The Caribbean blue glistened under her pristine bow, while a cloudless sky looked down from above. Christened Resilient, she was a truly magnificent yacht one of the last of her kind. There was seventy feet of nautical bliss held inside her shiny white hull, and her present owner loved every inch, but only felt completely at ease in one spot, the helm.
His name was Thomas Grayson and at the moment he was at the wheel. Grayson was eighty-two, however, with his tanned athletic build and full head of thick white hair he easily looked in his sixties.
He held the wheel firmly as he looked upon the sea, locked in a blank stare, completely entranced in thought. His employees had learned to recognize this intense gaze many years ago, it basically meant “whatever I am thinking about is far more important than what you are, go away” and they learned to be very wary of it.
The distant horizon ahead remained virtually empty, although a tiny speck soon made an appearance off the port bow, breaking the helmsman’s trance. Thomas adjusted his course for this discovery glancing quickly at his Submariner Rolex as he edged the wheel slowly to port.
As the yacht made its way toward the small dot, which was now obviously an island, Thomas locked the wheel and turned slowly around, grasping the rail as he did and looking to the deck below. The young man he saw stretched out in the chaise-lounge, seemed somewhat out of place trying to use The Wall Street Journal to ward off the hot Caribbean sun.
“Alec !” Thomas yelled above the sound of the boat’s wake
“Yeah Grandpa what?”
“How about putting business aside for a while and coming up here,” he replied with a grin.
“What’s up?” Alec said as he closed the paper
“Nothing just humor an old man will you, and sit up here with me for awhile, besides you’ve had enough sun for the day.”
“All right, I’ll be right there.” He said placing the Journal under the cushion.
Alec had always obeyed his grandfather, he loved the man dearly, and had a deep admiration for his accomplishments, Thomas Grayson was an extraordinary man.
Grayson had been a ship radio operator in World War II, after the war he went to work for a small electronics firm in Boston that manufactured transistor radios. He pursued a Business Degree at night, getting it within two years, along with a wife, son and many dreams. In 1958 he went for one of those dreams.
Working his way up in the company, he managed to save enough money to make a move. Having recently seen the birth of the computer industry and more importantly seeing this infant’s potential, He knew which direction to move in. All he needed was a niche’.
One night while dismantling a radio to show his 10 year old son Charlie, how it worked, he found it. As he went to take the radio’s housing off, it slipped out of his hands, breaking on the floor. He stared at the broken pieces for a little over an hour, long after his son gave up trying to ask what the matter was. “Nothing’s the matter” he finally said to the empty room. “Everything’s just fine.”
Two months later he purchased a rundown sheet metal factory that hadn’t seen much use since the war and created Grayson Forming Inc. He and five employees spent their days and nights forming sheet metal into housings for the mammoth computers that were beginning to infiltrate the business world. They earned a decent living knowing that their day would eventually come and in 1961, it did, Grayson signed a contract with a fast growing company named International Business Machines to make housings for their computers. In December of 62′ Thomas Grayson became a millionaire and his luck didn’t stop there.
His wife, Rebecca, who was quickly learning every date on the Boston Social Calendar, was invited to a party for the new President of MIT. She convinced Thomas that he might make some business contacts if he attended, she was right. Upon meeting the new President he asked if it might be possible to have a tour of the school’s new computer facility.
The President, not one to deny a possible benefactor, granted this request and Grayson found himself on campus the next day.
He started on the first floor of the modern facility, not seeing much of interest. On the second, going from Lab to Lab he met many students eagerly attending to their projects, some clearly irritated by his interruption, others he discovered would gladly spend hours talking about their research. At 11am on the third floor he walked into Lab 22, and at 9:30pm he came out, with two new employees and an amazing edge on his competition.
The two students had discovered a way to process data ten times faster then any computer in existence and Grayson Technologies was born. The company grew tremendously over the next few years, in the early 70’s Grayson began diversifying into the aerospace, communication and shipping industries. Constant growth made Grayson a Billionaire by his 50th birthday.
