The Islanders

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The Islanders Page 6

by Mary Alice Monroe


  “Sweetheart…” She paused. “Your dad’s not doing very well. But he’s a fighter. And he’s in a fight… for his life.”

  My mouth went dry. “Is he…” I swallowed hard. “Is he going to die?”

  “We hope not,” she replied. “Try to understand. It’s like his body is fighting a war. So far, he’s won a lot of battles. We’re real proud of him. But he’s lost some too.” She paused and took a shaky breath. “He had surgery this morning.”

  “Is he okay?”

  “Yes. He’s out now. But… the doctors couldn’t save his leg.”

  I tried to make sense of what this meant. “What happened to it?”

  “It was badly damaged in the accident. The doctors couldn’t save it.” She paused again. “They had to remove it.”

  My mind went blank. I couldn’t picture it. “What do you mean? They cut off his leg?”

  “Yes. He lost that battle, but it will help him win the war. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  My throat was closing as I fought off tears.

  “Jake? Are you there?”

  “Yes,” I croaked out.

  “You have to remember that your dad is still your dad. Losing a leg doesn’t change who he is. And he’s going to get better. That’s what’s most important. So I’m going to stay with him longer. He needs me.”

  I wanted to say I need you too. But I knew she was right. She had to stay with Dad now.

  “Okay.”

  “I’ll call you again when I have more news. I know it will be better news. So please try not to worry. Your dad’s going to be okay. He loves you. And I love you too. Very much.”

  I handed Honey the phone and walked out of her room to one of the large windows. I stood staring out, but I didn’t see the trees or the sea. I was trying to imagine my dad without a leg.

  “Jake?” Honey put her hand on my shoulder. “Want to talk?” I shook my head. I couldn’t talk. I just ran from her room and escaped to my loft.

  I stayed in my room the rest of the day and into the evening. I didn’t come down when Honey asked if I wanted dinner. I tried again to imagine my dad without a leg… but I couldn’t.… I couldn’t even imagine him in a wheelchair. Dad was good at sports. He liked to run. Why did this have to happen to him?

  I looked over at the bookshelf and all the special things he’d collected when he was younger. My dad was a guy who loved adventures. What must he be feeling right now? I wondered. He must be really scared. Mom said he was in a fight for his life.

  I also couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like having a dad without a leg. How would it be different? Would he still play sports with me? Take me on hikes or ride bikes?

  Would he still be my dad?

  I fell onto the bed and buried my face in my pillow.

  Night fell. I ran out of tears. Still feeling dejected, I went to the shelf to pick up my dad’s journal. The old leather felt soft in my hands. Inside, on yellowed pages, I traced the letters of his name with my fingers. His handwriting was small and easy to read. His words were as close as I could get to my dad now.

  Each entry was dated. I looked for today’s date.

  June 22, 1989

  I broke my arm. Worst pain ever. My summer is ruined. No pool. No ocean. No fishing. No fun!!!

  Mama said to look on the bright side of things. She said I should make a list of good things. So here goes.

  My friends can write on my cast.

  It’s not the arm I use for writing and eating.

  At least I fell out of the tree after we finished the best hideout ever.

  Maybe I’ll get out of chores (doubt it).

  I have a lot of time to read.

  Okay. Mama was right (maybe). I do feel better (a little).

  I cracked a smile. Dad was always so positive. He never told me he’d broken his arm. I looked at the date to figure out my dad’s age at the time he wrote this. I knew he was born in 1978, so he would have been eleven years old. My exact age.

  I shot up from the bed to grab my journal and pen from my backpack and took a seat at the small wooden desk. I tore out another page of my journal.

  June 22, 2019

  Dear Dad,

  Mom just told me the news. I’m sorry you lost your leg. This must seem like the worst thing ever.

  I read in your journal that you broke your arm when you were my age. You got better! So think: Even though you lost a leg, you’ll get better again. You always do!

  I wish I could be with you at the hospital. I miss you so much. This might sound strange, but reading your journal makes me feel close to you, even though you’re hundreds of miles away.

  Don’t worry about me. Honey and I are fine here. I love you, Dad. And remember to look on the bright side of things!

