Beside a Burning Sea

by John Shors

  “That’ll work real nice,” Jake said, carefully placing the cuts of tuna on the leaf.

  When he finished, Annie put her hand on his arm. “Thanks, Jake. Thanks for everything you do around here.”

  “Happy to help, miss. Ain’t much else to do anyhow.”

  Annie thanked him again and, holding the leaf like a large platter, moved toward Akira. He’d risen and was stretching his muscles as he leaned against a palm tree. As usual, she instinctively glanced at his wound, which had completely closed up. Deciding that she’d remove the stitches the next day, she showed Akira the fish she’d brought. “You like raw fish, right?” she asked. “Don’t Japanese like raw fish?”

  Akira eyed the sliced tuna. “You did this? For me?”

  “I can put it away if you don’t want it. I didn’t know if—”

  “No, no, no,” he said, bowing to her. He gestured for her to sit, carefully taking the leaf and lowering himself to the sand beside her. “A wonderful treat,” he said. “A wonderful treat that you have prepared for me. Thank you for your kindness.”

  “Is this how you eat it? Just like this?”

  He shook his head. “Usually we have some . . . sauce. But this is nearly the same. This is perfect, in fact.” She smiled and he asked, “Will you taste it with me?”

  “Me?”

  “Only if you care to.” Akira picked up one of the smallest pieces of fish and put it in his mouth. He closed his eyes, chewing slowly and methodically. “What delicious sashimi.”

  “Sashimi?”

  “Yes. When it is so fresh like that, it . . . dissolves into your tongue.”

  Annie glanced at the platter before her. The meat was red and ragged, and the thought of eating it repulsed her. “I’ll try . . . one bite,” she said, selecting a sliver of fish. Before she could stop herself, she closed her eyes and set the meat in her mouth. At first she noticed the coolness of the fish, which felt surprisingly refreshing. She then bit, and though she didn’t like the texture of the meat, the taste was pleasant enough and she ate the entire piece. “Not bad,” she said, smiling. “Not bad at all.”

  He grinned. “Yesterday you swam with dolphins. Today you are eating sashimi. What will tomorrow bring?”

  “It’s your turn to do something brave tomorrow. I think I’ve done enough.”

  Akira took another piece of fish. “Yes, yes, I sincerely agree.”

  Annie watched him eat, noting how refined his movements were. How differently Akira and Ted approach eating, she thought. While Ted seemed to attack his food, Akira appeared to savor and almost study the fish. “Can I ask you something?” she said softly, the comparison of the two men prompting her curiosity.

  “Of course.”

  “It’s kind of silly. Rather childish, actually.”

  “I think that today I have time for one silly question.”

  She smiled nervously, her gaze darting from him to the sea to a bug bite on her arm. “Do you really think . . . think that I’m like that little tree?”

  “I think—”

  “I just don’t know if it’s realistic for a man to pay that much attention to a woman. Or for that matter, for a woman to pay that much attention to a man. Who has time for such things?”

  Akira looked out over the water. “I do not know what is realistic,” he finally said. “But I do know what is possible. And is it possible for a man to pay such attention to a woman? Yes, I think so.”

  Annie’s thoughts drifted back to Ted, and she wondered if he’d ever see her as the gardener had seen the tree. What would he do with her once they were reunited? “But anything is possible,” she replied. “That doesn’t make it probable.”

  “This morning,” he said, setting a piece of tuna aside, “I found something.”

  “What?”

  He pointed to her feet. “Beneath you. Please look beneath you.”

  She dug into the sand at her feet. Almost immediately, she uncovered a snail’s shell, which was sculpted and blue and highlighted with white borders—almost as if the sky had somehow been painted onto the shell. “It’s beautiful,” she said.

  Akira wanted to tell her how his discovery made him think of her, of how he had written a haiku about her after he’d found it. But she was engaged and American, and the impossibility of their union weighed so heavily upon him that he simply said, “I would be honored . . . if you would keep it.”

  Annie sensed that he wanted to say more. She was unsure, however, if she wanted him to. “Thank you,” she said, continuing to hold the shell. “It’s quite lovely.”

