The Time Share

We drove up the snowy, winding road towards the cozy A-frame cabin. Gerald was waiting for us outside, a steaming cup of coffee held between his hands. As we parked, he stepped forward. I expected him to offer to help unpack, but instead he took a swig of his drink and said:

"Come with me.”

“Why?”

“I can’t explain it. You just need to come with me.”

“No, I'll see it later. We just got here.”

“No, it will be gone by then. You have to see it now.”

“Don’t play the pronoun game with me. I hate that. What do you need me to see?”

“Just come with me, now.”

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I looked upwards at the massive object, her eyes still bleary and filled with gunk from sleeping. She pulled her coat tight and tugged at her gloves. Beside me, Gerald stared as well, glancing every now and then at my face, hoping to witness a preconceived reaction.

“You could have described this to me,” I said, with distinct disdain in my voice.

“I really don't think I could’ve done it justice.”

“Ger, it’s an iceberg with a giant shark jumping to catch a metal disk. It’s self explanatory.”

“Megalodon.”

“I don’t care what the disk is.”

“No, the shark.”

“I still don't care. Where’s coffee?”

Gerald pointed to the back of the deck where a steaming pot of brew was steaming, with several nearby cups ready to be filled. The rest of the group was also outside of the cabin, eyes upward at the leaping fish and frisbee. I made my way through the crowd toward the brew that was sending gentle streams of heat into the winter air. I took one of the cups and began to pour, pausing near the top, debating whether to add cream or sugar.

“Where did it come from?” Kelly, who had been in the car with me, asked.

“I think Hank went out last night to do some ice fishing,” Don, who had arrived the night before with the rest of the group, responded in almost a whisper. “Maybe he, I dunno, set it loose?”

“Did he get back? Did anyone see him come back?”

There was silence, which I interpreted to mean that the answer was negative. I took a long sip from her cup, letting the warmth fill my chest the way only a hot cup of joe could.

“Where do you think it came from?”

“We just answered that, Don. We don’t know,” Kelly said.

“No, I mean, we are at a lake. That there is a giant shark. Last I checked, sharks don’t get up this far inland, least of all sharks like that.”

“I didn’t realize you were an itchy...itchimatho…”

“Ichthyologist?”

“That’s the one.”

“I’m not.”

“Didn’t think so.”

“So what, Kell? I watched Shark Week. I know some stuff.”

“Everyone watched Shark Week,” Lily joined in. “Doesn't make you an expert.”

“I wasn’t saying I was. I just know that sharks like that don’t make their way up into Alaska.”

“Aren’t sharks cold blooded?” Gerald asked.

“Yeah, but I don't think that's what it means,” Kelly clarified.

“Then what does it mean?”

“It’s like...their blood is like...similar to the air? Or the sun?”

“Very helpful.”

“I think they go into some sort of fugue state when they get cold and move more when they are in the heat. Shoot, there was a Magic School Bus episode on this,” Don said, slightly exasperated.

“Yet another insight brought to you by Don’s TV habits,” Kelly chuckled.

I took another sip then set the coffee down, next to the pot, still warm despite January's deep chill. I could see the group all gathered in the cabin window’s reflection, along with a distorted iceberg with the great beast trapped within. I shook my head and went inside while the others debated the possible methods that might have brought this living fossil into the lake next to their stupid timeshare Gerald had insisted we get, and began looking for something to help me see more clearly.

“Where the hell would you put them, Ger? You called us to say you used them to look at moose yesterday, then where did you leave them?” I grumbled to no one in particular, lifting pillows and cushions, all of which reminded me of a L.L Bean catalogue.

“It’ll pay for itself,” the sales guy had said. “Get a bunch of friends in on it, and you can make it yours for one week of luxury, and you can split the cost.”

It had taken exactly five minutes of that crap to convince him to pitch it to the rest of us. It had taken just 10 more minutes to get the others on board, and yet another minute for me, Jessica the holdout, to give up my reservations. There wasn’t a point to arguing once the group got excited, and this was a beautiful opportunity to spend time with everyone. We would never be able to afford that friendship mansion we had planned on getting anyway so this was a healthy compromise.

To me though, it felt a little like giving up on our dreams. A compromise of ideals.

I decided to not focus on the timeshare experience while I searched, before returning outside and grabbing my coffee which had noticeably cooled in my short venture into the cabin, binoculars now around my neck. I passed my friends and stood next to Gerald, who hadn't stopped looking at the giant pillar of ice, as if it would just disappear like a green floating stone they had all read about recently. I nudged him gently, before taking another sip, trying to get any warmth from the drink before it too froze over.

“What do you think?” Gerald asked.

“I think I asked we take the timeshare option in Orlando,” I said, setting the mug on the ground, wedging it into a small snow pile, then pulling out the binoculars I had fetched in the cabin under what I hoped had been clean underwear.

“You don’t think it’s amazing? This is something out of those sci-fi stories you always read, and you are upset about the location?”

It was a beautiful and amazing sight, but I was feeling passive aggressive, so I decided to not respond to his questions while she adjusted the lenses.

