As the dusty screen revealed picture after picture of new discoveries from the ship, the man turned the pottery wheel off, paying more attention. A plate was shown, worn from the water and bacteria, then an old clock, set to an exact time, and lastly, a drawing. But wait. He knew that drawing. Sometimes saw it in his dreams, though it was a very vague memory.

He stood up slowly, grabbing his cane and walking closer to the television. He covered a slightly shaky hand in front of his mouth. It couldn't be.

The charcoal drawing was of a young man lying across a couch. He was completely naked, wearing only a necklace shaped as a heart, and the old man caught his breath sharply in surprise. Even though the water had slowly started to cause the paper to disintegrate, the drawing itself was barely flawed, chalk lines still perfect.

"Grandpa?" The man's granddaughter questioned from the other room. He ignored her, frozen in shock. "What's wrong?"

"Excavation leader…have been unsuccessful in finding the heart of the ocean, one of the rarest treasures ever to exist… " The man responsible for the investigation was now onscreen, talking about how unusual the drawing was, and if anybody knew any facts, to call right away. The picture now appeared again, and now that he was even closer to it, he was absolutely positive he was right. He really never doubted himself in the first place, he would never forget it.

"I'll be goddamed. Lizzie, get me the phone please. I need to make a call."

"Brock!" One of the crewmen was running quickly towards him. He really didn't have time for this; he was already crushed at not being able to find the heart, right now he just wanted the solitude of his bunk. "You have a phone call."

"I'll take it later," he replied glumly.

"I really think you want to take this call." He handed him the phone, looking at him expectantly.

Rolling his eyes, Brock took the phone and pressed it to his ear. "Hello?"

A man's voice sounded over the phone, "Hello, I was wondering if you happened to find the heart yet?"

Confused, he glanced to the other crewmember and he shrugged. "I told you."

"All right, you have my attention Mr…"

"Anderson, Kurt Anderson," the voice replied.

"You have my attention Kurt. Would you like to tell us who the young man in that picture is?" He held his breath.

"Oh yes," Kurt replied with a sad, distant smile. "The man in the picture, well it's me."