Part 263: Break From The Past

Barbara hummed a tune while she put up the laundry to dry on the lines, connected from tree to tree. Rose was happy to have someone helping her. They had shared stories from back home and how to raise children. She mentioned Bernard’s story about being overprotective of his nieces. Barbara mentioned how her husband Edward said he would always have known that his son would grow up to be a ladies man. The redhead then paused, feeling of her chest. She tried not to cry. Rose then stopped what she was doing and walked over to meet her face to face. “It hurts when you think about him?” she asked.

“Yes,” Barbara whispered.

“That pain will be with you for a while. But it will fade. The grief will leave and all that will be left will be the love your husband gave you and your son.”

Barbara sniffed. “That’s not that much comfort.”

“It’s not suppose to be,” the old black woman said simply, “But it is the God honest truth.”

The redhead smiled, relaxed by the older woman’s words. “Thank you, Rose.” She smiled.

“Anytime,” she replied, gently patting her on the arm.

“Mommy?” Eddie said behind her.

The redheaded woman turned and saw her son standing near him, holding Mr. Kangaroo. She wiped her tears and kneeled before him. “What’s wrong?” the little boy asked.

“Nothing, Eddie. I was . . .just thinking about your father.” She confessed.

“I know,” he sighed, “I miss him too. But he’s looking down on us, mommy. I can feel it.”

Barbara couldn’t be helped but feel join coming from her chest at her son’s words. She was never really a church going person but the thought of her son accepting and knowing what Heaven was; filled her with a relief not many mothers know. “Of course he is, baby,” she kissed him on the forehead.

“Mommy, “ Eddie said, changing the subject, “What is wrong with Jilly?”

“Why, honey? What’s wrong?”

“Something happened to her in her past, didn’t it?” the little boy said.

Barbara was not only confused by her son’s comment, but she was also amazed. “How do you know that, Eddie?” she asked.

“I can tell when she looks at me,” he said, scuffing his foot in the sand, “There is sadness in her eyes. She is happy when she is with me but I can tell . . .she is sad sometimes too. She . . . .had a little brother, didn’t she?”

“It’s not my place to say, Eddie,” his mother sighed.

“Is it okay if I ask her?”

Barbara paused from his question. She already knew what happened to Jilly’s sibling; she told her in the weeks they were held hostage by the Liberation. The older woman knew of the horrors and wasn’t really keen on her son knowing them. But she saw something in her son that she didn’t see before the crash; strength. He was no longer the scared little boy that would hide from his parents when they argued. Barbara would never been able to thank Tony for what he has given her son. “Okay, Eddie,” she took a deep breath, “I really don’t want you learning of such things at a young age but . . .you want to help Jilly, don’t you?”

“Uh, huh,” he shook his head.

“Then maybe . . . .maybe if she told you what happened to her, maybe she won’t be so sad.”

“I am hoping so,” Eddie said, turning around.

Barbara watched her son walk away. For a brief moment, she couldn’t see a young boy; she saw a young man. The magic of the Island touched her in a way she never though possible.



Joscelyn flopped the dice and scored another double six. She giggled as she moved her piece. Hurley just sighed, shaking his head in mild amusement. “I think it’s my curse to lose at this game.” He chuckled.

“How much did you say you owed Walt?” she asked.

“Eight four thousand dollars.” Hurley said with a bright smile.

“Oh, Hurley, “ Joscelyn giggled, “You shouldn’t let your self get dug in so deep like that?”

“I can afford it.”

Joscelyn laughed, and playfully pushed him. Hurley smirked. Little did she know he really could afford it. He played his move and managed to advance up a little ways. Joscelyn rolled her dice and came up short. The large man smirked; he was worried if she had come up with another double six, that Mia didn’t shut off his curse after all. “What is your mother like, Hurley?” she asked.

“My mom is a devote Catholic and a travel agent specializing in guilt trips.” He smirked.

Joscelyn laughed again. Hurley smiled; it had been a long time since he was able to make any girl laugh this much on his own wit and not his appearance. “I hope my mom is okay,” he sighed, “I often wonder if she is like . . got a candle vigil on my photo back in her living room.”

“That’s nice. Hopefully she doesn’t think you are dead and just thinks you are missing.” The brunette mentioned.

“You think your mom is doing the same thing?” Hurley asked.

“Probably. But I am sure my sister in California is definitely doing it. I can’t wait to be with her.”

“So you are moving to California?” the large man pondered, “Got tired of London then?”

Joscelyn looked at him with a somber face. “Yes,” she whispered.

“It’s one of my places to visit before I die,” Hurley said, moving his piece, “Maybe you can show me around.”