“There is no way that thing is still alive,” I muttered as the fin came into focus, the moonlight shining brilliantly off both the ice and the scales.

“Cold blooded?” Gerald offered.

“Doesn’t matter,” I said. “This much ice would have taken a long time to form, no matter where it originated.”

“So now you’re an itchy-methodist?” Kelly asked.

“Actually, ichthyologists study all sorts of fish. Someone who studies sharks is a shark biologist. Lame name but it is what it is,” I said matter-of-factly as I deftly moved the binoculars higher towards the beast’s jaws and massive teeth.

There was a moment of silence as Kelly took that in.

“So...”

“I’m not one, but I am a science teacher, and like Don, I watched shark week and the Magic School Bus.” I let the lenses take me higher toward the disk. There was something odd about it, but it was difficult to make out what it was with the ice distorting everything.

The silence overtook my friends, only occasionally broken by one of the members cursing under their breath in awe.

“See anything?” Gerald asked softly.

“I think there is a light coming from that saucer,” I whispered. “It’s faint, but...yes, it is there. A yellow light coming from the bottom.”

“So it’s a saucer now?”

“What, you thought it was a frisbee the shark was trying to catch?”

“Well no,” Gerald admitted. “Saucer makes sense. Can I take a look?”

“Give me a sec,” I muttered, resisting the urge to swat at him.

“No rush,” he said, holding his hands to his mouth and breathing into them deeply.

The lights were definitely on and seemed to be almost sputtering. Like a car battery dying. I watched it for a solid minute as it went on and off with no discernable pattern.

“Thing must be as old as an ice age,” Lily said, breaking the group’s focus.

“There were multiple?” Kelly asked.

“Depends on how old the planet is, but sure, I’ll stand by what I said.”

“That might explain how it got here. Wasn’t the earth covered in water at one point?” Gerald postulated.

“There is a story about it in the Bible. If you believe that sort of thing. No offence Don,” Lily said apologetically.

“Why would I be offended?”

“I mean I wasn’t trying to say you're wrong for churchgoing. I just meant that I don't believe the flood story. Or most of those stories.”

“Actually, the biblical story of the flood was likely not an isolated case,” I retorted, scouring the top of the ice mass now. “Most cultures have a story about the gods getting angry and flooding the earth. China, Ancient Mesopotamia, Greece, even the Aztecs. Likely there was some sort of major flood event way back when and all the stories are just different perspectives. Might make a decent explanation as to how this thing was under the lake.”

They all took the words in and silently agreed that this made sense.

“Except, those stories are thousands of years old,” Gerald whispered. “And this lake isn’t always frozen, not all year at least. Wouldn’t this have risen before now? Or melted?”

“I don’t know, I just wanted them to go back to being quiet while I look for...there!” I felt a rush as I finally found who I was looking for. “Hank is alive. He’s on the top of this thing!”

The rest of the group breathed a sigh of relief, especially Kelly.

“He musta been right over it,” Kelly said to himself, “when it came up.”

“That checks out,” Don agreed. “Now how do we get to him?”

“We could call a ranger,” Lily suggested. “They have to have rescue choppers.”

“Better get on it quick,” I said, bringing the binoculars to my face again, watching a very cold and very scared Hank holding desperately onto an icepick wedged into the burg. I moved my eyes slowly down the berg back to the saucer. There was something that still seemed off.

“I got the ranger on the sat phone,” Don said. “They are sending a chopper our way. Mentioned we need to stay put.”

“Government on their way?” Gerald joked nervously.

“He didn’t say that, but I would not be surprised.”

I squinted into the lenses, certain I had seen something else other than the sputtering, dying engine. Something that should not have been possible. Then, there it was. A shadow that I had not been sure of but now was clear: a figure in the top section of the saucer.

Someone was in it. Moving.

And the engine wasn’t sputtering like a dying battery. It was much more like an engine turning over, getting ready to ignite.

“No!” I anticipated it a moment before it happened. The light below the disk erupted, sending cracks through the entire structure and a sound not unlike a gunshot. Then, the metal circle blasted into the sky, sending a red streak behind it as it disappeared from view.

Gerald, who had grabbed the binoculars before I had dropped them, frantically looked toward the still massive ice block, in search of our friend. Hank had been directly over the saucer when it lifted off, and now there was nothing but a crater in the ice. for a moments that felt like an eternity, we waited for him to say something.

“He’s there!” he cheered. “He landed in a safe spot!” Gerald handed the binoculars back to me and I aimeeld toward where he had been pointing. Sure enough, Hank had landed in the crater, appearing dazed and holding his left arm like it hurt something fierce. But he did seem to be alive, sitting up in the divot of ice, directly above the shark’s maw.

The rest of the group cheered as they celebrated their experience and the sound of the chopper came over the horizon.

But I stood frozen, like the pond in which the pillar of ice stood, gripping the sides of the binoculars, as I watched the eyes of the shark shift ever so slightly toward the man in its mouth, and new, fresh cracks began to form around its jaws.

“I could be at Disney World right now,” I sighed.