Island Fire

by Toby Neal

  “I lost the rudder.” Sam’s sun-pinkened face had gone pale as he wiggled the pole, demonstrating the lack of responsiveness. “I think we’re going to have some trouble aiming for the other shore.”

  Bea swiveled to look at the bulk of Molokai. Dead ahead was a forbiddingly rugged expanse of rocky cliffs, now almost parallel to them.

  “This is not good.” Jaden wound up his line and stowed it. “We could blow right past the island.”

  “What can we do?” Bea felt a chill break out over her body. She didn't know anything about sailing—her beloved “old school” uncle Buzz, who’d taught Sam all he knew, hadn’t taken her out on the ocean at all. Her total boating experience was limited to a whale watch with her school class and ferry rides. Actual time spent on a sailing craft was a big fat zero.

  “We can let the sail out. It’s sleeved onto the mast. We can’t take it off or let it down—but if we just let it out totally and tie it down, we’ll slow down,” Sam said.

  Bea rolled up her hand line, thinking. “Sam, we have that paddle you put on board. Why don’t you try steering with that?” She tucked her hand line away and pulled back the tarp to show the old oar they’d picked up on the beach, along with a splintery canoe paddle, stowed among the backpacks.

  “Good idea.” Sam untied the sail. It flapped dangerously back and forth as he took the oar and plunged it into the water.

  Bea looked worriedly at the water below. The Hobie might be moving slightly slower, but not much, and she didn’t like the way the shoreline seemed to be whizzing by without them getting any closer. She spotted Beosith again, still tracking them, a long, slim, fast-moving dark shape in the water.

  We might be in trouble.

  I know. I’ll help if I need to.

  I’ll let you know when.

  Sam handed Bea the rope attached to the sail cleat. “Can you wrap that around the mast so it doesn’t flap so much? Just the wind running is pushing us along, and if we can just keep going at an angle, we should still be okay.”

  Nick, trying to help, took the other paddle and held it in the water beside Sam. “Like this?”

  “Yeah. If we both do it, it should work better.”

  Bea lashed the sail awkwardly around the mast as Sam dug out the oar and stuck it in the water as deep as he could, directing Nick to do the same. Without any way to attach it, Sam ended up having to sit facing backward with the oar between his knees as he tried to get some turn for the craft.

  Their efforts didn’t seem to be changing the craft’s trajectory much, but at least the boat’s parallel trajectory had slowed down. Bea saw Sam’s thin, wiry arms trembling with effort as he held the oar as deep in the water as he could. Bea wondered how long the boys could keep it up.

  She decided she might as well gut the fish. She put her hand out to Jaden.

  “Your knife.”

  He handed it to her with one hand, tightening the rope holding the sail to the mast. “Do you think it’s working?”

  Bea shook her head. “Not yet.”

  She turned toward the bow of the boat, held down the aku and hacked off its head, tossing it overboard followed by a handful of guts. She did the same to the mahi, and then leaned off the boat to trail her hands in the water, rinsing them off as she watched the water and considered. “It seems like we’re going slower, and we’re kind of heading toward land now. But I can see the end of the island—it looks like we might still shoot past it.”

  “We can’t.” Jaden’s voice was tight. “There’s nothing past Molokai for a thousand miles until Tahiti.”

  Bea looked back down for the reassuring shape of her `aumakua far below—and this time, she saw several small, sleek black forms circling and zigzagging back and forth.

  Sharks.

  And she’d brought them, by throwing fish guts over the side. She’d drawn them right to her `aumakua.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Sam was turned back toward Lanai, the wind in his face and both hands on the oar, legs wrapped around to stabilize it. He found himself praying. Please, God. Please help us get to land. He turned his head to see Bea washing her hands in the water off the side of the craft.

  “No!” she cried suddenly.

  “What?” Jaden, kneeling across from her, peered down into the water. “What’re you looking at?”

  “Sharks,” Bea said. “My fault. Dummy. Why’d I throw the guts in the water?”

  Sam saw Nick recoil, his big hands clutching the paddle. “Sharks?” He craned his neck, looking into the water.

  “Oh, shoots.” Now Sam spotted the sharks, too, and they were moving a lot faster than usual, whipping through the water below them.