Always fearful of his competitors Grayson spent millions on R & D and his company now held over 200 patents. Grayson also had close ties with the Defense Department and experimental prototypes with military applications were even used during the Gulf War in 91′. He had come a long way in fifty years, facing many difficult decisions and personal crises; few however, like the one ahead of him.
Fine looking boy, Thomas had always thought, as he saw the likeness of the boy’s father in those piercing blue eyes of his.
“Want me to take over?”
“No, I’m fine.” replied Thomas “Just thought you might like to get away from the damn journal, that’s all”
“Actually Grandpa, I was going to recommend a couple of companies that might make good acquisitions for us. The numbers look perfect,” he said anxiously.
“Alec, enough about business, this is a vacation remember.”
“Okay, okay.”
“How’s she running?” he finally asked after a few minutes of awkward silence.
“Like the day I bought her,” Thomas responded throwing the throttle to full as he spoke.
“Owning a boat’s like owning a company, Alec. It may cost you a lot to get it, but if you take good care of it. Put someone you trust behind the wheel and never take its performance for granted, she will serve her purpose well.”
Alec nodded silently in reply, his grandfather was famous for bizarre analogies that always made more sense the more you thought about them.
“What’s the name of that island up ahead?” Alec asked.
“I’m not sure. I know it’s uninhabited though; I came by this way a few years ago. There’s a nice lagoon, we can pull into. Want to check it out?”
“Sure.”
The island was incredibly beautiful, its north side was pure rock, with a sheer cliff towering two hundred feet above the crashing surf, Thomas veered off towards the east side, where the lagoon was located. They guessed that the whole island couldn’t be more than a half a mile in diameter, the ominous cliff hung on the side of a small mountain plush with trees and vegetation which cascaded all the way down to sea level, finally giving way to the beautiful white sand familiar to the Caribbean.
The desolate beach to the starboard was long and thin, its only occupants some driftwood and the dark shadows of palm trees, leaning to the sea.
At a brisk 20 knots it took Resilient just over two minutes to reach the rocks at the sand’s end.
“The lagoons just around these rocks over here,” Thomas pointed.
The lagoon’s beach was roughly two hundred feet long and at least thirty feet wide, water to treelike. A sizable coral reef was now apparent to them, on the port side, and several schools of beautifully colored fish majestically wove their way along side of it.
“What a spot,” Alec exclaimed. “This is magnificent!”
“I told you it was nice,” Thomas exclaimed, putting the powerful engine in idle. “We can have lunch on the beach over there.
“Definitely,” Alec said, scanning the beach, only slightly upset at the lack of scantily clad girls he’d been seeing all week. Something did catch his eye however.
“Did you see that Grandpa?”
“No, what.” he said as he readied the boat for anchor.
“I swear I saw a flash of light next to the palm tree over there. There it is again, it looks like some kind of sign.”
“Well, why don’t you swim over and check it out. You can work up a little appetite and I’ll bring the dinghy over with lunch.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Good luck son,” Thomas whispered to the air.
“What, Grandpa?” Alec said taking off his Tevas.
“Nothing just be careful,” he replied.
“No problem, see you in a few,” he finished while diving overboard.
The swim was a relatively easy one, the tide was with him and he found himself ashore in just a few minutes. As he walked up to the sign, which now appeared to be blank, he had the eerie feeling that someone was watching him. That feeling quickly replaced by pain, for the white sand on his now dry feet was scorching hot and he scurried up to some shade for relief, just ten feet away from the sign, which he discovered was only a piece of sheet metal propped against some driftwood. After his feet cooled down, he approached the discarded metal and flipped it over onto the sand revealing a large manila envelope with only one word on it.
ALEXANDER.
The confusion lasted just a second as complete astonishment took over, for at that instant he realized that both Resilient and his grandfather were nowhere in sight.
