The newsroom was buzzing with the day’s approaching deadline when Bevelyn Fynch, the secretary, bumped into a large pile of notes on the corner of Katherine Fletcher’s desk.
“Mrs. Fynch, I see you’ve left your mark,” Katherine said, typing furiously and keeping her eyes glued to the computer screen.
“I’m so sorry,” said the very pregnant secretary as she tried to bend down to gather up the strewn papers. Skinny as a rail except for her large belly, the secretary struggled with all her might to bend, but it wasn’t happening. Her glasses slid off the end of her nose as she struggled and, reaching for them, she started tipping forward when Katherine reached out and put her hand on a bony shoulder. This steadied the secretary.
“Did you need me, Mrs. Fynch?” asked the reporter, now giving her full attention. “Would you like to sit down?” and she offered her chair.
“Oh, thank you, no. Katherine, I am so sorry to hear about your mother. She must have been a wonderful woman.”
“Thank you, she was.”
“You have a message. The phones are–“
“–down, yes I heard,” interrupted Katherine. “What is it? Quickly, before you cause more devastation.” Her lips were smiling but her tone was flat.
“I’m afraid I dropped it,” said the secretary, looking at the mess beneath her feet. With a sigh but a tight smile, Katherine saved her story and dropped to her knees to gathered the scattered notes and messages. When all was in order, Bevelyn handed her a pink message slip covered in cyphers. Katherine struggled to make it out.
“Oh, no…” muttered the secretary, bringing her fingers to her mouth. “I think that was for…Mr. Andrews?”
“Perhaps,” Katherine suggested, “you could remember? Please try, Bevelyn, was it Mayor Bradford? I have been trying to reach him all day.”
“No, I would’ve remembered that,” laughed Bevelyn. “I think it was a family member of yours, your father?”
“Oh. Well, I can call him back, don’t worry about it Mrs. Fynch.”
“But he’s not at home, Katherine.” Nodding her head and laughing to herself, she continued, “That was it! Finally, right? Oh, Katherine, sometimes I wonder how I get by.”
“What did my father say?”
“Oh, yes. He’s gone away and doesn’t want you to worry.”
“Gone away? Where?”
“Oh, well, I believe he was in Montana somewhere. A town called…Chew Peach? Rather odd name for a town, isn’t it?”
“Thank you, Mrs. Fynch.”
“I’m not sure where that is. I’ve never heard of such a city, much less in Montana.”
“That’s all right–“
“But I could look it up if you want me to.”
“No, please–“
“The internet is still up, funny thing since the phone system is all messed up today. You would not believe the mess we have up there, my goodness but what a day, isn’t it?”
“Thank you Mrs. Fynch.”
“Did you know–“
“Mrs. Fynch, I hate to cut you short, but I’m on deadline here, and need to deal with my dad’s message.”
“Oh, of course, I’m so sorry. Pregnancy brain, you know.” With that she waddled away, dropping papers and knocking over piles of newspapers in her wake.
Katherine was instantly on the phone and dialing.
“Hello?” answered a drowsy voice.
“Rose, have you heard from Dad?”
“What? No. Do you know what time it is here?”
“Rose, he’s gone.”
“Gone where?”
“Um, Peru?”
“Well good for him. Goodnight.”
“Rose, listen, how do you think he got there?”
“By plane, Katherine. I’m sleeping. Finally.”
“I don’t mean physically how, I mean how did he afford it?”
“My doctor said insomniacs can take years to develop a normal sleep pattern– that’s without 3am phone calls–“
“He’s spending the inheritance, Rose. Everything that’s supposed to come to you and me— do you know how he is with money?”
There was a pause, and then, “You have my attention.”
Inside of a week, Rose was on a flight to Peru with a long layover in the States.
“Why Peru?” she asked, dropping her suitcase inside Katherine’s front hall. “He always said he would go to some isolated village in Alaska. Or that place in England.”
“The question is, where in Peru has he landed?” Katherine answered, moving her sister’s backpack away from the door. “What have you got in here, gold?”
“Stuff we might need. You’re lucky I’m coming with you, we’ll be prepared for anything.”