  Their craft was moving slow enough for the sleek fish to keep up easily. He spotted black tips and white tips, around six feet long, circling and zigzagging—but more concerning, at least three tiger sharks twice the others’ size cruised by, their barred backs blending with the water. They swam almost lazily, their tails hardly moving, and still effortlessly kept up.

  The sharks’ frenzy seemed to have drawn something bigger—a dark shape at least as large as a pony, but with a long tail and neck, deep in the water below them. There were rumors that great white sharks sometimes came into Hawaiian waters—but this shark’s shape was all wrong.

  Sam’s knuckles went white on the oar. He’d always had a special fear of sharks since a baby hammerhead washed up on the beach and supposedly dead hadn’t been. His browned thumb bore the half-moon scar of his curiosity.

  “It doesn’t matter. We’re safe up here.” Sam fought his instinct to pull the oar out of the water—as if the sharks could somehow reach him through it.

  The water below erupted in a flurry of splashing motion—and Bea screamed, “No!” again, pulling out the three-prong spear from the cache under the tarp and leaning out to stab at the milling sharks.

  She must have hit one, too, because the spear was almost yanked out of her hands. This time she cocked it, twisting the rubber cord around her wrist and taking careful aim.

  “Leave them alone!” Jaden shouted to her. Sam smelled fear on him. “You’re only making it worse!”

  The melee went on, and Sam found himself pressed close to Nick, a worried frown on the older boy’s face as he watched Bea. It appeared this might be true, because the two sharks she’d hit were bleeding, and now their brethren turned on them to attack, leaving the largest one pulling away and swimming out in front.

  The windborne drift of the Hobie moved them past the spot where the sharks continued to frenzy.

  Bea took one last shot and hit another one—but this time, the rubber cord caught on her hand, and the shark on the end of her spear yanked her into the water.

  She was there one second, leaning over the side of the boat, then gone beneath the waves with hardly a splash. She didn’t even scream.

  “No!” Nick yelled. Bea bobbed up behind the boat, and Sam saw something he’d never seen before—his sister’s eyes round with terror. She struck out, swimming after them and causing a disturbing amount of splash.

  “Throw her the ring!” Sam yelled, pointing at the Lucky Lady life preserver near the mast. Jaden grabbed it and threw it with a huge heave. The ring spiraled through the air and splashed down at least six feet from Bea. She swam harder, but the momentum of the Hobie tugged the ring along, bobbing just out of reach.

  Even with the sail down, the craft was moving faster than Bea could swim. Behind her seal-dark head, Sam saw fins leaving the fray and heading in her direction.

  “Swim, Bea! Swim hard!” Sam screamed, but even as his sister swam faster and harder than he’d ever seen, Sam knew it wasn’t going to be enough.

  Jaden flipped open his jackknife and moved aft, preparing to dive in as Sam and Nick paddled backward with the oar, trying to slow the Hobie.

  Bea felt an almost superhuman effort take over as adrenaline pumped through her system and she swam after the boat. Speed was the only thing that could save her now. The ring
was just ahead, a blur of orange. A blur that still wouldn’t save her, she thought, even as she felt something hit her leg. It was just an experimental bump, but she knew the rasp of the shark’s sandpapery hide had frayed off her bare skin.

  Everything slowed down. The world narrowed to nothing but the orange ring she was striving for. Clear, warm water was all around her, stinging her eyes—and she was in utter danger. The water around her suddenly boiled with activity, and Bea shut her eyes, still swimming but not wanting to see what came next.

  It would be bad enough to feel it.

  But this time the force that hit her was from below, and it lifted her straight up above the surface of the water, propelling her forward.

  Grab on.

  Beosith! She wrapped herself around the water dragon’s slippery body, and his tail lashed, tossing their pursuers away. His legs churned like a powerboat, heaving her forward until she grabbed the orange ring. She could feel the motion all around her in the water as Beosith drove off the sharks.

  Jaden and Nick, red-faced with effort, hauled her into the boat. Nick grabbed her under the arms and heaved her aboard, falling backward as he did so that she landed right on top of him.

  Bea shut her eyes, gasping with exhaustion and relief to be safe. She felt Nick’s arms still tight around her, their slippery, wet bodies clasped together, and she was in no hurry to change the situation. Being hugged had never felt so good.