  Love, your son,

  Jake

  CHAPTER 9

  The Disappointment

  You’ve got to believe.

  THE SONGS OF CHATTY BIRDS and the bright sunlight woke me up.

  I rubbed my eyes and yawned. And then I remembered the news about my dad. My sunny day turned dark.

  I washed, got dressed, and grabbed my backpack. I tossed in my notebook, Dad’s journal, my water bottle, and sunglasses. I pulled on my Army ball cap.

  Downstairs, the house looked quiet. No lights were on in the kitchen. I sighed, thinking Honey was back to being sad. I walked across the living room to her room. I knocked.

  “Come in.”

  Honey was still in bed and her eyes were puffy. A pile of crumpled tissues sat on her nightstand.

  “Good morning, darling,” she said in a shaky voice.

  I didn’t smile back. I was hungry and feeling sad myself.

  “I need to mail something.” I lifted a white sealed envelope.

  “What’s this?”

  “A letter for Dad. All I need is the address. And a stamp.”

  “Oh. Okay. What a good idea,” Honey said with a nod of approval. She reached out for the envelope with one hand, and with the other slid on black-framed glasses. Honey tilted her chin sideways to inspect the envelope. She pulled out an old ratty-looking address book from her bedside drawer and handed it to me. “You’ll find the address of your father’s hospital in there on that piece of paper on top. And wait a minute…” She pulled out two stamps from the drawer.

  “Here, take these. Feels a bit heavy. Best to add another stamp. You don’t want it returned, do you? Then go to the community mailboxes. You’ll see a box for off-island mail.”

  I turned to go.

  “Jake!” she called after me. “Don’t you want some breakfast?”

  “There’s no milk.” My voice was flat.

  “Yes, I saw that it’s gone. I’ve ordered some from town. It should be here today. With more bread, that peanut butter you like, and a few other supplies too.”

  “Okay.” Good, I thought.

  “There’s cereal. If you can eat it dry.”

  I grimaced at the memory of the tiny bugs I had found in an old, stale cereal box. I’d have better luck trying to find wild berries in the woods like Sam in My Side of the Mountain.

  “I’ll eat when I get back. I’m going to do my chores and then meet up with Lovie and Macon at the dock.” I headed toward the door.

  She hollered after me, “Child, how do you survive off the meager amount of food I see you eat?”

  I wondered the same about her.

  I met up with Lovie and Macon at the Dewees Island main dock. They were talking to a tall man with red hair and a trimmed beard.

  He turned toward me when I walked close. “Well, hey there. You’re Jake Potter, right?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “My name’s Randall Piper. I’m the fire chief on the island. Everyone calls me Chief Rand.”

  “Yes, sir… I mean, yes, Mr. Chief Rand.”

  I heard Lovie giggle beside me.

  “I knew your dad back when we were kids. We were best friends.”

  I looked at him care
fully. “You’re the kid with red hair in his photograph? Hanging on a tree trunk?”

  “That’d be me,” he replied with a laugh. “Best tree climber this island’s ever seen.”

  When he smiled, I recognized the boy in the picture. “You’re Red?”

  He tossed back his head and laughed again. “Haven’t heard that in a while. Only your dad called me that. How’s he doing? Any news?”

  His question felt like a sucker punch. I stuck my hands in my pockets and looked at my feet. “My mom says he’s got a long recovery. He, uh, he…” I sucked in my breath. “He lost his leg.”

  “No,” Chief Rand whispered. “Dang. That’s a lot to take in. I’m so sorry, Jake.” He closed his eyes and went silent for a moment. Then after a forced exhale, “Here’s one thing I know for sure. Your daddy’s got a fighter’s spirit. He doesn’t know the word ‘quit.’ ”

  “No, sir.”

  He gave me a gentle squeeze on the shoulder. “He’s alive, and that’s what we have to remember. This is tough, but he’ll pull through this, Jake. Strong as ever. Nothing ever stops Eric Potter.” Rand gave me a slap on the back. “You’ve got to believe in that. Believe it, for him.”