“We’re not blazing trails. You know Peru is inhabited, right?”
“Don’t argue, we have to find out where we’re going.”
Katherine went to her computer. “I’ve been emailing him daily, I’ve searched every database I can think of and registered his information with the US Embassy. I can’t think of what else to do till we’re there.”
“Can’t you hack into his email account? Find out where he booked his flight?”
“Already did that. Dad didn’t fly.” She swiveled in her chair to give her sister a knowing look.
“Well he didn’t walk,” answered Rose. “Boat?”
“Fishing boat.”
“So much for Lima. He’s got how much money? And he goes by fishing boat?”
“At least he didn’t try to hike from California.”
“How certain are you he’s in Peru?”
“That’s the only thing I’m sure of. Look at this, he’s been in touch with someone he only refers to as ‘Captain.’ His boat arrived in a port town called Pisco last week. From there he must have made his way to Machu Picchu because that’s where he was when he called my work. But here, see this? He’s arranged to go on another boat, again from Pisco, in two days. He has to be making his way there now.”
“Or he’s already there,” answered Rose, “and he’s swapping war stories with the locals till his boat comes in.”
“He doesn’t speak any Spanish,” Katherine said. “How do you suppose he’s getting around?”
“Well, check your email first.”
Katherine signed onto her own account while Rose poured herself some coffee.
“We’re flying into Lima,” Katherine called. “I figure we can get wherever we need to from there.”
“And it will be faster than going by boat,” Rose muttered. “The place looks nice. Did Mom ever see it?”
“No. I moved in just before everything happened. Dad responded! ‘Dear Meg,’” she read, “‘don’t worry about me, your mother always wanted to see more places outside the United States. You’re right about the tickets, they were all one way. I’m adventuring, planning as I go. Although I do have to make a scheduled stop in a town called Pisco. What a place! It was devastated by an 8.0 earthquake and tsunami in 2007. The effects still linger and you can find families living in temporary housing to this day. I gave my teeth to an old man who looked like he needed them more than I do. I should have come here years ago, though it might have made your mother nervous. Once she got here, though, she’d have felt right at home. It’s a shame, I’m sure they could have used a nurse after that earthquake. She’d have fixed them right up. That’s all for now. Spotty internet, and still trying to figure out this new computer. It sure is small. Love, Dad.’”
The girls stared at the screen for a while in silence.
“Do you think it’s a mid-life crisis?” Katherine asked finally.
“Mid-life? He’s too old for that. Not his style, either.” Rose walked to the window and looked down on the busy street below. With a sigh, she turned to her sister. “I’m afraid it’s a kind of death wish.”
“Dad’s suicidal? No,” Katherine answered dismissively.
“Not suicidal. But he’s been depressed, to put it lightly.”
“Depressed people don’t take random trips to Peru.”
“People with a lot of regret do. Look, he’s doing what he feels he should have done while Mom was alive. But it’s all regret, every bit of it, and he’s got nothing to lose. So he’s reckless.”
“He’s still got two daughters. That’s a lot to lose.”
“You’re freakishly independent, I’m married and living overseas. He knows his daughters are fine without him. It’s not like we’ve been especially close. He has to know that, especially now.”
“I don’t know what Peru’s like for travelers right now. Do you suppose they like Americans?”
“As far as I know, it’s safe. But it doesn’t matter,” Rose said, shaking her head. “There’s no way he can last. He’s in no condition to be hiking through the jungle, he’s an American with a lot of money, somebody’s going to target him.”
“He’s a toothless man who travels by fishing boat,” countered Katherine. “I think thieves are the least of our worries.”
Rose considered that. “Okay, I guess left to himself, dad does look homeless. Thank God, it’s in his favor this time.”
Pisco was a three hour ride from the airport in Lima, which gave Rose plenty of time to re-organize her backpack.
“If you ever fall into a lake,” quipped Katherine, “you’ll sink straight to the bottom. How much does that thing weigh?”
“This one is for backpacking anywhere. If we get caught on a hillside during a storm, we’ll have shelter. Wilderness without food? We’ve got food supplies and a way to cook them. But this one,” she pulled a smaller backpack out of the larger one, “is for little trips. Weighs next to nothing. I’ll let you carry it, skinny.” And she tossed the little backpack to her sister. Katherine thought it was still quite heavy.
