The Missing Bride – a mystery by Alysse Aallyn

Chapter 18 – Dream Island

Isla Ensueno is a resort –

Luckily Derek’s air miles included the

Pink stucco hotel.

“No one by that name,” the desk clerk told me so 

Patiently. What kind of avatar name would 

Mirabel choose?  He wouldn’t stand for

Guessing so I tried describing her –

But the clerk shook his head.

Well, I couldn’t leave until tomorrow

Might as well check in and prowl.

It’s a very small island.

My thoughts were uncomfortable –

That oh-so familiar feeling –

Dinned into me by every adult I’ve ever met

That I’m probably doing

 Everything wrong.

My “great idea” seemed feeble now

Typical teen impulsiveness.

This wasn’t far enough away – Florida!

How could Mirabel feel safe here?

Smart money said she’d flee

Ocean-wards – the Maldives or Malta or 

Some such place – with a whole new

Passport and some new man in tow

Whose identity she could hide behind.

That’s if she wanted to create

A new persona. But what if –

This is what I gambled on –

She wanted instead to uncover 

The old persona – the person

Who had always been there?

It was the only explanation

For involving me –

Other than simply feeding me

To her monster.

I had one single chance –

And possibly I’d blown it.

Dream Island was authentically gorgeous –

 Mirabel hadn’t lied 

 But in the eight years since

Her photo shoot hadn’t its splendor 

Diminished, wasn’t it becoming

Just the tiniest bit shabby? 

Some people – myself for example

Like things whose edge has been

Taken off.  As I circumnavigated 

The island’s walking trail 

A certain peace overtook me

That could have been

Maturity.

Was this what it felt like

Having nothing left to prove?

If you can enjoy the moment –

Filling yourself with it and

It with yourself –

Then you’ve arrived.

Questions bubbled. 

What do you do

When your game has gone horribly wrong?

You start over.

Even if my guess was off

There was still that intriguing 

Probability: what if Mirabel evolved

Until her only desire was having a self

Worthy of presentation to the magnificent

Universe this island represented?

Even at fourteen I understood nostalgia –

Viewing the confident know-it-all 

My eleven-year-old incarnation 

With the purest envy.

What if Mirabel re-set the game – 

Made different choices

Stopped pleasing others by

Contorting her body into

Simulacra and challenged the world

To accept her real being?

The younger self I knew – hopeful – 

Gorgeous – naïve, impatient –

Wasn’t in the Maldives!

As I walked I systematically

Searched every nook;

Old trees shading the privacy of

Lovers: I broke into – peering under

Awnings, stared right through

Sunglasses: but Mirabel 

Wasn’t there.

The trail wound around a sand beach cove 

And right up to the lighthouse; 

I was unprepared; requiring

 Binoculars, sunscreen and a

Really big hat;

Sea breezes made me shiver

In just cami and jeans – 

Something put me 

In the mood to climb the lighthouse.

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