  I nodded, then turned my head. I didn’t want him to see the tears in my eyes. I slipped off my backpack and reached inside to get the envelope. I held it in my hand, feeling its weight. Inside was my letter and a page of my drawings. For you, Dad, I thought. I dropped it into the mailbox.

  “A letter to your dad?” Chief Rand asked.

  “Yes, Chief Rand, sir.”

  “I’m sure hearing from you will do him a lot of good.”

  I tugged my ball cap down over my eyes. “Thanks. I’ve got to go.” I turned and began walking away from the dock.

  Lovie and Macon walked by my side in silence all the way back to my cart.

  “Hey, I’m sorry, bro.” Macon laid his arm over my shoulder.

  “I’m sure he’ll be okay,” Lovie said, then surprised me with a hug.

  My arms froze at my sides when her arms wrapped around me.

  Lovie quickly let go and toyed with her silver sea-turtle necklace.

  We all stood there in another awkward moment of silence.

  “What should we do today?” Macon asked.

  I shrugged. “I don’t care.”

  “Want to go to the beach?” asked Lovie. “It’s low tide, so we could check out the tide pools. See what kinds of creatures we find in them.”

  I shook my head and wiped beads of sweat off my brow. “It’s too hot.” I knew I sounded like a grump, but I felt like one.

  “Why don’t we go chill at my house?” Macon asked. “Want to play some video games?”

  I thought of Honey telling me that video games were not allowed, but that was at her house, not Macon’s house. Besides, she didn’t seem to care. And today, I didn’t care either. I just wanted to get out of the sun and get my mind off my dad.

  “Sure,” I said with a shrug. “Why not?”

  We all hopped into our carts. The black plastic steering wheel felt hot to the touch. Macon led the way to his house. When we pulled into his driveway, my eyes widened at the sight of his house. It was big—much bigger than Honey’s. In fact, it was two houses connected by a covered porch. I parked in the shade and walked over to where Macon and Lovie waited.

  “Who lives with you?” I asked Macon.

  “What do you mean? My mom and dad and me.”

  “But you have two houses.”

  He looked over his shoulder and saw what I was pointing at. He laughed. “Nah, man. That’s the guest house. Mom says someday the nanny can sleep in there.”

  “The nanny?”

  “You know, the babysitter. For the new baby.”

  I shook my head again. “You must be rich.”

  Macon shrugged. “I guess. I don’t know. There’s a lot of folks richer.”

  There’s a lot of folks poorer, I thought, but didn’t say it out loud. Lovie met my gaze and we both smirked. Yeah, Macon was rich.

  Macon knocked his elbow against mine. “I’m starving. I know Mom just went grocery shopping. Let’s grab some lunch.”

  With those words, my stomach growled. I was all in.

  Macon’s house was a mansion hidden in the forest. Inside, everything was open with white marble countertops and shiny wooden floors. And it was clean. Nothing was out of place. It even smelled good, like warm laundry.

  I was instantly jealous of Macon’s house. It made me sad to think how dirty Honey’s house was. She’d been trying to clean up some, and I was helping. But this morning she went back to her old ways.

  Macon opened an enormous stainless steel refrigerator. I could only stare in awe as he opened it. Inside, it was sparkling clean. The shelves were stocked full of fruit I could recognize and not all shriveled, cartons of milk, orange juice, and cups of yogurt with the labels neatly facing outward, just like at the grocery store.

  Macon pulled out a big container of lunch meat and cheese slices. I stepped closer and eyed it carefully as he opened it. All the cheese was fresh. Not any mold in sight. I picked up the container of meat and began sniffing.

  “What are you doing?” Macon asked, a little offended.

  “Sorry. Habit, I guess.”

  Macon gave me a funny look as he put grapes, carrot sticks, and a carton of chocolate milk on the counter. Then he slid plates and cups to us.

  My stomach rumbled so loud Lovie turned her head toward me with raised eyebrows.

  “Someone’s hungry,” she said with a laugh.

  If she only knew, I thought. I loaded up my plate with piles of everything. I bit into my sandwich, my eyes closed. Everything tasted so good I thought I’d gone to heaven. I tore into that sandwich.

