Part 252: Brewing Issues

The night had finally enclosed the beach area. The groups were huddled together in their individual cliques, talking and eating. John munched on the corn the outpost had. It was one of his favorite vegetables and he missed it severely. The archer then leaned up as he felt the wind blowing against him. He looked into the distance and noticed it was strong enough to nearly put out a torch that was on the beach. Mia then joined him, bringing her own plate of food. “It seem windy to you?” John asked.

“Just a little,” she said, enjoying the boar meat, “Why? You want to fly a kite?”

“Only if we have one.” He chuckled.

“Geez, John, you are consuming that corn like something fierce.” Mia noticed.

“Oh, sorry. I love corn. I grew up on this stuff.”

“Corn fed?” the Lakota girl smirked, “Well, when we get back to the real world, and we are living together, I will make sure you have all the corn you want.”

“You are too good to me,” he smirked.


On one side of the beach, Hal slowly sipped on his beer. Sawyer had horded most of them and the cop traded him a book for a beer. He smirked over the fact that the redneck seemed to have two things he enjoyed doing most; reading and drinking. Back in the normal world, he probably did more but on the Island, it was the only two past times he could come up with. Hal then felt a gentle hand touch his shoulder for support as Libby sat down next to him. “Hey,” she whispered.

“Hey,” he replied.

Libby opened up a jar of peanut butter, sticking it in her lap. Then she began unwrap a Hershey bar with ease. Hal smirked as he saw her dip it into the peanut butter and then munch it with delight. “I haven’t seen that technique since I was kid,” he mentioned.

“I guess the Liberation only allowed chocolate bars,” Libby giggled, “But I was craving a Reeses badly.”

“I love a woman who can improvise.” Hal sipped his beer.

“You do, huh?” the therapist blushed.

“How did a woman like you wind up here, Libby?”

“Just lucky I guess,” she said, munching her candy, “How about you?”

“How about me what?”

“Why was a San Fransico cop hanging around in Australia?”

Hal paused for a second and then drank his beer. “I was looking for someone.” He whispered.

Libby could hear the hesitation in his voice. “Hal, I’m sorry, It’s probably none of my business.” She said, licking the peanut butter off the candy bar.

“Well, you are a therapist, aren’t you? I kinda . . .want to talk about it. You . . .seem trustworthy.”

“I wouldn’t be a therapist if people didn’t trust me.” She said, “Come on, let’s take a walk.”

Hal stood up and followed Libby down to the water. He snatched up a torch to light their way. Dutch continued to whittle away at the piece of wood he had. The surfer looked up and smiled seeing his friend walking with Libby. Dutch sighed, immediately thinking they made a cute couple when he first saw them together.

Hal sipped his beer and when he was finished, tossed it into the sand. Libby held her hands together as she walked, waiting for him to start talking. “I was in Australia cause I was hunting a man.” He finally whispered.

“Hunting?” Libby was confused by the word.

“His name is James Embry. He was a low rent mob hitman. Until I came to close to him and his crew. He decided to pay me back . . .by murdering my son.”

“Oh, Hal,” she sighed, touching his arm.

“I have done my best to get over but no father could. He . . .was playing in the playground right in front of me. I heard the shot and ducked but by the time I realize what had happened, my son was gone.”

“You knew it was him?”

“The department had no proof but I knew. I knew. I started to go after him and his crew. Bringing them all down one by one. In the end, he knew I was coming for him and when he did, he fled the country.”

“You tracked him to Australia?”

“Yeah, he had lost all the hit-man work in California, “ he coughed, “He was too hot, as it were. Took me a year to track him to Australia but I never found him. All the snitches and other sycophants that could have told me his location were of no help to me at all.”

“What would you have done when you found him?”

“I would have brought him in.” Hal said, stating it as obvious.

“You wouldn’t have . . .killed him?”

Hal then stopped walking. Libby looked at him, still in her therapist state of mind. Hal had not shown that much emotion when she met him and she could tell he was trying hard not to show any at that moment. “I’ve thought it about,” he whispered, as a soft tear fell from his face, “But I also know that killing Embry would be a hollow satisfaction. I know it wouldn’t bring my boy back.”

Libby reached up and removed the tear from his face. “You are a good man, Hal,” she said, “More strong willed and mature than any other man in your position would be.”

“The belief in the law is the only thing I got left, “He coughed, “I lost my son. I lost my wife. It’s all I have.”

“You . .lost your wife?” she raised an eyebrow.

“She divorced me. Told me I had become obsessed with finding Embry that I was neglecting her. Turns out she was right. It’s why I sighed the divorce papers so quickly.”

“You’ve carried this pain for a while?”

“And I will probably carry it to my grave. He’s gone so deep this time, I don’t think I will ever find him.”

“There are times when we keep our pain close to remind us who we are,” Libby said, stepping closer to him, “It’s how we cope with that pain that defines us. As much as we would like to take it away, we can’t. It’s never that easy. But you’ve faced it, Hal. You don’t know it but you have faced it. Otherwise, you would be saying you want to kill him, instead of saying you want to bring him in.”

Hal acknowledged what she said. He nodded, wiping what was left of his tears. Libby smiled, crossing her arms. “You feel better?” she asked.

“Yes,” he laughed slightly, “Thank you.”

“You don’t laugh much, do you?” she said, playfully pushing him.

“Lately, not much as been funny.” He replied, walking back with her to the Tent City.

As they were walking back, Libby looked at the group of people. She saw Sawyer standing with Natasha, laughing. Kate walked by them and displayed a mild form of contempt. Jack gave some food to Bernard and Rose, watching the brunette pass him by. He took a sign and went back to the food area. Down by the beach, Joscelyn and Hurley were talking. When the water rushed up and bathed the young woman’s feet in cold water, she squeaked; grabbing Hurley. The large man laughed, pulling her away from the cold water.

Charlie was next to Claire and her baby Aaron, strumming his guitar. He was playing a soft tune, sending the blonde woman and her baby to sleep. Shannon and Sayid walked past Seth, who made it obvious he was checking out the tall blonde’s legs. He rubbed his face, taking a deep sigh. Karleigh was leaning on her side, reading a book with a pink and white cover; Libby couldn’t tell what it was. However, she did notice that Dutch was still whittling his chunk of wood, looking at the rich young lady. “There are a lot of intimacy issues here,” she whispered.

“I’m sorry?” Hal said, confused by that remark.

“It seems I have my work cut out for me.” She said, scratching her hair.

“Something tells me you will be up to the challenge.”

“Hal, I would like to ask you one more question.”

“Go ahead.”

“What was your son’s name?” she said, looking at him.

Hal smirked. It almost seemed like he was embarrassed to say it. He took a deep breath and looked at her smiling. “Ian.” He replied.

“Oh, my goodness,” she giggled, “Is that why you bonded with Dutch?”

“It was one of the few reasons, yeah,” Hal chuckled, “Dutch is a good kid but I like hearing the name Ian. It brings back good memories.”

“As long as you keep those memories close, Hal, you will be able to see things through.”

“I will remember that. Thank you again.”

“It was my pleasure,” she said, pulling his arm,” Now let’s go see if they have any cup cakes left.”

The cop and the therapist walked up to the main “buffet” area where the group was sitting around, eating food. They were laughing and telling stories like they always have.

It was another good day.