It was the last day of final exams at The College of Perpetual Hope in mid-December. Sarah breezed through her Anthropology 101 exam while most of her classmates struggled with the first page. She looked over her answers, re-read her essays, picked up her coat and her test paper, and walked up to the front of the room. She handed the exam to Dr. Peterson and was turning toward the door when he called her back.
"Sarah," he said quietly to avoid disturbing the other students. "I was wondering if you could meet me in my office at three this afternoon. I have a research project that I thought you might be interested in for a full course credit. I've got a couple other students meeting me as well." Even though Sarah was now done with her exams and had planned to head home for a well-deserved rest, she jumped at this opportunity. Anthropology was not her major. In fact, she was half way through her sophomore year and still hadn't decided on a major. But the idea of finding out about the people of some foreign land and time fascinated her. Dr. Peterson seemed pleased and she put on her coat and headed out onto the frozen campus.
When Sarah arrived at the professor's office shortly before three, he had not yet arrived. There was, however, a very jumpy young man and a young woman who looked as if she had fallen asleep leaning against the wall. At five after three, Dr. Peterson arrived with an armful of final exams and led the small group into his office. Sarah had never seen the professor's office before and was fascinated by the shelves of pots and statues, all ornately designed. There were framed photographs on the walls of ancient runes and ruins.
"OK," said the professor, rifling through his desk. "I've called the three of you here not just because you all have a talent for the study of ancient peoples, but because you all seem to have a genuine interest in it. As I mentioned, I have a project for which the college has agreed to give full course credit to anyone who participates. If successful, it could also result in your names, as well as my own, being recorded in the history books." At this thought, a tiny smile appeared at the professor's lips and a sparkle appeared in his blue eyes. "Now, I know it's a lot to ask, but it would require you to work through the winter break, so..." At this, the jumpy young man and the sleepy young woman stood.
"I... my Mom... she's expecting me home for the holidays and..." he said no more, but simply disappeared through the door.
"I'm going back home to Massachusetts," said the young woman. "Five brothers and sisters are all coming back from all over the country. Sorry professor." She followed the young man.
Sarah and the professor sat alone in his office. The professor seemed a little discouraged. "And you?" he asked.
Sarah laughed. "I have absolutely nothing better to do," she said. The professor didn't like this answer either. "I mean... I would love to do this and I've got some vacation time coming at work, so... I'm all yours." Sarah realized after she said it how cheesy this sounded, but some of the smile came back to the professor's face. He seemed to have found what he was looking for in his desk as well as in a research assistant.
"Have you ever heard of the Island of Paradisio?" he asked. Sarah shook her head. "It's a tiny volcanic island in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. It's said that it was once inhabited by a tribe that had discovered the Fountain of Youth. The Paradisians, however, disappeared without a trace more than a thousand years ago and with a volcanic eruption at the turn of the seventeenth century, their villages have all been wiped out. All that archeologists were able to find were a few bits of pottery." At this, the professor held up a photograph of a piece of pottery.
The piece was gray with ash, but the design was still pretty clear. Three vertical wavy lines with an upright triangle on either side were etched into the clay. "This is the most basic of the designs found, but this is said to be the Fountain of Youth. The one river on the island does flow between two volcanoes, but it is so polluted with ash that it is impossible to drink leading me to believe that there was some other source for the Paridisian's strength and power. Also, no one is quite certain on the fate of the people, their origins, their daily life. Everything that is known about them is purely guesswork as far as I'm concerned."
Sarah tried to drink in all the information she had just been given. "So are you in?" he asked. Sarah mirrored his smile and nodded.
For the next week, Sarah and Dr. Peterson scoured every bit of information in the library gathered about the findings on the Island of Paradisio. It seemed that the island had been rediscovered in 1868 by an off-course American fishing boat. About ten years later, a team of archeologists began a dig and when no logical picture of the history of the island could be made from the shards of pottery, the investigation was dropped. Funds and interest both faded fast.
The common theme in all of the pieces of pottery found was this river between two mountains. There were carvings of the river with a man drinking from it rising in strength and power. There were carvings of the river with a man refusing to drink falling into a heap in the shore. There were carvings of a serpent swimming against the tide between the mountains and returning with a baby. All of these gave rise to the idea that the Paradisians had discovered what they believed to be a Fountain of Youth. But then there was a carving of a woman lying on the bank letting the water of the river wash over her hand that didn't quite fit into this theory. She seemed so calm and happy as she looked into the water, but she was definitely not young or strong or healthy.
Sarah and Dr. Peterson worked day and night in the empty library, tossing around ideas, jotting down notes. They talked little about themselves, but seemed to growing closer, though neither of them could place a finger on how or why. Sarah began to find joy in the simple presence of this extremely intelligent and enthusiastic man. He was old enough to be her father with his silver hair and wrinkles around his bright blue eyes, but age didn't seem to be a factor inside the walls of the library. When he would find a new bit of information or have some sort of idea, he seemed like a kid in a candy store. His eyes lit up and he struggled to steady his speech through his excitement.
On Christmas Eve, Sarah was unable to meet the professor as she had to attend the wedding of her best friend. She couldn't wait to get out of that wedding hall and get home to change her clothes. She was so used to sweats that wearing this dress made her feel like she wasn't herself. Her curly red hair was pulled up into a bun instead of in the usual braid that whipped around her hips. And make-up, that horrible stuff that had to have been invented by a man. She had given up on the idea of panty hose long before she had left her house and couldn't get them on.
On her way home, it had begun to snow and so she chose a more popular route over her usual back roads. This route took her right past the college and out of the corner of her eye, she saw the lights on in the library. She knew it had to be the professor, but why would he be working on Christmas Eve? She parked her car in the deserted student lot and walked through the snow to the entrance of the library. She knocked on the door. The professor appeared on the other side of the glass and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her. Sarah tried to mime that it was cold outside and Dr. Peterson quickly unlocked the door to let her in, never taking his eyes off of her.
"What are you doing here so late, Professor?" she asked.
"I found a different study," he answered and in the same breath, "You look... different."
"Don't get used to it," she joked, now extremely self-conscious without her baggy sweats. "You found a new study? I can't wait to see!"