“Okay, according to his email,” Katherine said, “he should already be in Pisco. The question is whether we’ll get there in time to find him. His boat could very well have left this morning. I just hope he’s okay.” Looking through the little backpack, she added, “What a reckless thing to do.”
Rose pulled her sister’s chin toward her with an iron grip that made her cry out and squirm away from her.
“Sorry,” said Rose, “sometimes I don’t know my own strength. Look,” she produced a small rubber ball, “you squeeze this throughout the day, when you’re reading or watching a movie or whatever. It strengthens these muscles.” She pointed to her perfectly carved lower arm. “You need build some muscle. What if we have to hike after dad? Or fight off pirates?”
“Pirates?” Katherine asked. “I hadn’t considered that. But he’ll be on a boat, that’s true–“
“Kate!” Rose continued, “I was joking. You’re way too stressed. Dad’s going to be fine. He has traveled some, granted that was decades ago, but he’s not an idiot either. You, however, you worry me. When did you get to be so gloomy?”
“I shouldn’t worry you, I’m easily the most stable person in this family.”
“No you’re not.”
“I stay in one place and do what I’m supposed to.”
“You’re the emotional one. And you didn’t even cry at the funeral. I’m afraid something’s cracked in that head of yours.”
“It’s different for emotional people,” Rose sighed, shrugging. “We cry when it’s not important, we cheer when it’s not too exciting. Silence means it’s real. So I was silent.”
“I think you’re full of crap. And what about your life, this stability of yours? You live alone, you don’t dance anymore, you don’t travel–“
“Really? We’re having this conversation now? Finish your backpack, I think you forgot the china.”
“You would have been all for this a year ago.”
“I had to grow up, Rose.”
“I don’t know if that’s true.”
“Are you people never pleased? First you worry because I’m not dancing, then when I am, now when I’ve got a real job.”
“You need some balance in there. It’s always all or nothing with you and I think that’s what growing up is about, balancing that out.”
“Lighten up, Rose. I’m fine.”
“You are kind of alone, though.”
Katherine couldn’t argue with that, so she changed the subject. “I did a story on this family where the mom was clinically dead. They called it and everything, covered her with a white sheet. The husband was stunned, her kids were confused. Her daughter was really young, didn’t quite get it. She pulled the sheet down. That’s when her mother sat up, looked around– she was fine. Pulled a Lazarus right there at County.”
“And you didn’t cry writing that story?”
“No.” Katherine gave her sister look. “She wasn’t my mother.”
“So you offered that silence of yours to a total stranger. Wow. County’s not even you beat. Why were you there?”
Katherine stared out the window and didn’t answer. “Mom would have loved this,” she said, gazing at the vast beauty of Peru.
The bus pulled into Pisco late in the afternoon and Katherine looked out in bewilderment. Her dad’s email didn’t do the place justice. The rubble of ruined buildings was still everywhere to be seen while ramshackle tents rested in their shadows.
“I couldn’t spend the night in a tent like that,” she whispered. “These people have been living like this for four years.”
“You should think about writing a story about it,” suggested Rose, hoisting her backpack. “I imagine whatever publicity it had, faded quickly. Where to from here?”
“We don’t know the boat he’s sailing on,” Katherine answered. “I don’t think people normally catch a ride on a fishing boat.”
“He probably met the captain while he was hitchhiking across Peru. That’s how it works for Dad– the guy probably offered him his boat and Dad settled for a ride somewhere. But where?”
“There has to be a port, you don’t just pull your ship in to town and dock it anywhere.”
Katherine approached a taxi and tried out her rusty Spanish. She simplified her question, asking where boats were because she was looking for fish. At least, she asked this in theory, but the man only laughed. He repeated what she had said to the men with him and they threw their heads back and laughed, too, long and loud.
“Rose?”
