by John Shors
Breaking out in a sweat, Ratu hurried from the fire pit, anxiously following Jake’s deep footprints down the beach. He needed to talk to his friend, and with each passing step he felt this urgency increase. By the time he reached Jake, Ratu’s face was streaked with tears.
“Big Jake!” he sobbed, running into the engineer’s arms.
Jake dropped his spear and the three fish he’d caught. “What? What ain’t right?”
Ratu clung to Jake as if only he could pull him from a swirling sea, could stop him from drowning. “I’m scared . . . so bloody scared for my father,” Ratu stammered. “I want to see him. What if he’s tied to a tree with no one to protect him? What . . . what if he’s hurt?”
Stroking Ratu’s cheek, Jake held him tight. Ratu shuddered against him. For not the first time, Jake realized how slender and small and young Ratu was. “How many sharks has your daddy killed?” Jake asked, his cigarlike fingers still moving against Ratu’s tear-stained face.
“I don’t . . . I don’t know. Why?”
“How about a guess?”
“Fifteen or . . . maybe twenty.”
“Twenty sharks,” Jake replied, shaking his head as if in wonder. “You reckon a man who’s killed twenty sharks is gonna go and get himself captured? Get himself captured when he’s got such a fine boy to go home to? No, sir. I don’t expect that such a shark killer has much to worry about. You’d sooner see a fish drown.”
“But his eyes aren’t good and . . . and he’s not as strong as I told you. He couldn’t really throw his spear across the harbor. He couldn’t—”
“Shhh,” Jake said, trying to calm Ratu. “It’ll rattle right. You’ll see. No shark killer is gonna get himself captured or shot.”
“But what . . . what if he doesn’t come home? What will happen to my mother? My little sisters?” Before Jake could answer, Ratu continued miserably, “They’re not strong, I tell you. They get scared at night. I should never have left them. Oh, why . . . why did I ever leave them?”
“You’ll be with them real soon.”
Ratu shook his head, a trail of mucus stretching from his nose to Jake’s shoulder. “You can’t . . . you can’t promise that, Big Jake.”
Jake wiped the tears from Ratu’s face. “Well, I can promise you that we’ve both got bones in our backs and we’ll escape this darn island. You’ll be home before the crickets cry.”
“And my father?”
“Why, the war’s almost over.”
“It is?”
“Well, them Japs ain’t gonna quit. And they’ll ride their horse until they get knocked off. But they’ll eat dirt soon enough. Their horse is plumb dead already. They just don’t know it.”
Ratu nodded, leaning into his friend. “I’m just so bloody afraid. I don’t want anyone else to die.”
Jake continued to stroke Ratu’s face. He’d never held a child in such a manner, and found that he’d be happy to embrace Ratu for as long as he needed him. “You should fetch each one of them sisters something,” Jake finally said. “Something from your adventure.”
“Like what?”
“What do they like? What makes them smile?”
Sniffing, Ratu thought about his siblings. “Sometimes . . . sometimes I bring them seashells.”
“Then let’s gather up some seashells. The prettiest seashells on the island.”
“And I collect . . . I’ve found fourteen heart-shaped stones for my mother.”
“Then let’s get her a fifteenth.”
Ratu nodded. “And my father? I could bring him a shark’s tooth. That would be wonderful, Big Jake. Oh, Big Jake, would you help me get a shark’s tooth?”
“Just tell me how to do it. I’m a farmer, remember?”
Wiping his tears away, Ratu replied, “I taught you how to fish, didn’t I?”
“I reckon so.”
“Well, I tell you, if I can teach you how to fish, then I can teach you how to spear a shark. It’s really no different.”
“Except that sharks have teeth. Lots of them. And I don’t fancy—”
“Sharks are dumb. Probably as dumb as the pigs you’re used to. You shouldn’t have any problems.”
“Pigs ain’t able to eat people. You forget that little-known fact?”
“I forgot what a baby you could be.”
Jake smiled, pulling Ratu closer to him. “It’s good to see the old you.”
“I’m not old, Big Jake.”