  He smiled, aware that he’d thought of little but her for the past three days. “The fish is delicious, yes?” he asked, picking up another piece.

  “It’s certainly simple to prepare,” she replied, smiling. “Beats cooking all day over a hot stove.”

  “Simple is good.”

  Though a part of her wanted to leave, another part longed to know where his mind lay. Her heart beating quicker, she licked her salty lips and found his eyes. “What were you thinking about?” she asked, surprised by her brazenness and unsure what to think of it.

  “When?”

  “When I was . . . holding the shell. After you gave it to me.”

  Akira looked at the shell, which she held in her cupped hand. “The shell,” he said quietly, uncertain what he should tell her, “reminded me of you.”

  “It did?”

  “It made me . . .”

  “What?”

  He started to speak again and stopped. Though he’d always been honest with her, he wasn’t sure if she should know the truth, as he was afraid that it might drive her from him. Nevertheless, despite his fears, he wanted to tell her what so heavily weighed upon his mind, what kept him awake at night long after the moon had risen. And so he took a slow breath and said, “The shell . . . inspired me to write a haiku about you.”

  “A haiku? What does it say?”

  “It is unfinished. I am not . . . content with it yet.”

  “Why not?”

  He sighed, setting the leaf next to him. The words of his poem flashed within him. “Because,” he replied quietly, “to describe . . . the wonder of you with only three short phrases is a most difficult task.”

  Annie drew back, simultaneously thrilled and confused and scared. “I don’t know what to think,” she said, more aware of his gaze as it fell on her than she had ever been.

  He immediately bowed, briefly closing his eyes. “Please forgive me. I should not have told you this.”

  She nodded absently, torn between longing to tell him that she felt the same and needing to be faithful to Ted. She looked at his hands, sensing that he yearned to touch her as much as she yearned to be touched. What would he do to me? she asked herself. How would he touch me, and what words would he share with me?

  “Please forgive my foolishness,” he said, bowing again to her.

  “Don’t . . . please don’t do that,” she replied, her voice and legs unsteady as she rose from the sand.

  “I should not—”

  “No. I put those words in your mouth. I wanted . . . I needed to hear them. And I’m sorry for that.” She wiped her brow, which was suddenly damp with perspiration. “I’m glad you liked . . . the fish,” she said, turning from him, the space between them suddenly too small. He said something to her, but she did not hear it, her mind reeling from conflicting emotions.

  Annie’s feet were heavy and the sun was hot and she couldn’t get to the water fast enough.

  DAY TEN

  Some say love is dead.

  But why do I feel such bliss?

  Frogs shout in the rain.

  A Choice Is Made

  For the first time since Benevolence sank, the sky was rendered mute by clouds. A thick gray blanket hid the sun and tarnished the sea. Diminutive waves marched through the harbor and tossed themselves upon the shore, dying on the sand like soldiers trying to take a trench. The wind seemed restless, pressing on trees and faces from a
variety of angles.

  Stiff from a nearly sleepless night, Akira walked the beach alone, disgusted at himself for shaming Annie into running from him. He’d never said such a thing to a woman, and his words had backfired in exactly the manner that he’d most feared. He had betrayed her just as she was coming to truly know him, and this betrayal tormented him the way a bee sting assails a child.

  Before being stranded on the island, Akira felt that he’d come to know most every emotion. He’d understood want and hope, hate and fear. He’d loved his mother and enjoyed his students. He had longed for nothing more than a simple life. Moreover, he had recognized his place in the world, and at least until Nanking, never sought to fight it.

  But now, as he walked the beach, as he drearily placed one foot before the other, he was thoroughly confused. He didn’t understand how one moment he and Annie had been coming closer together, and the next they’d leapt apart. He couldn’t comprehend that with the utterance of a few words, his joy at her presence had turned to a sorrow at her loss. He’d never so quickly gone from ecstasy to agony, never seen such a beautiful world so rapidly turn gray.