“Maybe,” she said, taking her turn.

“What was life like growing up in London?”

Joscelyn took a deep breath. “Complicated.” She whispered.

“Did you get that scar in a playground accident or something?”

The young brunette then accidentally overthrew her dice, making it land in Hurley’s lap. The large man swiftly caught it. As he looked up to her, he noticed the sadness in her eyes. She coughed, realizing she wasn’t breathing. Then she quickly turned and walked away. Hurley slowly grunted and closed his eyes. “Damn it,” he whispered.


Hurley continued his walk through the jungle, kicking the remains of a coconut husk. He felt mad at himself, thinking he made a mental mistake when he asked Joscelyn about her scar. But he realized she wouldn’t be mad at him; just mad that he asked. Why was it such a sore subject for her? He wasn’t sure if he should know but he wanted to know. She was special, he admitted it. His mother always said he should get a girlfriend and at the moment, he wanted to be closer to Joscelyn. She was exactly the type of woman he wanted; not wild, not crazy, and definitely not a smoker. However, he wasn’t sure what would happen when he revealed to her that he was a millionaire. “I hope it deserved it.” Locke said behind him.

Hurley abruptly turn around, not expecting to find the bald man in the jungle with. “what . .deserved . .What are you talking about, dude?” the large man ask.

“The coconut husk that you’ve been kicking for thirty feet,” Locke pointed at his feet, “I hope, whatever wrong it did, you are giving the appropriate foot justice.”

“Oh,” he grunted, kicking it deep into the bushes.

“Why the long face, Hugo? You home sick?”

Hurley chuckled, “I am dude, but not today.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

The large man looked at the ground, and tucked his hands in his side pockets. “I guess it’s no secret I like Joscelyn.” He admitted.

“Yeah, that’s not a secret. Is Joscelyn okay?”

“Honestly, don’t know, dude. I was trying to make small talk and then I asked her about her scar on her forehead. I never realized it was a such a touchy subject. She walked away while we were in the middle of playing a game.”

Locke opened up a small water bottle out of his backpack and took a sip. “You know what the most common thing stolen out of a drug store is, Hugo?” he asked.

Hurley shrugged his shoulders. “Drugs?” he pondered.

“Nope.”

“Candy?”

“No.”

“Uh . . .magazines?”

“Nope.”

“Sunglasses?”

“No.”

“I give up then, dude. What is it?”

“Preparation H.” Locke smirked.

The large man blinked. He looked to the side and back to his older friend. “For real?” he asked.

Locke shook his head.

“That’s crazy,” Hurley scoffed.

“Yet, there are people out there, who would rather be a thief than admit they have problems.”

Hurley heard what the man said. He shook his head again, massaging his arm. “Then you are saying there is no telling how far Joscelyn will go to NOT tell me about her scar.” He whispered.

“Some wounds run deeper than others. I advise you to take it slow. Continue to be there for her when she needs you and she will probably just open up.”

“That’s what I have been trying.” Hurley said.

“You’ve been trying. Now you need to try harder, “ the bald man then turned and looked behind him, “You agree, Eddie?”

Hurley coughed when he saw that the little boy had been behind them the whole time. Eddie looked up to them, holding his Mr. Kangaroo. He then smiled at the two men. “Yeah, just try harder,” Eddie snickered, “Hugo.”

“Oh, great.” Hurley said, showing that Eddie though his real name was funny, “Maybe I should get Hal to arrest you for contributing to the delinquency of a minor.”

“You’re going to do all right, Hugo,” Locke patted him on the arm.

“Hugo,” Eddie giggled again.

“Come on, rug-rat,” Hurley motioned, “You can make fun of my name while we head back to the beach.”

“Hugo, you are trying to get Joscelyn to reveal her secrets?” Eddie asked him.

“Well . . .yeah, kinda.” Hurley grunted.

“I hope to do the same with Jilly. She has a pain that she carries. Joscelyn carries a pain too?”

“So it would seem,”

“You should get her to tell it to you. It’s very important that you do.”

Hurley then stopped abruptly, gently grabbing Eddie by the head. He slowly turned the kid around to face him, like someone turning a dial. He leaned over on his knees and looked the child in the eyes best he could. “What are you talking about?” he asked, “Why is it important?”

“Cause when they left go of their pain, good things happen,” Eddie smiled, “I seen it. It happened with Tony, Uncle John, Uncle McKay, Aunt Taylor and Aunt Mandy.”

“Sounds like he’s smarter than everybody thinks,” Locke smiled.

“Yeah, him and Walt should tour the talk show circuit.” Hurley walked past them.

