Island of Mystery

Christopher hesitated before descending the steps to the tarmac, uncertain as to what—or who—they might find on this isolated but inhabited island. His parents had sent him to visit his grandparents for summer vacation, and they were known for embarking on unusual adventures, this being the latest. Sometimes Christopher wondered when his grandparents would give up their wild travels and be content to stay at home, reliving their adventures through pictures or videos.

“We’re here,” he announced, to no one in particular. “Now what?”

Grandpa Earl ruffled Christopher’s hair and grinned. “Let’s go find some mystery.”

Christopher raised his eyebrows. “Huh? I thought we were here to sightsee.”

“You could call it that,” his grandmother’s soft voice didn’t match her spirit of fun and adventure. “We plan to visit historical sites to learn more about the stories behind the statues.”

“Statues? We flew all this way to see hunks of rock?” Shaking his head in disbelief, Christopher grabbed Grandma’s carry-on and followed Grandpa into the terminal. He gazed at the low-lying hills in the distance covered with vegetation and wondered how his grandparents had been able to afford this trip.

“Imagine that, two thousand miles from anywhere, on an island with a few people and a lot of statues.”

Grandpa Earl chuckled. “For years scientists presumed there weren’t enough people with the skills or tools to build the statues. So how did the massive icons get here?”

Christopher humored his grandfather. “And why? And who built them?” He glanced around to make sure they still had Grandma Margie in tow.

Oblivious to Christopher’s concerns, Grandpa continued on, assuming Grandma could take care of herself. “They have a few clues: signs of horrendous warfare, a population that dwindled from several thousand to just over one hundred, statutes toppled and in disrepair. Archaeologists have more questions than answers, but now they’re talking with the island’s inhabitants.”