I trudge down to the mailbox in the chilly twilight. Opening it, I’m pleased to find it almost full. Looks like a few people remembered my birthday, I think. Moving out to the middle of nowhere hasn’t made people forget about me.

It’s too cold to linger by the mailbox so I quickly scoop what’s inside and hurry back to the warmth of the house. I throw the stack of mail onto the kitchen table and shrug off my coat. Sitting down,I start to look through it.

Bills, ads, charity requests—bah! I toss those to one side. Wait, here’s a hand addressed envelope with my brother’s return address. I tear it open and chuckle at the goofy gag card inside. Another card from my aunt with a five dollar bill enclosed. I shake my head, smiling at her yearly ritual. They’re the only family members I keep in even minimal contact.

The last envelope was larger than standard size and had no return address. I held it in both hands, judging the weight. It wasn’t particularly heavy, and the address was block printed in black ink. The postmark was so smeared as to be illegible.

With a little thrill I turned it over and ripped it open. A birthday surprise? A secret admirer? It could be anything! I gently took the enclosed paper from the envelope .

It was—a map? That’s it? I shook the envelope to make sure there wasn’t some sort of explanatory letter enclosed. Nope, just a map. I spread it out to take a look.

It was about eight by eleven inches. The paper was slightly yellowed, so I figured it must be pretty old. It appeared to be a map of an island, but there was no name written anywhere. I

studied the shape of the island but it wasn’t familiar to me at all.

The map was hand drawn, and the ink appeared to be aged. Hills and streams were drawn in, and a few names—“Fiddler’s Cove”, “Sleepy Hills”, “Rusty River”. But the most important thing was a star almost dead center in the island. It was marked “Home”.

I sat back in my chair, the map shaking in my trembling hands. I had left my home of origin many years ago, and never looked back. Since then, my life had been lived on the periphery—staying here a year, there a few months, never settling anywhere. I told myself I was an adventurer, or in low moments that I had a short attention span. I’d made friends along the way, of course—even a few romantic entanglements—but nothing really stuck.

So where was home? I took a deep sigh and thought back. Closing my eyes, I could see the little yellow house at the end of a dirt road. There were no flowers or trees planted around it, just dry dusty dirt. The front door had once been painted white, but flakes of paint had peeled away, showing the bare wood. I opened my eyes and shuddered. I didn’t want to think about that house, didn’t want to return even in memory. That wasn’t home.

I looked at the map again. Who had sent it? What did it mean? And why now, on my fiftieth birthday? There were no towns marked on it, just the geographical landmarks and the star marked “home”. There must be some way to figure out if this island was real. If I could solve that mystery, maybe I could also solve the mystery of who sent this to me.

Turning on my laptop, I opened the search engine. I tried “unknown island” with each of the geographical names attached—the rivers, streams, hills. Too much came up and none of it useful.

Then I tried “unknown island” and “home”. I gasped as an identical image to the one on the paper appeared. Same shape, same place names, and “home” right in the middle with a star beside it. I started reading.

“This is your special island, unique and designed just for you. When you are ready, you will find your way there.” I leaned back and rubbed my eyes. I must be really losing it, having the breakdown I’d always felt was lurking just on the edge of my mind. I snuck another peek at the screen. “When you are ready” was flashing, the font getting bigger. I slammed the laptop shut and stood up. Taking a deep breath, I started pacing around the room.

Okay, someone was playing a prank of some kind. Send me a weird map, figure I’d investigate it, make a fake website, boom—very funny. But who would go to so much trouble? My brother was a complete Luddite. He hated computers. Old friends, co-workers? Hadn’t heard from anyone since I’d moved here six months ago. Besides, I couldn’t think of anyone who would have the imagination or the desire to do this.

Was I ready? Ready to really change my life? Every time I moved, changed jobs, left an old life behind, I thought I’d changed my life. The reality was that nothing ever really changed. I stayed spart from people, friendly but not sharing myself with them. I didn’t ask others to share themselves with me either; in fact, I discouraged it. I moved through the world like a ghost, never leaving a footprint behind.

Now I was in another new town, even more isolated than usual. I mostly worked from home, only going into the office once a week. The cottage I was renting was fairly removed from any neighbors. For sure no one had welcomed me with cookies or a casserole. I didn’t really know who lived nearby.

So was I ready? I stopped pacing and sat down in front of my laptop. I opened it and stared at the flashing words. “When you are ready.” Slowly, I clicked on the screen.

A roaring filled my ears. My chair shook and bright white light blinded me. Terror filled my heart. What was happening to me? Was I dying? I blacked out.

I wasn’t sure how long I was out. Before I opened my eyes, I took a quick inventory of my body. No pain, and I could wiggle my toes and fingers. Breathing deeply, I sat up and looked around me.