Katherine turned to discover her sister was laughing as well. When she caught Katherine’s horrified look and bright red face, she tried to stop, unsuccessfully for the most part but enough to speak with the driver and discover there was one main dock in Pisco. They settled on a price and the girls climbed into the taxi. The men gathered around the cab stand winked at Katherine, tipped their hats and whistled, calling after her as they pulled away from the curb.
“So, for future reference, fish is pescado. You told them you were looking for sin.” Here Rose broke into a fit of laughter again. “I’m sure they’d have had no problem finding it for you. No harm, though, they were entertained. I imagine you made their day, but I’ve never seen you turn so red.”
The cab dropped them at a short dock, to which a handful of small, ramshackle boats were tied. They approached a man sitting at the end of the pier, fishing. He looked like he must be five hundred years old, and had reached that age waiting for the fish to bite. Katherine let Rose handle the conversation this time.
“Hola, señor,” she said as she approached.
“Hello!” he answered. “You are Americans, yes?” And he stood to offer Rose his hand.
“Are we that obvious?” asked Rose, shaking.
“You live here long enough, you know an American accent, no matter how subtle. Your accent is very good, though. Where did you learn Spanish?”
“I picked it up where I could. I had a lot of Latino friends.”
“And you?” the man turned his attention on Katherine. “How’s your Spanish?”
“Apparently worse than I thought,” she answered. “I didn’t think many Peruvians spoke English.”
“Ah, not many do,” he said. “But I am not Peruvian. Not by birth anyhow. Though I do argue that my blood is Spanish. I’ve been here for 60 years.”
“Have you caught a fish in that time?” asked Rose.
The man laughed loudly, revealing a row of bright white teeth. “It feels that way, yes.”
“We’re looking for someone,” Rose said. “If he came through here, you’d have noticed him: a large American guy who can’t speak Spanish?”
“No teeth?”
“Unfortunately.”
“No, no, we are very grateful to him. The old man he gave them to is 102 this year and spends his days frightening children. And many adults. He is far less terrifying with teeth.”
“So Dad was helpful,” said Rose.
“Yes. The old man invited him to lunch and from there he got on a boat with Captain Montez.”
“Do you know where they were going?”
“To an island, one of the Chincha Islands.”
“Do you know which one?”
“I don’t, but the captain of that boat should be back soon. The islands aren’t far.”
“What time can we expect him?” asked Katherine.
“Sometime tonight. He could decide to stay on the island, though.”
“Is there any way we could get on a boat and follow them?”
The man laughed. “No, it’s too late to be starting. This is Peru! Enjoy it!”
“I’m just worried,” said Katherine. “He’s a widow now, and we’re not sure what his end game is.”
The man nodded. “Go, have some dinner, meet me back here in an hour. If I can find someone to take you, I’ll bring him here then. But don’t worry. He would not end his life in Peru. There is too much to see, and nobody wants to die in suspense.”
The girls thanked the man and left, had dinner in a small restaurant and headed back to the dock as scheduled. They waited over an hour for the man to return, realizing they had never learned his name. When he finally approached, he had disappointing news.
“The captain has not returned tonight, and nobody sails this evening.”
“What?” Katherine cried. “We have to get out there, we have to find our father.”
“You’ll find him,” said the man. “The Chinchas are very small. Few boats even travel there and those that do, come here. Your father will not go anywhere, and the island is certain to stay in its place.”
The captain did not return for three days. A warning was issued for severe weather, dashing all hope of finding someone willing to make the trip. During this time, Rose enjoyed exploring the town and tried to distract Katherine, who would not rest, even after exhausting every possible way to get to the islands. Not only were no boats available, it was impossible to charter a flight, bribe a sailor or build a raft. They checked in with the man at the docks, whose name was Lewis, three times a day. Not only did he have no news whatever, he couldn’t catch a fish. He blamed Katherine for scaring them off with worry.
” Katherine,” Rose said on the third day at a very gloomy breakfast, “consider this: Your worst fear is that Dad is going to kill himself, right? Will that change because you’re sitting here worrying about it?”
“How can you be so callous?” Katherine snapped. “Don’t you care? Concern for people makes you worry, that’s just how it goes.”
“No, worry just means you’re pissed that you can’t control people. I care about Dad just as much as you do, but you can not control this. We’ve done all we can do, now try to let it go.”