Chuckling, Jake ruffled Ratu’s hair. “I have an idea. Care to hear it?”
Ratu wiped his face. “You’re a good mate, Big Jake. A cracking good mate. Sure, what’s your idea?”
“The way I see it, these last two days have been real hard on everyone. As hard as hail on crops. And I reckon we should do something about it.”
“What should we do?”
“Fish. Fish like your daddy taught you. Let’s catch tuna and crab and lobster. And one of them big, ugly fish that tastes like chicken. We’ll cook it all tonight. And then people will fill their bellies and something real fine will have happened today.”
Ratu rose from his friend’s lap. “Let’s keep it a secret. Let’s surprise everyone.”
“A secret it is,” Jake replied, handing Ratu a spear. “And if a shark happens to amble our way, well, then, we’ll just make a meal of him too.”
ONCE THE FUNERAL pyre had quieted, Joshua asked Akira to return to camp. The captain had said that he was going to spend the day looking for a cave, that he wasn’t going to return until he found them a hiding place. He’d told Akira to stay clear of Roger and had thanked him for helping with the airman.
As the fire had burned, Joshua came to the realization that it was up to him to find a hiding place. He’d asked Roger to do it, but the man, despite his obvious talents, had found nothing. Nathan was incapable of such tasks, and Jake, though capable, was providing most of their food. The women could search, of course, but Joshua didn’t like the thought of them in the jungle, as it was an unforgiving place and posed all sorts of dangers.
The air battle had reminded Joshua that the war was coming to them, that they’d need a secret refuge. If his wife and unborn child were to live, it was up to him to protect them, to ensure that their beauty could not be stolen from the world. And so he hurried through the underbrush, determined to make it to the other side of the island. Perhaps Ratu was right. Perhaps along the far shore a cave would exist.
Thorns tore at his flesh and birds protested his passing. He moved with haste, wanting to cover as much territory as possible before the day was done. Whenever he grew tired, he thought of his child, and pressed forward with renewed strength. He imagined Isabelle running into the jungle and having nowhere to hide when the Japanese came. Troops would pour onto the island, and though his group might be able to disappear for a few hours, or even a day, they’d ultimately be discovered. And at that point anything was possible. They could be treated well or he could be shot and Isabelle ravaged. The thought of her helpless in the hands of cruel men profoundly motivated him, and he saw more of the island than he ever had. He climbed rises and crossed streams and moved so fast that mosquitoes couldn’t keep up.
Joshua debated the pros and cons of the possible hiding spots that he discovered. Piles of boulders were pondered. Dense vegetation inspected from every angle. Within a particularly thick part of the jungle, a trio of large trees had fallen against one another. Saplings had emerged around the larger trees, and the result was an almost tepeelike structure that could hide a handful of people. Though the shelter wasn’t what he sought, he’d used the airman’s compass to get a feel for the location.
His shirt and shorts and even shoes damp with sweat, Joshua continued on. As midday approached, he finally reached the other side of the island. Though a long beach was present, no harbor existed, and the waves were much larger here. Piles of driftwood lined the beach. He noticed some cliffs to the north and, eating a breadfruit, headed toward them. As he walked, he scrutinized the beach f
or valuable items. After all, untold ships navigated these waters, and anything could have washed ashore.
Though the beach contained mostly driftwood, shells, bloated jellyfish, and rotting seaweed, he discovered a few things fashioned in distant worlds—wooden fishing buoys, a small bottle with Japanese or Chinese markings, and an empty crate. He pocketed the bottle and kept walking.
Not far ahead, Joshua noticed a large number of gulls circling and dropping to the beach. He quickened his pace and was surprised to see that the gulls were feasting on small, slow crabs that emerged from a hole in the sand. After a few more steps, he realized that the gulls weren’t eating crabs, but baby sea turtles. Instinctively, he hurried toward the nest, waving his arms in an effort to scare the birds away. A dozen half-eaten turtles lay beyond the nest. Several scores of hatchlings were in the process of breaking free from their eggs or methodically crawling toward the surf. Joshua scooped up as many of the babies as possible and, with gulls darting about him, ran toward the sea. He waited for a wave to recede and dropped the turtles into the water.