I was sitting on a grassy knoll, surrounded by a circle of flowering trees. The sun shone through the branches, casting pleasing shadows. I smelled the air and caught a tang of sea breeze. My heart rate slowed down, and I smiled.

Standing up, I looked around. There was a trail through the trees—too defined to just be left by animals. There must be people here. I could feel my stomach clench at the thought. Would they be peaceful, kind? Would they leave me alone?

I was okay with dealing with people on my terms, but being stuck on an island meant it might be hard to isolate myself when needed.

There was no sense in putting it off. I started down the trail, looking around to try and get my bearings a bit. I glanced over my shoulder at my starting point. There was nothing there to show I’d landed—no scorched earth, not even down trodden grass. It made me feel a little uneasy. What if I didn’t want to stay on this mysterious island? Where was the way back?

Chastising myself for premature cowardice, I continued down the path. Birds were twittering in the trees, and every now and then I caught sight of them darting in and out of the branches. There didn’t seem to be any other living creatures about.

“Hello.” I stopped and stared. The person approaching me stopped also. “Didn’t mean to startle you. I’m sure you’re freaked out enough already.” The man smiled in a friendly manner.

I scanned his appearance, mentally checking for threats. He was about my height, sandy blonde hair cuf short, green eyes. He was dressed in jeans and a blue plaid shirt. The only odd thing, if it really was odd, was that he was barefoot.

Okay, so he seemed harmless. Second thing, was I attracted to him at all? After all, he was a relatively nice looking man in my age group. No, there wasn’t any physical chemistry going on. I cleared my throat and spoke.

“I’m new here, as I guess you can tell. I—I don’t know where to go, what to do. I’m not even sure how I got here, or how to leave.”

“Leave?” The man laughed incredulously. “No one wants to leave here. You’ll find that out soon enough. I’m your official greeter, by the way. Name’s Harrison.” He performed a mock bow. “Here to answer any and all questions and to make your transition smooth.”

“Transition? What am I, dead? Is this heaven?” My mind was whirling and I felt faint.

I must have looked as bad as I felt because Harrison reached out and put a hand on my shoulder. “Steady there. No, you’re not dead. A lot of us felt the same way at first. Our brains jusr want to go with what we know. But this is something completely different.” He patted a large rock that I hadn’t noticed before. “Have a seat and we’ll talk.”

I sat on the rock. It was pleasantly warm from the sun. Harrison stood before me and smiled. “I’m just going to begin at the beginning. That’s the best way, right?”

By now I was ready for anything. In fact, I was annoyed and uncomfortable with my lack of knowledge. I generally liked to know the ins and outs of things, to be in control. Waiting for someone to enlighten me was not in my comfort zone. “Please continue,” I said a bit grudgingly.

“Colonization of The Island—yes, that’s the actual name—began in the early 1900s. An enterprising young woman by the name of Adelaide was very unhappy with the world she lived in. As you’re probably aware, life for women at that time was pretty restricted. Adelaide and a few like-minded friends began to meet and talk about a better way of life, a utopian society.”

Harrison took a deep breath and continued. “So far so good, right? There are lots of examples throughout history of people joining together to try and live in a better way. Some were successful to a certain degree, but most failed miserably. Why? Because human nature can be a tricky, unpredictable thing. That’s what is so different about what we have here. The unpredictability is factored into our lifestyle.”

“Wait a minute,” I broke in. “I don’t really need a history lesson right now. I just want the bare facts to start with—where am I, how did I get here, and why me?”

Harrison gave me a searching look. “The first lesson is patience,” he said solemnly. Then he burst out laughing, a full, clear sound. I couldn’t help but join in—it was contagious.

He took both my hands and pulled me up. “Okay, bad move on my part. I should have read you better. Let’s get moving and we’ll talk as we go. Moving with purpose should help with the anxiety, right?” He winked and flashed a friendly grin.

I stretched a bit—not so much because I needed to, more to just show that I was taking my time. We started down the path together.

It wasn’t long before the trees became more sparse and I could check out the landscape. There were rolling hills, pastures, and some distant farm buildings. When Harrison hollered “Halloo out there,” and waved his arm, I was startled to see a tiny figure in the distance wave back.

“So people work here? What’s utopian about that?” I was never one who found my work fulfilling. Maybe that was because I usually took whatever position met my salary requirements.

“Now you must be joking with me. Work is essential to living a happy life. Purposeful, meaningful work.” Harrison had lengthened his stride and I had to hurry to keep up.

“Oh, so you’re going to tell me that being a cleaner is purposeful? Or a trash collector?” My voice had a snide sound to it that I didn’t try to hude.