“How can you be so calm?”
“First, I really don’t think Dad’s in any danger. We’ll probably find him napping on the beach. Second, worrying doesn’t actually do anything. Dad’s going to do whatever he’s going to do, regardless of how stressed you get. There is a God, Katherine, and we’re not Him.”
That night, Katherine tried to write a travel piece about Peru, but it turned into a macabre story about a man who went to the most beautiful place in the world in order to hurl himself off a bridge.
At last, the warning was lifted and the captain returned to Pisco. Katherine instantly introduced herself and asked when they could return to the island.
“This is Captain Rodrigo Montez,” Lewis interjected. “He does not speak English.”
Katherine repeated herself in Spanish and the captain tipped his hat, but refused to return to the island that day and walked away.
“Tell him our dad is out there,” Katherine insisted.
“I told him,” answered Lewis, “but his boat needs repairs. Keep relaxing, the island is still there, and will be there when the captain is ready to go.”
After three more days, even Rose was anxious.
“It’s about time you got a little bit miffed,” said Katherine, folding up her laptop. “But I have a plan.”
She asked around and found the captain’s house easily enough. When she knocked at the door, a plump, older woman welcomed her in and offered her coffee. The captain and his wife, Rosa, were more than willing to be interviewed for her newspaper, talking openly about the devastation of the earthquake. Katherine asked in Spanish how long it had been before he could return to fishing.
“I was lucky,” he said. “My boat could be repaired in several months. Many others lost everything.”
Katherine paused as she wrote that in her notebook. “And who was available to repair your boat? Did you have to do the work yourself?”
“I did what I could. Lewis helped me.”
“Who maintains your boat now?”
“There is Miguel, near the docks. But his business has not recovered, even now. It’s hard for everyone.”
Katherine watched Rosa gently squeeze the captain’s hand, then add, “Our son was an apprentice there. He was injured in the earthquake. A–” here she stopped, catching her breath– “a boat was in dry dock and fell on him. He lived for a day, a miracle in itself. But in the morning, he went to be with Jesus.”
“Does it anger you to see the world move on?” asked Katherine.
“We can’t control what the world does, who remembers,” answered the captain. “But we can control our response.”
“I know you see only tragedy,” said Rosa. “But we have been given so much, that even when we lost our son we had plenty to be grateful for. The rest of our children are healthy, my husband and I were unhurt. And for Josue, we had a whole night to say goodbye. That was a rare gift, many friends were not as fortunate.”
“The Lord gives, The Lord takes,” said the captain. “We bless Him in both places.”
Katherine relayed what she had learned to her sister. When she had finished, Rose stood and dusted off her hands. “We find the shipbuilder, we fix the boat.”
“I’m not going to rush the captain, though.”
“Who said rushing? I just say we fix this guy’s boat. He still decides when he wants to head out.”
They found Miguel near the docks, but at the mention of the captain’s name, he refused to do any work.
“He owes me too much already,” he said. “For the sake of their son, I have done what I can, but I can not afford to give any more credit.”
“Tell us what he owes,” Rose said, “and if you will agree to repair the boat, we’ll pay all of it.”
Miguel did more than repair the boat, he practically rebuilt it and topped his work off with a coat of paint. By the time the captain wandered down to see about what repairs he could do himself, he barely recognized his own vessel. He didn’t say anything to Katherine and Rose, but looked at them in silence for a long moment before offering to go to the island immediately.
“Tomorrow morning,” Rose said, looking at her sister.
“If it suits you,” Katherine answered slowly, then added, “Dad’s not going anywhere.”
They were underway with the sunrise and on one of the smaller islands in less than an hour. Walking onto the beach, they discovered their dad, fast asleep in the sand. They sat next to him, one on either side, and talked with the captain until he woke up. When he did open his eyes, he jumped at the sight of his daughters and hugged them both tightly.
The whole party went in search of breakfast and Dad was soon familiar with all the details of their trip.
“You gave us quite a scare,” Katherine told him.
“I don’t know why. I’m fine.”
“Apparently, but Dad, you can’t just be completely reckless now.”