The three friends arrived at the beach. Locke began his walk toward the other end of the beach while Hurley went one direction and Eddie walked off to find Jilly. The bald man continued down the beach, looking to find a quiet area to continue reading Fender’s Journal. However a peaceful place might be difficult to find; as Aaron continued screaming from his cradle. Claire was rocking him back and forth but to no avail. “I know I woke you and I'm very, very sorry;” The Australian told her baby,” but please, staying awake for 8 hours straight . . . isn't that just cruel and unusual punishment?”

“How's that cradle treating you?” Locke asked in passing.

“The cradles great. It's the baby that's the problem.”

“What's wrong?”

“He just won't sleep.”

“Really?” Locke took a step and motioned to pick him up, “May I?”

Claire moved aside and allowed the older man to pick up Aaron. Locke then walked over to the blanket while he continued to cry. He gently put down the baby and then began to wrap him tightly in the smaller blanket. Claire blinked as within near seconds, her child had stopped crying. “Babies like the feeling of being constricted.” The older man informed her, “It's not until we're older that we develop a desire to be free. There we go.”

Locke then handed the baby back to Claire. She smiled, holding him and happy to see he had stopped crying. “You know, I think everybody knows more about my baby than me.” She mentioned.

“Everybody?” Locke joked.

“I read Charlie the riot act a few days ago for attacking Clay and he gave me my own riot act for the way I casually treat him. And as mad as it made me . . .turns out he was right. He has been good to be and Aaron. You know, it's like we're playing mum and dad to this baby. Yet, I don't remember marrying him.”

Locke laughed at what she had said.

“No, seriously. I mean, we're practically strangers, him and me. For all I know, Charlie could have had some bad experience with a priest.”

“Oh, I seriously doubt that.”

“Well, then why did he smash that Virgin Mary statue?”

“A what?” the bald man inquired.

“When the others were taken by the Liberation, I saw Charlie outside crying. He and Seth were talking, then Charlie smashed that statue he was carrying around. Seth was comforting him about something but I couldn’t heard it. I . . . I just don’t understand him.”

“Maybe you should take the time to understand him.” Locke patted her on the knee and left.

Claire gently rocked her baby as the older man left her. After a few minutes, she placed Aaron back down in the cradle. The blonde began to think of Charlie, wondering what to do with him. Then a pair of her friends interrupted her thoughts. “Hey, Claire,” Jenny laughed.

“Jenny, “ she smiled, “Good to see you up and about.”

“Yeah, I figured it was time I returned to the land of the living.” The young teenager said.

“Well, Claire,” Kristy smiled, “You are wanted down at the other end of the beach. We’ll watch little Aaron while you check it out.”

“Check what out?” Claire pondered.

“Group therapy.” Jenny smirked, while Kristy held in her laughter.



Claire walked down the beach toward the Turboshaft concert area. She thought for a second that Charlie and Seth might be up to something but Jenny and Kristy swore that even though the two of them would be there, it wasn’t their idea. The Australian woman wondered if she should refuse but she could stand the break from the baby; happy that she had friends willing to help her. Claire then turned the corner and was amazed at the handful of people there. Jack turned to look at her, as he was sitting next to Karleigh and Hurley. Next to them in a counter clockwise motion was Clay, Dutch, Kate, Shanna, Sawyer then Seth and Charlie. Libby walked over to the young Australian woman. “Welcome, Claire, “ she said, “please sit down . . .between Dutch and Kate.”

“What is this?” she asked.

“Group therapy,” Jack smirked, “I am quite curious to see it’s outcome.”

Claire smirked and walk over, sitting next to Kate and Dutch. Sawyer continued to drink his beer and finally finished it. He raised it up and gave it to Libby. The psychologist walked out to a section where she could face the whole crowd. “Thank you all for coming,” she smiled, “I’ve been observing each and everyone of you for the past few days. It seems we have a lot of issues that we deal with and one thing that everybody has in common, is that we are all trapped on his Island. This little session is to work for how we deal with one another.”

“Sounds like fun,” Sawyer coughed.

“Why are you here, hillbilly?” asked Seth.

“I was bored. What’s your excuse?” he smirked.

“Regardless of your reasons,” Libby interrupted them, “ I think what we are about to do will help to break some of the tension that exists on the beach.”

“What ARE we doing, Libby?” Karleigh.

Libby smirked as she took a step forward. No one had noticed but there was a piece of the plane laying in the middle. The strawberry blonde bent down and placed the bottle on it’s side and twirled it, making it scoot along it’s side axis. “Spin the Bottle?” Claire raised an eyebrow, “We are gonna play Spin The Bottle?”