
a wonderful time…with you.”
Shelby shook her head. “Tyler, don’t talk like that!”
He squeezed her hand with what little strength he had left. Jason came over and
looked at his wound. It was too wide to be stopped up with a piece of cloth,
and Tyler had already lost a lot of blood.
“Tyler!” Shelby cried, more tears appearing around her eyes. She shook her
head. “Tyler, I’m pregnant!”
All the others looked suddenly to her as Tyler whispered, with a tiny smile,
“I’m sure you’ll have a beautiful child.” He sucked in his breath then and
winced at a new rush of pain.
“Jason, can’t we do anything?” Someone else asked.
Jason shook his head sadly. “I’m afraid there’s really nothing. Get him some
water to drink.”
Someone brought the water as Shelby sat there, begging Tyler to live. He only
turned paler and became even weaker. Jason turned his gaze to Tommy. “Dan had
been expressing his dislike of you guys ever since Simba got sick,” he said.
“He had suspected you of bringing the sickness.”
Tommy looked at the ground. Dan’s still form lay a mere foot away. Somehow, he
had still managed to hold back his tears. “Sometimes I wonder if he was right.”
“Tyler!” Shelby cried as his eyes started to flutter closed. His breathing
slowed, and Shelby bent over him, unable to hold back the tears now.
 
Just mere moments after Tyler was gone, Julio Teheran and Alex Wood appeared
out of the trees.
“Alex!” David Carpenter exclaimed from the beach. He had beaten them there,
Julio realized – along with Chris Johnson, who had been standing next to him.
“David?” Alex asked, puzzled. “Where were you? When we heard that scream, you
weren’t in our shelter.” He took in the scene on the beach. “Oh, no!”
David scratched the back of his neck, making his way over to them. “Uh…” he
muttered. “Tyler – he’s dead!” David conveniently changed the subject.
Alex’s face darkened. “I see,” he said sadly. “You didn’t have anything to do
with this…did you?”
“Of course not,” David replied quickly.
“Then what were you and Johnson doing here together? Julio and I were looking
all over for you.” He motioned with his hands.
David’s eyes darted back and forth. “What?” he asked, trying to sound appalled.
“Me and Johnson?”
Julio’s eyes narrowed then. He studied Johnson, who had this blank, detached
look on his face. He didn’t look very tired, even though it was the middle of
the night. For that matter, David didn’t look too tired, either. Both of their
hairs were awfully tousled…
“They were together,” Julio said emotionlessly. He then remembered that Johnson
lived alone now.
Alex’s head snapped back toward his husband. “David?” He said, in a voice that
was nearly a whisper. “Is…is that true?”
David shook his head, regret pouring through him. “Alex…”
Alex shook his head then. Julio caught him by the shoulders when he took a step
backward. Everyone else there, watching it all unfold, was eerily quiet.
“We’ll be going now,” Julio said quietly, barely audible over the waves of the
ocean, and he guided the stunned Alex back into the trees toward camp.
 
After everyone was filled in on exactly what had happened on the beach, they
made preparations to bury Dan and Tyler. Shelby never stopped crying, thinking
about her baby that would never know its brave young father.
David had turned to Johnson and lowered his voice as everyone was clearing out.
“Why, Johnson? Why does it always have to be those animal instincts of yours?”
Johnson took offense. He leaned closer. “Listen, I told you, Alex was never
going to know. How was I supposed to know Dan was going to go pull this? On
this one specific night?”
“Well now it’s going to cost me my marriage,” David said, anger creeping into
his voice. “I hope you’re happy.”
Johnson rubbed the top of his head in frustration and turned away.
 
Amos Mosquito hadn’t gone to the beach to see what the commotion was that
night. He was sure he’d hear about it when all the others came back to camp.
The truth was, he hadn’t been feeling too well that night. He didn’t think it
had been much more than an hour after that awful scream that Julio Teheran came
over to pay him a visit.
“Ye’re lucky I wasn’t asleep,” Amos said tiredly. “It hasn’t been coming that
easy recently anyway.”
“I know, Amos,” Julio replied. “For more reasons than one.”
“Well, you lookin’ for company, or what? I ain’t really the best choice, you
know. Somethin’ hurtin’ you? You ain’t sick now, are you?”
“Oh, no, thank goodness,” Julio said. “It’s…” He shook his head. Then, with a
hint of guilt, “Could I get a cup of that moonshine you’re always making?”
Amos held Julio’s gaze for a moment before saying, “I suppose. But only if you
spill the beans on what’s troublin’ ya.” He painstakingly got up from bed. “Now
I know somethin’s really botherin’ ya if ye’re asking for ’shine in the middle
a’ the night for the first time.”
Julio sighed before saying, quieter, “It’s Alex. David…he was sleeping with
Johnson earlier after we’d fallen asleep.”
Amos was visibly taken aback. “Johnson?”
“Yes,” Julio said sadly. “Alex just now fell back asleep, but I couldn’t. I
mean, it’s just awful. All the sickness, death, murder, and now this?” He took
a seat a few feet from the door. “What are we supposed to live for, now? We’ve
lost so much…even our marriages.”
The sound of pouring liquid filled the room. Julio got up, took the wooden cup
from Amos, and thanked him. “One cup tonight,” Amos said. “That’s it.” He
sighed. “Sometimes…I think the only reason we carry on is because we have
hope.”
“Hope?”
“Yeah. Hope that things will get better and all this crap’ll pass.” He coughed,
going back to bed. “Some people say that to hope in a hard time like this is
crazy, but it’s the only way things will get better.”
 