“Finding purpose in work has little to do with the job itself. It has everything to do with the attitude and intent of the worker.” Harrison glanced at me and smiled. “I think you know this already, if you’re honest with yourself.”

He was right, darn it. As a kid I had thought that I would love my job, that whatever it was would be something that excited me every day. I sure didn’t get that idea from my family. Those who actually held down a job complained constantly—not enough money, idiot bosses, expectations too high, and on and on.

“You know, you’re right. I used to read a lot, and the jobs some of the characters had were so cool. I honestly thought that would be my life, too.” I snorted back a laugh. “Found out otherwise pretty fast.”

Harrison clapped me on the back. “Don’t stress out. Those feelings will come back to you, now that you’re in the right place. And, here we are!”

We both stopped. I looked around. We were standing on the edge of a cobblestone street. Both sides of the street were lined with quaint buildings—a shoe repair shop, a small grocers, a clothing store, a cafe. Beyond this street there were other, more narrow roads. They led out towards the rolling hills and were dotted with houses. Some looked like typical English cottages, thatched roofs and all. Others were a bit more modern, ranch style and Cape Cods. I shook my head in amazement.

“Wow, I mean just wow. Everything looks so bright and clean, like a movie set. Awesome. But where are all the people? Besides you, the only other living soul I’ve seen is that farmer you waved at.” I looked inquiringly at Harrison.

“Oh, they’re at the Gathering Spot.” I could tell by the emphasis he placed on the words that they would be capitalized. “It’s just down the road and over the next hill. It’s where we greet all newcomers.”

“How many newcomers do you get a year? And by the way, how many people live on the island?” I asked casually. I was starting to feel a tightness in my chest. Harrison’s explanations were pretty vague,and I really had no idea what I was walking into.

“We’ll talk about that when everybody’s present.” Harrison wasn’t looking at me, and his pace quickened. Now I was really getting nervous. What if I didn’t like these people? What if their lifestyle expectations were wacko? And most importantly, was I truly stuck here, no matter what? Harrison had implied that.

Rounding a bend in the road, we stopped. In front of me there was a clearing, surrounded by cypress trees. A group of about fifty or so people were gathered there, some sitting on blankets, some perched on the large rocks that bordered the clearing. Scanning the crowd, I could see that it was made up of people of various ages and ethnic groups. The main thing they had in common was their expression—a wide smile adorned each face.

“Ellen, everybody. Everybody, Ellen.” Harrison made a sweeping bow as he presented me to the grinning crowd. I wasn’t smiling in return. My uneasiness was now at a fever pitch. I felt like I was suffocating when I tried to take a breath. I took a small step backwards.

“I think I made a mistake,” I managed to say through my growing terror. “This isn’t for me. Back home wasn’t so bad. Just point me towatds the exit and I’ll be out of your hair.”

I didn’t think anything could be creepier than the group smiles, but they proved me wrong when they started laughing. Harrison joined in. The most frightening thing was that everyone’s eyes had a blank stare, completely at odds with the sounds their mouths were making.

Harrison stopped laughing abruptly. When he stopped, everyone else stopped too. “Remember, I told you The Island is a utopian community. It works. No one ever wants to leave. You wouldn’t have received an invitation if this wasn’t the right place for you.” The crowd nodded in agreement.

“Hasn’t there ever been a mixup, some kind of mistake? Maybe the invitation was meant for someone else, and it got crossed in the mail somehow.” My voice sounded shaky and high pitched.

Harrison shook his head. The crowd stared at me in silence. “No, we don’t make those kind of mistakes. You’re supposed to be here. I guess the only question is, in what capacity?”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Honestly, I think we’d all be happier if I just left right now. No harm, no foul.” I tried to smile as though I wasn’t terrified inside.

Harrison grabbed my left hand in an iron grip. “Group, what say you all? Is Ellen fit to be an alternate?” Heads began to nod, and then the chant began. “Yes, yes, yes.” I stood before them, trembling so hard I thought I might fall to my knees. The next thing I knew, darkness fell over me.

I woke to find myself on a soft bed with a white comforter over me. I blinked and saw an older woman with dusky skin sitting in a chair by me. “Oh good, you’re awake. You gave us quite a scare.” She chuckled, but not in the scary laughing way that the group had been doing. She seemed—dare I say it—normal. She reached over and patted my hand. “If you’re ready, I’ll tell you what happens next.”

Taking a deep breath, I nodded my head. “I’m more than ready.” I sat up with the pillow behind me as support. Maybe I’d finally get some answers that didn’t scare me half to death.

“First of all, don’t blame Harrison too much. He’s been here quite a while, and he was so excited to be chosen to greet a newcomer. I’m afraid his enthusiasm overtook his common sense.” Her soft chuckle actually warmed me. I relaxed and smiled.