  Akira wanted to make amends with Annie, wanted to tell her that he’d never dishonor her again, that he knew she was engaged and that he had no right to tempt her with words. He’d been weak—so consumed by his own musings and fantasies that he hadn’t thought of her. And that omission besieged him, for he felt that she’d given him the key to her and, instead of hiding that key in a safe place, he’d opened her up, violating her trust.

  Cursing himself in Japanese, Akira kept walking. The wind strengthened against his face, and he thought it apt that the day mirrored his mood. Normally, he liked such days, enjoyed being reminded of his humble place in the world. But today the sky was the shade of tanks and ships and bombs, and no solace existed in such a colorless realm.

  Akira came to the large boulders that marked the swimming hole. After calling out to ensure that no one was bathing, he rounded the rocks. Almost immediately, he noticed a wooden case on the beach. The case, which was made of a highly polished hardwood, had been stranded alongside seaweed and jellyfish by the high tide. Akira walked to it, and was surprised at its heaviness. He opened it. A trickle of water poured out, but the inside was fairly dry and was filled with bottles of pills and white powders, a stethoscope, syringes, needles, sutures, bars of soap, bandages, and a steel scalpel.

  He’d been without a weapon since landing on the island, and so he contemplated the scalpel, picking it up and cutting the hairs of his forearm. The blade was sharp and deadly. Without additional thought, he wrapped a leaf of seaweed about the blade and carefully pocketed the item. Even though he was highly skilled at fighting with his hands and feet, he knew that such a weapon could be the difference between life and death. And with so many uncertainties abounding, he wanted any advantage he could get.

  Closing the case, Akira started back to camp. For the first time all morning he had an excuse to talk with Annie, and was eager to share his discovery with her. Perhaps she’d find some use for the items, and perhaps she’d again look to him as someone she could trust. The wind was at Akira’s back and seemed to propel him toward camp. Soon he approached the familiar banyan tree. Everyone but Jake and Ratu was gathered around a small fire. Joshua was pointing toward the distant ship, and noting, as Akira had earlier, that it was much farther from shore.

  As Akira approached, eyes fell upon his discovery. “I found this case by the rocks,” he said, giving it to Joshua.

  After opening the case, Joshua showed its contents to the nurses. “Any special treasures?” he asked, hoping that the medical kit contained aspirin, as the dropping air pressure had given Isabelle a sinus headache.

  Annie immediately recognized the monogrammed case. “It’s Dr. Burton’s kit,” she said, recalling how meticulous he’d been about his instruments. Everything of his bore his initials and was kept in perfect order. “There’s morphine and penicillin and sulfanilamide and quinine,” she said excitedly. “And his stethoscope and sutures and scalpel and . . .”

  “And what?” Joshua asked.

  “Oh, his scalpel’s gone,” she replied. “But his stethoscope and syringes and dressings are all here. And everything’s in good shape. We’re really quite lucky to have this.”

  “Wonderful. Nicely done, Akira.” Joshua closed the case. “Well, then, getting back to—”

  “Wait,” Roger interrupted, stepping into the circle. “What did you say was missing?”

  “Nothing, really,” Annie said. “His scalpel isn’t here. But we’ve everything else we need. There’s even—”

  “Give it to me,” Roger said, stepping toward Akira. “Give it to me now or I’ll split your monkey skull.”

  “What are you talking about?” Annie asked, closing the case.

  “The scalpel. I want it.”

  “Well, he doesn’t have it,” Annie said. “It’s just not here.”

  “He found the case,” Roger said, bunching his fists, his headache suddenly forgotten. “And if there’s a scalpel missing, I bet it’s that bulge in his pocket.”

  Annie looked to Akira’s pocket. She shook her head. “He . . . he didn’t take it.” When Akira failed to respond, she stepped closer to him. “Please tell me you didn’t take it.”

  Akira wanted to explain that he’d taken the blade to protect her, that he dreaded what would happen if his countrymen landed and found their cave. But he couldn’t reveal his feelings for her in front of the others, and so he reached into his pocket and produced the scalpel.

