Nowhere to Run
A Snapdragon Story
5:38 AM.
Gulls.
Crashing waves in the distance.
Palm trees swishing in the breeze outside my window while I stared at a random ceiling in yet another random seaside hotel room.
Boredom can look an awful lot like paradise.
The life of a semi-famous detective can lead you away from home to help other islands augment and “upskill” their staff. I’m on just such an island, wrapping up yet another training program… my life now full of giving presentations, fielding questions, and drinking coffee.
I really hate PowerPoint.
At least my life has calmed down. Foxton is cleaned up. The villagers are all healthy, happy, and safe. Even Tom Nook has walked the straight and narrow, lifting Foxton up onto a million different blogs spouting rubbish like “10 Best Islands to Visit 2024. #4, Foxton.”
“
You must visit Foxton’s pristine beaches and beautiful tulip fields…!”
Boredom can also look a lot like hell.
Rubbing the last bit of sleep from my face, I placed both feet on the floor next to the hotel bed. Ready to face another day.
A day that just happened to be my birthday. Like I cared. Or anyone else cared, for that matter.
“
Ding!”
Grabbing my phone from the bedside table and lifting the screen to my still sleepy eyes, the words on the screen brightened my day. Finally, something to sink my teeth into.
It was Tom Nook. I was going home.
Time to call the DAL ticket service line.
1:21 PM.
Age.
It’s literally just a number.
Who decided, ages ago, that just because the earth traveled one full revolution around the sun, we were magically another full digit older?
“
Congratulations! You can now go to school. Get a job. Drive. Vote. Drink. Become mayor. Senator. President. Retire. Draw down your pension. Social security.”
What was so different about me 24 hours ago? Do the cells dividing in my body know this?
I pondered this while the seaplane landed down gently on the waves next to the beaches of Foxton.
My home.
I grabbed my bag from the overhead and walked through the gates of the airport, the familiar sounds and smells of Foxton giving me a slight spiritual boost. Stepping outside into the sun, I saw Blathers waving urgently from the boardwalk.
“Jack, welcome back! I’m so glad to see you! And I believe also Happy Bir-”
I cut him off. “Good to see you too, Blathers. Tom texted me early this morning. Sorry to cut to the chase here, but what’s the issue with the Vermeer?”
He vigorously shook his head so hard I was afraid he was going to lose some feathers. “Deary me, the Wistful Painting is gone! I noticed it this morning while I walked towards Brewster’s to grab my morning café latte. It was definitely there last night, so it had to have been taken sometime between 10pm and 5:30am!”
Having a precise timeline was a good start. “Any chance of a reasonable explanation? Restoration, maintenance?”
Blathers shook his head again. “Absolutely not. I control the schedule for those kinds of things, and it’s in perfect shape! It’s just gone… someone took it!”
Looking at the state of him, I was afraid there were going to be tears. I did the only thing I could think of.
I patted his back.
“I’ll get to the bottom of this, Blathers. Let me drop my bag off at home and then stop by island services to talk to Tom and Isabelle, find out any details of on any recent events on the island. Then I’ll stop by the museum sometime a bit later for some additional questions if that’s okay?”
He nodded vigorously. “Yes, yes! I’ll be waiting for you. I’ll be there all day!”
Nodding my head, I turned towards the middle of the island. Started walking. Thinking. An obvious theft like this is asking for attention. And a fast escape.
There was no chance of this going unnoticed for very long. The thief had to know this. Which means the thief had to have a way off quickly.
Could a visitor have taken it? Just in time to catch a flight or boat back home…?
3:34 PM.
Standing in line.
A snail’s pace.
It was like Tom and Isabelle were purposely taking their time.
Every villager picked today to be in island services, picking up packages, making loan payments. I was in the back. Considering the topic of my own query, I was reluctant to skip the line and cause a stir. So I waited. And waited. Until I was finally the only one left.
Tom brightened when he looked up. “Jack, you made it home! I wish it was under better circumstances, but it’s still so good to have you here for your birth-“
I cut off the nonsense. “I’ve started checking into the issue you texted me about, Tom. Caught Blathers outside the airport about the missing Vermeer. Do you have a list of all the visitors on the island?”
He shook his head sadly. “That’s the thing Jack, with the season winding down we’ve shut the hotel for maintenance. We have so many vacationers now that we need a good couple of weeks to get set up for the holiday crowds. Even the boat service is shut down for the rest of the month.”
The implication struck me immediately. “Wait, we have no visitors at all right now?”
He looked me in the eye sadly. “No, no one.”
My heart sank.
This was bad news. The thief was someone on the island.
Likely someone I knew very well.
4:57 PM.
Someone I knew.
There had to be another explanation.
After a very late lunch and a walk to think about possibilities, I stopped by the museum to talk to Blathers. I caught him in the foyer, looking agitated and nervous. He looked up when he saw me.
“Jack! Any news?”
I shook my head. “Nothing yet. I stopped by island services to talk to Tom. Didn’t realize we are shut down to visitors right now. Can you think of anything unusual over the last week or so? Anyone lingering by where the painting was? Any villagers?”
Blathers shook his head. “No, nothing. It’s been completely normal here, except for the quietness due to the end of the vacation season. Well, wait. There is something…”
Blathers suddenly looked terrified. Something about his eyes. “Except what?”
I heard the door to the museum open.
A voice spoke behind me.
“Except I took it.”
I spun around in time to see Tom Nook dashing back through the museum's front door.
5:01 PM.
It made absolutely no sense. Why was he running? Why would he take it? He was the one that texted me in the first place!
And he was fast.
But I’m still faster. Seeing him head for the island square, his options were about to be limited.
He had nowhere to run now.
I was gaining on him when he rounded the front corner of the island services building. I surged after him with another burst of speed. “Stop, Tom! You have nowhere to ruuuuuuuun?……”
The words died on my lips as I screeched to a halt in the middle of the island square. The scene in front of me was flabbergasting. Tables set up with treats, cookies, cake. Chips. Drinks. Balloons.
A “Happy Birthday” banner in obnoxious colors.
And all of the villagers looking my direction with genuine happiness to see me, drinks and paper plates in hand.
And in the middle was a slightly out of breath Tom Nook. And Blathers right next to him. Tom just gave me a genuine smile and said “Happy Birthday, Jack. Apologies for the subterfuge to get you back here, and getting you to run after me. It was the only way I could figure out how to get you here on time. You always need a mystery to solve, Jack. Luckily, the only mystery here is the flavor of the cake Audie made for you.”
Blathers just laughed heartily. “I haven’t had to fly that fast to beat you here in a loooooooong time. You’ll be happy to know that I took down the Wistful Painting before you got back to the island, and it will be put right back up before I go to bed. Which reminds me, flying so fast and staying awake all day is making me sleepy…”
One by one, all of the villagers wished me happy birthday. Shook my hand. Hugged me. Tom hugged me last. “Thank you for all that you do for the island, Jack, and all the other islands on this great big ocean.”
As it dawned on me that maybe Foxton really is a great island worthy of those blog lists, the words of Louis Armstrong’s most famous song came to me.
What a wonderful world.
But the world is not wonderful… not even close. It can be ugly.
Mean.
Stomp you when you’re down.
But there can also be empathy.
Kindness.
It can give you friends that lend you a hand to get right back up again. Friends that will give you a surprise birthday party, knowing that a measure of trickery would be needed just to get you to show up.
A wonderful world? No.
But it can be… okay. Especially at a surprise birthday party.
If you open your heart.
Your entry meets the prompt.