  “Jake, you act like you’re never going to eat again!” Lovie said.

  I poured a glass full of chocolate milk and only shrugged.

  I made a second sandwich, then Lovie and I carried our plates and followed Macon to the family room. Like the rest of the house, this room was big. I could fit three of my lofts into it. Not that I’d trade my loft for any room in the world.

  I plopped onto one of his beanbag chairs, and Macon handed me a game controller. He turned to Lovie. “Do you want to play?”

  Lovie shook her head no and carried her plate to the sofa.

  Macon sat in the second beanbag chair and turned on the TV.

  “Where’s your mom?” asked Lovie.

  “Mom’s got to spend a lot time in bed,” Macon explained as he set up the game. “She lost two other babies and is being really cautious. That’s why we came here for the summer. It’s quiet. My dad comes down on the weekends. He’s hired a lady to come over and clean and shop and make meals.” Macon’s brows furrowed. “He expects me to watch out for her. She relies on me.”

  “I get that. I’m supposed to take care of Honey,” I said before biting into my enormous sandwich.

  “But,” Macon continued with his mouth full, “now that Mom is getting closer to her due date, he wants to find a nurse, too. Just in case.”

  “My Aunt Sissy is a nurse,” Lovie said, popping a grape into her mouth. “Or, she was. She’s retired now. But she used to deliver babies in the hospital. Maybe she’d like to help. It’d be nice to have the nurse on the island. Just in case.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll tell my mom.”

  Lovie leaped from the sofa, calling over her shoulder, “I’ll write down her phone number for your mother.”

  For the next hour Macon and I chilled playing video games. We asked Lovie to join us, but she said she didn’t play video games. Instead, she paced the room, as restless as an animal in a cage at the zoo. She kept looking at the bookshelves, sighing a lot and loudly.

  Finally, she slammed a book down on the table. “Seriously, guys, how long are we going to sit around doing nothing?”

  Macon and I looked at each other with confusion.

  “This isn’t nothing,” Macon said, holding th
e game controller in his hand.

  “Ooh! You missed it, Macon. Totally scored another point.” My eyes stayed glued to the screen.

  “I’m so bored, y’all!” Lovie complained.

  “We asked you to play the game too. If you would, then you’d be having fun too,” I replied.

  “Take that!” Macon hollered out at the video game.

  Lovie stood right in front of the screen.

  “Hey! You’re in the way,” we both yelled.

  “The fun is out there.” She pointed toward a window. “The island. Not stuck inside.”

  “Said no kid ever.” Macon stood up, trying to get a better view of the television screen. “You’re weird sometimes. Now, could you please move?”

  Lovie rolled her eyes and plopped onto the sofa and started scrolling through her phone. Her last statement echoed in my head, making me feel uneasy. I was supposed to be outside, exploring, as Honey would say. But lounging and playing video games was what I’d been missing.

  “I’m going to go back to my Aunt Sissy’s house,” Lovie announced.

  “Fine,” Macon fired back.

  I shot him a look of disapproval. “Don’t go,” I said to Lovie. “Look, just give us ten more minutes and then we’ll go back out.”

  “Fifteen minutes,” Macon interjected.

  Lovie’s face brightened at the offer. “Ten minutes and it’s a deal.”

  But just one minute later the doorbell rang.

  Macon went to get the door and I grabbed a bag of potato chips. I was putting a handful in my mouth when I froze.

  In walked Honey carrying a white baker’s box wrapped in red ribbon. She stopped, her eyes as wide as two moons, and stared at me.

  CHAPTER 10

  The Long Dinner

  We have each other.

  HONEY STOOD AS STILL AS a statue, but her gaze moved to the television set with the video game playing, to the table overflowing with food, then back to me.

  “Jake,” she said in a shocked voice, “what are you doing inside playing video games? I thought you were outdoors with your journal. I haven’t seen you for hours.”

  I swallowed hard. The chips felt like sand going down my throat.

  Macon’s mother flowed into the room slowly, all smiles, and extended her hand. Her long gown fluttered around her baby belly as she walked.

 

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