  Joshua took the instrument. “This shouldn’t have happened,” he said, shaking his head, his jaw tightening. “You had no reason to do this.”

  “Why?” Annie asked, stepping away from him. “Why betray our trust?”

  Roger, who’d been ready to pounce upon Akira, decided that his adversary would suffer more if he wasn’t attacked. And so Roger said, “Because he’s a Jap. And betraying trust is what Japs do best.”

  Annie abruptly walked from the group toward the harbor. Though Akira desperately wanted to follow her, he remained still. Joshua swatted at a sand fly and then looked at the blade. “I don’t know what to do about this. I just don’t.”

  “Make him regret it,” Roger replied, reveling in the moment.

  “How?”

  “Easy enough. Keep his hands bound. Put him on a leash like the dog he is. If he—”

  “Won’t you stop?” Isabelle asked. Though she’d always tried to remain silent when Joshua gave orders, she was furious that her husband was actually listening to Roger. “You have the scalpel and the dagger and the machete and dozens of spears. He’s got nothing but a little limp. What on earth is he going to do to you? What threat does he possibly pose?”

  “He could escape,” Roger countered, hating the nurse, wanting to squeeze her neck until her face turned purple. “Escape and tell all his Nipper friends where our cave is.”

  Isabelle shrugged, as if his words meant nothing to her. “Then tie him up if the Japanese come. But for goodness’ sake, can’t you leave him alone for the time being?”

  “He’ll run,” Roger replied, his headache abruptly assaulting him, his rage like a beast within him that needed to be freed.

  “He won’t—”

  “Ever see a monkey run? They’re fast.”

  “He took a bullet in the leg ten days ago,” she said angrily. “Ever see what a bullet does to a leg?”

  “I’ve—”

  “And he’s no monkey, you lunatic.”

  Roger’s nostrils flared. “You useless—”

  “That’s enough!” Joshua shouted, suddenly aware that he’d thoughtlessly left Isabelle alone in her fight, that he’d waited too long to intervene. “This isn’t a democracy,” he said, glaring at Roger. “We don’t stand around and argue. I’m taking responsibility for him. He’ll do as I say, and if he doesn’t he’ll pay dearly for it. Understood?” When no one responded, Joshua continued, “We�
�re leaving this beach tomorrow. A storm’s coming, and we’ll be much happier in the cave. So let’s get to work.” As Akira started to turn away, Joshua grabbed his arm. “And you and I are taking a walk.”

  Akira nodded, glancing down the beach toward Annie, who sat with her back to them. The sight of her alone assailed him, and it took nearly all his strength to repress his desire to go to her. Stifling the urge to call out to her, he walked in the opposite direction. Joshua quickly caught up to him.

  “You promised me that I could trust you,” Joshua said, his voice sharp and resolute. “And yet the first chance you got, you betrayed that trust.”

  Akira continued to walk, slightly favoring his wounded leg. “You have much to protect, Captain, yes? I do also.”

  “What do you know of protection? Your country only invades. You don’t protect. You destroy and plunder, and you’re no better than the motherless Nazis you call friends.”

  Akira stopped. “I am no Nazi,” he said simply, though he was deeply offended.

  “You think you’re different?” Joshua asked. “They butcher Jews and Poles. You butcher Chinese and Koreans.”

  “I—”

  “Did you know that? Does your precious emperor tell you such things? Did he tell you about the Bataan death march? Where your countrymen forced ten thousand American and Filipino prisoners to walk until many of them died?”

  “I was not there.”

  “Have you heard the rumors about Hitler’s death camps in Poland? About what your noble ally is doing? While you plunder Asia, that . . . that devil moves thousands of Jews by trains to distant camps. The Jews are never seen again. The trains come back empty.” Joshua shook his head, his jaw clenching. “You talk of protection, but you know nothing of protection. The only things Japan protects in this war are its own self-interests.”

  Akira briefly closed his eyes, trying to slow a sudden rage within him. “You know nothing of me.”

  “I know that I trusted you. That I’ve treated you far better than you’d any right to expect.”