Numerous gulls had returned to the nest, and Joshua ran at them as fast as possible. He yelled, waving his arms. The gulls shrieked, rising to circle above the nest. All of the eggs had either been destroyed by the gulls or had hatched. At least another twenty turtles scurried toward the sea. Joshua held his shirt out before him, using it like a bag in which to collect the remaining hatchlings. This time he walked deeper into the water, and when he sat in the sea, he watched the babies swim away. They immediately headed toward darker water, and he couldn’t help but wonder how many finned predators awaited them. One turtle, which had lost part of a flipper to a gull, struggled to make headway. Joshua picked it up and waded into the surf. Once he was up to his chest, he gently placed the turtle into the water and watched it swim into the mysterious beyond.
After he returned to shore and ensured that no other turtles remained, Joshua continued to walk toward the cliffs. His encounter with the hatchlings reminded him of his unborn child. He and Isabelle had been trying to conceive for several years, and after failing to do so, a part of him had sadly concluded that he’d never be a father. Over the past year, as the war and his responsibilities increasingly weighed upon him, he’d thought less and less about fatherhood. In fact, once he’d been given control of Benevolence, such musings had almost completely disappeared. To make matters worse, even after he managed to get Isabelle assigned to his ship, he’d hardly seen her. They’d both worked endless hours, and the work that might have bonded them actually served to push them apart. He had his responsibilities and so did she. Little time existed for anything else.
As Joshua walked in his wet clothes toward the cliffs, he realized that Isabelle’s pregnancy had prompted him to think more of her in the past few days than he had in the past few months. Without question, he felt closer to her than he had in a long time. And even though she was strong and sure and capable, he knew that she needed his encouragement more than ever. He’d sensed this need over the past several days. Being who she was, Isabelle tried to hide this want, but he wasn’t fooled. She’d tended to others for years, and for the moment, a part of her wanted to be looked after.
While pleased that their child had already brought them closer together, Joshua worried about how he’d fare as a father. He owned more than his share of demons and disappointments, and how could he be a good father, a good teacher, when he’d failed at the most important mission ever given to him?
He was soon at the cliffs, which were set back thirty or forty feet from the water. The beach before the cliffs was littered with rocks of all sizes. The sea pounded against the land here, spray erupting into the sky. With care, Joshua circumvented tide pools and barnacle-encrusted rocks. Parts of the cliffs had fallen, and he looked into piles of massive boulders, seeking hiding places.
Joshua hadn’t walked more than a few hundred paces in front of the cliffs when, to his utter amazement, he found what he was looking for. Between a break in the cliffs, where the land opened up and the jungle managed to creep forward, an overhang of rock seemed to obscure a hollow or a cave. His heartbeat quickening, he hurried forward. His feet fell upon rocks, then sand, then the tentacles of vines and plants that crept forward from the jungle.
At one point waves must have crashed against this spot, for what had once been a cliff had collapsed. And at the bottom of that cliff was a cave, a hollow that had been carved into the stone by the assault of billions of waves over thousands of years. Joshua rushed into the cave, which was shoulder high at its entrance, but at least twenty feet tall inside. The cave was as big as a small house. Sand comprised its floor, and in one corner, the sand sloped into a bus-sized body of water. “Please, dear Lord,” Joshua whispered, rushing toward the pool. He knelt in the sand, cupped his hand into the water, drew some into his mouth, and whooped in joy when he knew that it was fresh and pure.
With the thrill of a child stepping onto a Ferris wheel, Joshua explored the cave. Aside from the body of water, it seemed dry. The sand was deep and soft. Coolness prevailed. The light cast through the opening was enough to at least partially illuminate the entire area.
Joshua looked up, overwhelmed with relief. “Thank you, Lord,” he said emotionally, not believing his good fortune. “Thank you so very, very much.”