Julio sat there, thinking about what Amos had said. It didn’t make sense to
have hope. The pain he felt, the pain they all felt, just seemed like too much
to bear.
He could tell Amos had fallen asleep by his steady, slow breathing. It had
barely been ten minutes since he’d gotten back in bed. Julio stood, his cup of
moonshine empty, and went to put it back when another thought entered his head.
Taking caution to be extra quiet, he went over to the gourd jug of moonshine,
which sat under the table. Removing the lid he slowly poured himself another
cupful. Since Amos lived alone now and everyone else was back asleep, no one
disturbed him until several hours later, after dawn.
 
Alex Wood gently pulled open the door of Amos Mosquito’s shelter after calling
and not receiving an answer. He had woken up alone that morning, which never
happened – a tangible sign of the multiple tragedies of the previous night. It
made him feel extra down.
But when he went inside, his heart thudded violently for a different reason.
“Julio!” He cried, going to his bunkmate.
Julio lay in disarray on the floor of Amos’ shelter, unconscious, a cup and
some spilled moonshine lying near his hand. Amos was still asleep in his bed.
Alex went to Julio, shaking him, trying to get him to wake up. “Julio, no…”
Alex sobbed, fearing the worst. “Amos?” He asked tentatively, going to the
elder. He seemed uncomfortable, like his eyes were going crazy under their
lids, and restless in his sleep. His forehead was very hot when Alex touched
it.
He glanced over at the moonshine jug which sat nearby. Picking it up, he saw it
was very nearly empty. Grabbing Julio’s cup, he poured the rest and drank it
down himself. Then he went to go get Jason.
 
“I think he might pull out of it,” Jason said nearly twenty minutes later. “He
must have drunk most of it on an empty stomach. That’s a recipe for disaster,
but he’s young and strong.”
Julio lay on his bed back in his shelter with a select few gathered around,
including Alex. They poured lots of water down his throat, and he gagged a few
times, but got some down. Not long after, he was blinking awake.
“Ugh,” Julio moaned. “My…head.”
“Get something cool for him,” Jason told someone else. “And some food. And
somebody else, go check on Amos!”
“Julio,” Alex said, coming up close. “Why’d you do it, Julio? I was so…scared.”
Julio sighed. “I…couldn’t take the pain, I guess.”
 
David emerged in the doorway of his, Alex, and Julio’s shelter later that
morning with an ashamed look on his face. Everyone else had cleared out to let
Julio nap. He rolled over in his bed while Alex got up to face David
immediately.
“David,” Alex said in a pained voice.
“Alex, I’m sorry,” David burst out, going to Alex and falling to a knee. “I
am…so ashamed and full of regret now that I realize what I’ve done. I just want
you to know that I love you, and that’s why I married you. Anything I feel for
Johnson, or anybody else, is…physical. And that’s it.” He grabbed Alex’s hand.
Alex stared down at his husband in his pleadingly submissive position when a
soft voice at the door said, “Hey, guys? Mind if I come in?”
The door was pulled back slowly. It was Johnson.
“Hey, listen, guys, I feel terrible,” he gushed as he came inside. “But I know
a way that we can get over it.” Alex made a puzzled face as they looked to him.
“I messed this up, and I can fix it.” Johnson looked to Alex. “Alex, if you
sleep with me, then you’ll both have slept with me, and you’ll be on equal
ground.”
There was a shocked silence. Then Alex stuttered, “Wh-what?”
“David slept with me, so it would only be fair if you slept with me also. It’s
the only thing I can think of. I know y’all don’t want a divorce, and I feel
guilty about what happened. It was my fault and my doing, and now I want to
help. What do you think?”
Alex shook his head in confusion. The thought really had never entered his
mind, and thinking about it now, it seemed to make a little bit of sense, as
crazy as it sounded. The truth was, he was more depressed about the whole
situation than angry, and he was willing to try anything to fix it. Especially
since even Julio had taken it so hard as well.
He looked down to David. The surprise at the suggestion was plain on his face
but David didn’t seem opposed to the idea. “Alex,” he whispered. “If you want
to do it, do it. I won’t hold it against you or him…I want to save this
marriage.”
“I do too,” Alex whispered back.
David stood up and faced him. “Then go,” he whispered, leaning closer. “Do him.
For me.”
“Are you sure? This is crazy.”
“Never been surer in all my life.” David gently leaned forward and pecked
Alex’s cheek. “We’ll both have slept with him. So what?”
It sounded so funny, Alex thought at first that it was too comical an idea to
work. But then he saw the gentle, pleading look in David’s eyes. “Alright,” he
said tentatively.
His gaze slowly went to Johnson. He stood there, an eager-to-please look on his
face, intense blue eyes gleaming.
Alex broke away from David and slowly walked over to Johnson.
 
