Violet Evergarden Baugainvillea is now a grandmother to twins Brentford and Hyacinth Baugainvillea. Although both are educated on the mainland, 18 year-old Hya returns to her beloved Ecarte Island for good to assist her grandmother in an expanding m...
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"A thought occurred to me, Hyacinth," said my grandmother as she busied herself wrapping cold meat pasties to pack in our knapsacks. "And perhaps, you have already seen to it, but how much extra cargo can Swallow hold?" "I've carried as much as 25 kilos of mail and parcels." "Yes, but you were alone." She turned to consider Mr. Stephanotis's weight, "You are somewhere between 70 and 80 kilos, I'd expect, Leon. How much are you expecting to fly back?" "To be honest, I've no real idea. Depending. If there is quite a haul, then another trip may have to be in order. This is more of a scouting expedition." Grandmother Violet nodded. "I see." She buckled closed the knapsacks filled with ample foodstuffs and attached the sizable canteens of fresh water. Grandfather Gilbert appeared just then in the threshold of the kitchen, his height just almost besting the threshold beam above. My twin brother took after him in height and most everything else. They only really differed in the fact that Bren had yet to go grey and wore no eyepatch over his right eye, as Grandfather had since the long ago war. Grandmother Violet looked up at him and smiled radiantly, as always. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mr. Stephanotis looking away, and acting as if something had caught his attention out the window, his expression unreadable. Grandfather placed a hand on my shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. He was never a very talkative fellow, but his kind gestures spoke volumes. "I know you'll be of great service to Mr. Stephanotis." he said, never doubting my skill as a pilot. "I will radio in from Brannigan's Crest by. . ." I quickly consulted my leather banded wrist watch, "Eleven. Then, according to the map, our destination will be another hour, due north." I continued by giving them the exact coordinates on a map I had taken out the night before. It was true that getting to Seager Island would have been wretchedly time consuming by boat given the rocky shorelines surrounding the entire land mass. Mr. Stephanotis made the far more efficient choice by flying. I had flown to Brannigan's Crest twice a week over the last two years, and just as all the others islands in my mail route, Swallow could get me there even in my sleep. After over 2 hours up in the air, we landed on a land strip made of smooth pounded clay. Mr. Stephanotis hopped down from the cockpit after me and removed his headgear. He took in a deep breath. "Would you like to know the truth, Miss Baugainvillea?" "The truth?" I asked in bewilderment, shaking the wind blown hair out of my face. "Yes. The truth is, I loathe flying." I stared at him. "Oh. . .and yet, here you are." He laughed. "Yes! And it was incredible!" "I had no idea! Why didn't you mention this yesterday?" Mr. Stephanotis shrugged sheepishly. "Your grandmother Violet's confidence in you made me just, well, lump it." "You hid your fear well, Mr. Stephanotis." He opened and closed his mouth and moved his jaw side to side. "I had my jaw clenched the whole time, until I got a bit more comfortable. Now it is sore." "I wondered, actually. You were awfully quiet this morning." "Was I?" he asked, a bit aloof. "Yes, I suppose so." He stayed quiet for a moment, then said, "Call me Leon. It's what Violet always called me." But I was not my grandmother and not in the habit of addressing non-familiar adults older than myself by their first name. I just nearly said so, but since he requested it, I merely nodded consent. "Then, by all means, please call me Hya." Leon grinned, and it was as if the more tense muscles of his face finally relaxed for the first since meeting him. With more softened features, I found Leon Stephanotis to be quite handsome in general, not for just an elderly man. If he only relaxed more often. "HYA!! Hey! HYA!" shouted a fair haired boy, trotting toward us from a far off radio tower. I waved to him. "Hullo! Tim!" "You landed Swallow perfect! Absolutely! Perfect!!" "The air strip is newly constructed." I explained. "Tim Halsell there helped his father construct it. He is extremely proud of it." Leon surveyed the rock laden, uneven land beyond the smooth strip. "How did you land before?" "In a way you would have not appreciated." I laughed, as the boy Tim arrived next to us. "Dad has already radioed Ecarte when he saw you hop down from the cockpit." Tim said, "Miss Violet replied. She knows you arrived safely." "Thank you, Tim. This is Mr. Stephanotis." Tim, small for his 12 years, looked up at Leon. Leon bowed first. "I heard you made this runway possible for Miss Hya." Tim nodded, "Yes, sir! After she just nearly damaged Swallow beyond repair, my dad and I got right to work!" Leon gawked at me. "Damaged beyond repair?" "Nearly beyond repair," I corrected, "She's a tough little bird." "And did you nearly damage yourself beyond repair?" he asked, as we walked toward the little house at the foot of the radio tower. Tim had promised coffee. "Nah," I answered dismissively, "Only a broken collarbone and left wrist. Nothing major." At this Leon merely shook his head. We gratefully took coffee, and studied yet another map Tim's father Rufus Halsell laid out for us. This map was of better detail than the one I had with me. Rufus pointed at the western end of the island. "There's probably the best area to land, and take off again nothing but sand there for a good three miles. Most anywhere else might mean troubles." Leon compared the coordinates with his own for the specific cave he needed to search. Fortunately they were very close. Much better than being on the opposite side of the island from your transport, for sure. Once Swallow's fuel tanks were completely full again, we made ready for departure. "Think you can stomach being up in the air again?" I asked, as we settled into our seats and buckled in. "The more I stomach it, the better I will be for it." Leon answered. I nodded in agreement and gave a thumb's up to Rufus Halsell ready to crank the engine by spinning the wooden propellor. "Ready for contact, Mr. Halsell!" I called.