With an endless supply of water and piles of driftwood nearby, enough resources existed here that Joshua thought the cave could support the entire party. His only uncertainly had to do with food. Could Jake and Ratu catch fish here, as they did in the harbor? Hurrying to the cave’s entrance to eye the raging surf, he had his doubts. Deciding that they’d simply have to dry fish caught in the harbor and bring food here, he clapped his hands together. Isabelle would be safe in the cave. Everyone would be safe. Even if a large force of Japanese landed on the island, the cave was so well hidden and far removed from the harbor that it would likely never be discovered. And if the survivors camouflaged its entrance, the cave would be all but invisible.
Twice since Benevolence sank, Joshua had felt hope. The first time was when Isabelle told him that she was pregnant, and the second was now, as he looked into the cave and his dread of discovery lessened into something much more tolerable. Within the cave, they could hide from the war. They could hide and they could hope. And they could think of the future—a future infinitely more alluring than the present.
BACK AT THE HARBOR, Annie had finished collecting coconuts and now sat against a palm tree, watching clouds drift above the sea. A gentle breeze caressed the clouds and her face, keeping the day’s heat at bay. After seven days on the island, Annie realized that such breezes made life bearable. When the wind didn’t stir, the heat often became a living thing—an omnipotent force that could render her almost powerless. She’d never experienced such heat, never known how it felt to breathe air that seemed too hot and heavy to draw into her lungs. Fortunately, most of her days on the island had been accompanied by breezes similar to what touched her now. And in the shade, with such a breeze upon her, the sun seemed more a friend than a foe.
As usual for this time, camp was quiet and barren. Annie looked down the beach to where Akira sat on a rock with his feet in the sea. He had his shirt off and was washing himself. Normally, Annie would have left him in peace, but still feeling guilty about recent events, she decided to seek him out.
The sand was hot against her feet. She quickly headed to the water and then started to move in Akira’s direction. When he glanced up, she waved. His return greeting was pleasant, which was a relief, as she had been afraid that he’d be resentful about his treatment.
Akira sat on a fairly flat rock that rose just above the water’s edge. With his legs dangling off the rock, he’d been in the process of cleaning his feet. Pleased that he was keeping his wound dry, Annie waded through the shallows until she stood near him. Turning toward the shore, away from the glaring sun, she said, “I never got to finish apologizing for what happened.”
“Wit
h the gag, yes?”
“With the gag, the ropes, Roger, and now . . . and now for the death this morning.”
Akira set aside the coconut husk that he’d been scrubbing his toes with. “You did none of these things to me, Annie.” Before she could reply, he added, “So please do not worry about them. Besides, I do not blame your captain for what happened. He did what he should have done.”
“But Roger?”
“Roger does not trouble me. I have met his kind before.”
Annie had never seen Akira shirtless, and was surprised at how muscular his compact torso was. His chest, which was almost free of hair, looked hard and lean. Dropping her gaze to his leg, she said, “Your wound is healing wonderfully.”
“I have a wonderful doctor, yes?”
She smiled. “I’m a nurse, Akira. A nurse.”
“Ah, but better than a doctor, I think.” He politely motioned to an empty spot on the rock beside him. “Would you care to sit?”
Annie nodded, taking his hand as he helped her climb atop the rock. She put her feet into the water and felt the sun against her back. “This morning, why did you go with Joshua?”
“He was going to bury the airman. But he needed to burn him.”
“Is that what . . . what Hindus do?”
“Yes, though I am Buddhist.”
“Oh,” she muttered, putting her hand in front of her mouth as if to keep it from revealing any more of her ignorance. “I’m sorry.”
“Please do not be. We have never spoken of this before.”
She took his coconut husk and began to absently scrub the back of her calf. “Can you tell me something of Buddhism? Enough so that when I meet another Buddhist I don’t sound like a complete fool?”
Akira put his hands in the water and splashed his face. “The sea feels good, yes?”
“It feels perfect.”
He smiled, remembering how it felt to be a young boy and to dangle his feet in the Kamo River. “Buddhists believe that life is reborn. Like a tree that goes through the seasons. Each leaf on the tree is a new life, and each life is reborn with the spring.”