He brought Alex to his shelter, no one asking any questions as Johnson led Alex
by the hand. Once Johnson closed the door flap behind them he turned to face
the younger man. “Well,” he started, drawing close and putting his arms around
Alex’s shoulders, “care to come to bed?”
Alex thought of David as he looked into Johnson’s eyes. “Alright,” he said
quietly.
“Come on, Alex,” Johnson said, trying to loosen him up. “Cheer up.” Johnson lay
down and pulled Alex over on top of him, going for his lips. He wrapped a hand
around the back of Alex’s head while Alex steadied himself against Johnson’s
shoulder. Their lips brushed lightly before Alex shoved back.
Johnson’s eyes went wide as Alex suddenly sat back up, pushing off of him. “I
can’t!”
“Wh-what?” Johnson asked, shocked, as Alex got up and headed for the door.
“Wait, Alex!”
 
Alex burst back into his own shelter. David looked up abruptly.
“David,” Alex said, and went straight for his husband, who sat on the floor by
Julio’s bed. He sat right next to him, threw his arms around his neck, and
kissed his lips, hard.
David was so shocked he could hardly kiss back. When Alex pulled back and met
his eyes David asked, “Alex, what happened?”
“I couldn’t do it,” he replied, breathlessly. “I couldn’t have sex with him. I
love you!”
“But Alex, I thought-”
“It doesn’t matter!” He pulled David even closer, if that was possible, and
kissed him again.
 
It seemed that David’s and Alex’s romance wasn’t the only love that thrived in
the world of illness and death that had become the island. Earlier that
morning, Gavin Floyd had asked Bubba Ivory to marry him.
Word spread across camp at the same time that Ramiro Pena had not survived his
illness, Alice Minor-Beachy’s breathing had slowed, and Amos Mosquito found he
couldn’t get up out of bed.
 
“Amos!” Bubba cried, going to his bed with Gavin and Joy in tow.
“…Bubba,” Amos croaked, his voice hoarse. He coughed, careful to keep it
contained under the covers. “I’m…glad you’re here.”
“Amos, please don’t go,” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Please
don’t die.”
“Bubba, enough of that,” he said, stifling another cough. “You know I…always
hated to see you cry.”
“Amos,” she started with conviction, trying to hold back tears, “even though
you did some…not very nice things to me in the past, I want you to know
I…always sort of liked you…anyway.”
Amos managed a smile and wiped his eyes. “Good,” he said.
“And…me and Gavin have made a promise to each other. We’re gettin’ married.”
Amos’ eyebrows went up, but he didn’t look upset at all. In fact, he looked
rather positively about it.
“I’m glad fer ya.”
“Y-you are?”
“Bubba, it ain’t no secret that I ain’t long for this world. You deserve…to be
happy. That’s all that matters now.”
“Amos, you were more like a father to me!”
“An’ you were more like my rebellious teenage daughter, now I think about it.”
He coughed, blood staining the underside of his blanket this time. “And there
ain’t nothin’ wrong with that.”
“Amos!” Bubba started to cry over him. Gavin came over with Joy and put an arm
on her back.
“I’d rather…it’ a been me than you.” Amos wiped his sweaty forehead and pulled
the blanket up further around him. “Thanks fer…the time you did give me.”
He drifted off to sleep again as Bubba, Gavin and Joy sat by him, not letting
him die alone.
 