“Who said anything about reckless? I may not have an itinerary, but I have a plan. Those can be exclusive, you know.”
“Katherine’s nervous about how you’re affording all this, Dad,” Rose added.
“No, honestly,” Katherine said before her dad could respond, “I’ve been far more worried about you being safe than about the money.”
“When have you had to worry about me?” asked their dad.
“Well,” said Rose, putting her hand up, “in Katie’s defense, there was that time you jumped onto a fishing boat and sailed to Peru.”
Their father shook his head. “You’re mother got the idea she’d like to go to Europe, and you know how she gets when she has a goal in mind. She saved up for years, but I wasn’t that excited about the idea, and she died before we could go. I’ll regret that till the day I die. The memories I could have of me and your mother in Paris, in Rome, in Cornwall.”
“Cornwall!” Rose cried. “I couldn’t remember the name.”
“It’s your regret that scared us,” Katherine told her dad.
“Yes,” he said slowly, scratching his beard. “I supposed I understand that.”
“You’ve been pretty low, Dad,” Katherine explained. “I get a call you’re in Peru and not to worry– of course I’m going to worry.”
“It would scare me, too, I suppose,” he answered, “if the tables were turned. But how much did you accomplish from worrying? Besides, I haven’t gone crazy.”
“You do understand how strange that sounds,” asked Katherine, “coming from a shirtless, toothless, fairly chubby, older man with broken glasses and no shoes who sleeps on the beach?”
“Older?” repeated her dad, taken aback.
“You can’t really argue that one,” said Rose dismissively, “but hold on. If Mom wanted to see Europe, why did you come to Peru?”
“I’d seen Europe in the service,” he said. “I still wasn’t excited about going back. Anyway, I didn’t think she’d mind if I fudged the plan a little bit.”
“So that’s it?” asked Katherine. “You never had any slightly crazy ideas? Like buying this island?”
“I asked around, but it’s not for sale. Relax, Katie, it’s a joke. Besides,” he added quietly, “it’s not quite the same without your mother. You know she’s really the one responsible for how you two turned out. You’re independent and on your own.” He let a sad smile come to his lips. “It’s ironic how that works. Your mother used to worry so much about you girls. She had to learn to stop trying to control you. It’s not like we could anyway. I always tried to tell her that feeling like she was in control didn’t mean she actually was.”
“See Katherine?” Rose asked. “I won’t say I told you so, but I totally did.”
“And now my girls have to learn that about their dad.”
“Not to mention the rest of their lives,” said Rose, raising an eyebrow at her sister.
Rose asked the captain what he thought about the matter and they had a short discussion in Spanish.
“He says,” Rose told her dad in English, “that at sea, you can fight, but the storm carries you where it wants. The best you can do is have your anchor in the right place.”
The girls spent the week with their dad, then parted ways at the airport in Lima. The girls had were headed back to the US; their dad was headed to Chile.
Waiting in the terminal, Rose asked her sister, “Do you feel like you’ve accomplished something?”
“Well, let’s review,” answered Katherine, leaning back in her chair. “Dad’s still in South America, and he could still blow our inheritance. That still worries me, but… You know, I’ve never seen worry as a substitute for control. That really bothers me. I’ve never been controlling, have I?”
“I wouldn’t use the word ‘controlling,’but you do tend to freak out. Even with small stuff. Like dancing– you had some doubts, so you dropped it completely.”
“Well, to be fair, you had doubts. I was content to be penniless for art’s sake. No, this isn’t going to be the story about how I went to Peru, started dancing again, and suddenly it all worked out.”
“But you can’t do anything solely because it’ll all work out. It might not. Even the most certain things fall through. Like you said, Dad’s still in South America. The inheritance is still in limbo.”
“And Mom is still gone,” Katherine said. She let out a long, deep breath. “Bad things still happen, regardless of what you do.”
“So consider that you may only have so much time to enjoy the present. And instead of being afraid of what’s coming, you could enjoy now and deal with the bad stuff when its time.”
“Guess I’d better find my anchor,” answered Katherine, “and then let the waves crash as they may.” She checked her watch. “Come on, it’s time to board.”