“The truth is, The Island isn’t right for everyone. We tend to have this group mentality, and that can seem stifling to some. Not right or wrong, just the way it is. Now, here’s the problem.” She straightened in her seat and looked at me directly.

“We can’t let information about our society get out. You can imagine the media sensation—a group of people who live in peace, love their jobs, love each other and live forever.”

“Live forever?” I asked in a small voice. Just when I was thinking that I was talking to a sane person, she comes out with this.

She picked up on my vibe immediately. She chuckled again, a sound as comforting as the scent of just-baked bread. “Yes, Ellen, it’s true. We Island dwellers have learned the secret of immortality. It’s a great gift, but it does come with some problems. For example, how do we control the population on The Island? It’s not that big, and we’ve been here since the early 1900s. So we’ve come up with several options to help us maintain our lifestyle without undue burden.”

She looked encouragingly at me as though waiting for a response, but I honestly didn’t have one. I just nodded dumbly, letting her know in that way to go on with her narrative.

“One of the choices we give people is to explore other habitats and settle there. Not many have done it, but every decade or so a small number will do so.” She paused, with a troubled look on her face. “To our knowledge , none have been successful in this endeavor. In fact,I lost my son in this way. But hope springs eternal, yes? He might yet send word that he has found happiness elsewhere.”

“I’m so sorry for you,” I said softly. I’d never had a child, but I could imagine the pain of such a loss. It suddenly hit me that I’d lived my life never knowing loss, because I never allowed myself to make connections. Which way of life was better? I wasn’t sure any more.

“Thank you, dear. But going on, another option is the one Harrison alluded to in the meeting—becoming an alternate. You might find it hard to take in at first, but it’s really quite an elegant solution for those who prefer not to live on The Island full time. An alternate is able to return to the Old World—that’s what we call your old reality—under certain conditions.”

Sitting up, I leaned forward. “You mean I can leave? I have a choice?” I realized I was wringing my hands together. The stress was really getting to me.

“Well yes, but as I said, there are conditions. Once you choose to be an alternate, there’s no going back. You will find yourself in your previous life in the Old World, but with one major difference—no one will be able to see you or speak with you. In some ways, you might think of it as becoming a ghost.”

“I don’t get it. What’s the point?” My mind was racing. Would it really be so bad to be a ghost? Might even be fun, in a weird sort of way.

“You would have a job to do—recruitment. Moving through the Old World sight unseen, you would be able to identify those people who might be good candidates for moving to The Island. I mentioned that small groups have attempted to colonize other areas. We need more people who are willing to try, people with special skills that will enable them to be successful pioneers.”

I got up from the bed and started pacing in front of the woman. I realized I didn’t even know her name. Was she telling me the truth, or was this some sort of delusion? She watched me calmly as I stopped pacing and stood in front of her.

“This all sounds—very interesting,” I said haltingly. “But you must understand that I have some questions. I mean, I don’t know you at all. I don’t know your name, your position here, anything. I’m also wondering if someone recruited me to come here—and if so, who? Why?”

The woman laughed, her face creasing in pleasant wrinkles. “Of course, you’re right. Let’s start with my name. I’m Oona, and I suppose the best way to describe my position here is Elder.” I could tell by the emphasis she gave the word that Elder was capitalized.

“Now, as to your other question—yes, of course you were recruited. It doesn’t really matter who sent you the map. Rest assured, the individual had observed you and your lifestyle for quite some time. The recruiter also conferred with those of us on the Island council. We all agreed that sending you the map was the right thing to do.”

“But I don’t get it. You said you’re looking for people who are risk takers, willing to be pioneers. And yet you want me to be a recruiter. Why? Don’t you think I’m brave enough, fearless enough to explore new lands?” Even as I asked, I knew within myself that I was too afraid to colonize unknown lands.

Oona reached out and patted my hand. “Sometimes we’re not sure until we meet someone in person where their gifts lie. You, my dear, have a methodical mind, and you’re not afraid of solitude. Recruitment would be perfect for you. Are you willing to try?”

And that’s how I ended up here—although “here” changes as needed. I’m the voice you hear in your head, urging you to try something new. The serendipitous meeting with just the right person for you? Thank me now. Sometimes I’m just a quiet observer, taking note of unusual responses. I report to Oona in a way that is most easily described as telepathy, although it’s far superior to that.

Most of all, I’m happy. I never thought this type of existence would suit me, but then, I didn’t have any idea of what would. I’m in the groove, I’ve found my rhythm. I’m content.

So, are you listening? Will you answer that off-beat email? Open the package without a return address? Follow your intuition? We’ll be waiting.

The End