Alice Minor-Beachy passed away that same day as Amos and Ramiro had. The mass
funerals had long ago become commonplace, and several of the survivors were
already wondering if there would be anyone left by the time it was all said and
done.
But for now, they had to at least act like it was all said and done, because it
was time for a happy event to finally take place on Paradise Island.
 
Jason Heyward, David Carpenter, Alex Wood, and Julio Teheran (who had recovered
quite nicely, to everyone’s relief) helped out with the wedding planning for
Bubba and Gavin. They chose a beautiful, sunny afternoon. Everyone could
attend, because at this point, no one else had fallen ill.
They set up the spot on the beach not far from where Alex and David were
married. When the ceremony finally got underway, everyone huddled closer
together and sat on their logs in anticipation.
Bubba looked beautiful. There were white flowers around her neck, and her
rusty-red hair glowed in the light of the sun. Gavin and most of the others
beamed.
“Bubba Ivory,” Jason started, standing at the front between them, “do you take
Gavin Floyd to be your husband?”
“I do,” she said excitedly.
Gavin said I do, and the two of them hugged and kissed. Joy, who sat in the
front row, clapped happily, and the rest of the islanders likewise rejoiced.
Alex Wood was so happy he leaned over and kissed David, who sat next to him,
and then leaned the other way and kissed Julio, who sat opposite!
Everyone shared a good laugh and congratulated Bubba and Gavin. Then, to
everyone’s surprise, Bubba made an announcement: “I’m havin’ another baby!”
 
And she did – a beautiful little girl named Georgia. Gavin insisted on the
name. “It reminds me of our time in Atlanta,” he said. Georgia Floyd-Ivory had
her mother’s rusty red hair and Gavin’s blue eyes.
By the time she was born, eight and a half months after her parents’ wedding,
the illness that had plagued them was forgotten, but not the great people whose
lives it claimed, including Tyler Pastornicky, whose son was born not long
after Georgia.
 
Shelby had been spending lots of time in the water. It made her feel more
weightless, more buoyant. With the baby inside her growing to be quite large,
the gentle waves felt like a massage to her achy back.
She was in the water on a beautiful sunny afternoon, not far off the shore in
her favorite spot to swim, when she felt a rush deep in her belly. Clutching
her stomach, she realized it was time.
She called out to Kelly, who was swimming near her, and taking his hand, they
slowly and carefully headed for shore. Shelby suddenly felt exhausted and
collapsed gently (with Kelly’s help) to the sand just above the tide. Kelly
shouted with the best of them to alert the others at camp. Soon enough,
everyone showed up at the scene. Tommy and Kelly held their sister’s hands as
she labored for a few hours, with a couple of the others shading and fanning
her with big leaves. Later, as the sun dipped only a little ways from the
horizon, Shelby finally held in her arms a big, light blond baby boy.
She was crying by that time – tears of joy. Everyone crowded around to get a
look at the newest little one, especially his two proud uncles.
“What’s his name?” Tommy asked quietly.
Shelby never took her eyes off the baby. “I’ve been thinking,” she said, a tear
dripping off her face, “there’s only one name for a baby like this. His name is
Ty…Ty Pastornicky.”
Baby Ty opened his bright blue eyes. He looked just like his father.
“We’ll tell him all about his brave dad,” Kelly said. He smiled at Tommy and
Shelby.
“Yes,” she replied. “Yes we will.”
 
A few months later, to everyone’s absolute joy, Brandon Beachy gave birth
again.
Holding Mike’s hand the entire time, it felt easier this time for Brandon, for
some reason. All he could see in his mind was a cute, tan little girl with
brown hair and her father’s hazel eyes. As he squeezed Mike’s hand in one final
push, he knew his dream had come true.
Mike beamed with delight as he held up the tiny baby girl for everyone to see.
She looked so much like Alice it was as if she had come back. Brandon couldn’t
help but shed a tear when he saw her and took her in his arms.
“She’s not Alice,” Mike whispered to Brandon, “but she’s pretty damn close.”
Brandon only let out a happy puff of air in Mike’s face, smiling from ear to
ear. “We’ll never replace Alice,” he said.
“Are you going to name her after Alice?” Someone else asked as Brandon held
their newest baby.
He thought a moment. “I remember my mom always used to love lilies,” he said
softly, as if he were telling the baby a story. “They were her favorites.” He
stroked the girl’s fine, brown hair. “But when there weren’t any lilies growing
in our old yard, she would pick the amaryllises that did grow.” He looked up at
Mike. “I thought they were just as lovely.”
“It’s a beautiful name,” he agreed.
Brandon squeezed Amaryllis closer, and Mike hugged them both – while the rest
of the family gathered around. Somewhere, they all knew, several other faces
were also smiling with them.
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