  “Bea, your leg is bleeding!” Jaden’s voice was thick with alarm. Bea turned her head to look down at her calf, aware of a burning sensation. The skin was abraded and blood oozed from a fist-sized area. Nick had sat up with her, and he frowned. “Any other injuries?”

  Jaden ripped off his none-too-clean T-shirt and put it over her leg.

  “No. Thanks. I’m fine.” She checked her extremities to be sure, and relief made her voice squeaky. Thank you, Beosith. I owe you my life.

  That’s what I’m here for—I’m your `aumakua. She thought she heard a familiar teasing note in the mo’o’s voice in her inner ear, and though she couldn’t see him, she sensed Beosith tracking them into the shallower water.

  They’d left the sharks behind at last.

  Sam crawled across the netting and hugged her. “I’m glad the sharks didn’t get you, sis.”

  Bea grinned, gave him a kiss on the forehead. “Me too.” She looked up toward shore, her whole body shaking with the adrenaline aftermath. Somehow they’d made it into Molokai’s wind shadow, and the Hobie was still headed generally toward shore and moving much slower.

  “It seems like we can get there now. Why don’t we paddle the rest of the way?” Nick handed Jaden Sam’s abandoned oar as Sam unspooled the sail and let it inflate.

  “Let the wind help us, too.”

  Bea moved to sit beside Sam as he controlled the sail while the boys used the oar and paddle. The wind still swiped at them in occasional gusts, and they’d plunge the paddles into the water to try to keep the cat pointed toward shore.

  Sheer effort and a little wind power pushed them into a small, shallow bay, sand-bottomed and sheltered from the wind. Kiawe trees ringed the beach, and a red dirt road led up and away into the trees, toward civilization—or whatever was left of it.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Sam finished packing up his backpack in the cool of morning and realized he didn’t have any shoes but the tabis. Soaked with seawater, they weren’t the best to walk in. He took them off, inspecting his pruny feet and looking ahead at the road for kiawe thorns. The hardy scrub trees dropped brittle, thorn-covered twigs all around their radius—but the road, rutted and unpaved as it was, looked pretty clear. Up ahead, Jaden and Bea were already walking in the rubber slippers they must have remembered to pack, but Nick was still wearing his battered sneakers and jeans. He’d draped his shirt over a sunburned shoulder.

  They’d rested in the shade of the trees all through the afternoon of that first day. They’d made a fire and roasted the fish, and Sam’s belly was tight with all the fresh mahimahi he could eat. The aku they’d had raw, sliced thin with a little rock salt and limu from the rocks, mouthwateringly delicious, and a revelation to Nick. Sam thought it was especially tasty when eaten off the blade of his knife, which had mysteriously reappeared in his pocket. Mama had always forbidden him to use a knife to eat, but he was old enough to build and sail a boat, and he was old enough to eat off his knife without cutting himself.

  They’d gone to sleep when the sun went down, worn out from the day and snuggled in their sleeping bags in the sand. Now Sam trudged barefoot, carrying his tabis, behind Bea, Nick, and Jaden down the rutted, red dirt road.

  This remote fishing area was miles from Kaunakakai, the capital of Molokai, itself just a small town but several times the size of Lanai City. It was several miles farther still to their aunt and uncle’s ranch in a verdant valley outside of town. Acres of kiawe trees and tall grass rustled around them in the morning light, seeming alive with whispers.

  Sam pondered the miracle of Bea’s rescue. There was something strange about how she’d been struggling to swim fast enough, and then it seemed like one of the sharks had risen from below and thrust her forward so she could grab the ring.

  When he’d asked her about it, she’d said, “I was freaking out so bad, and there was so much going on in the water. I have no idea.” Jaden and Nick had also been frowning, but it seemed there was no further explanation.

  Sam had begun to work up a sweat, and his bad leg was aching, causing him to fall even farther behind, when they heard the muffled thunder of hooves. Sam hurried to catch up with the older kids, and they clustered together on the side of the road as a group on horseback rode up.

  These were true Molokai paniolo—cowboys—wearing sweat-stained straw hats and seated on the kind of shiny-worn saddles that got that way from years of work. Four of them, intimidatingly large and adult, reined in their mounts. Sam spotted rifles in the saddle-tied holsters on their sides and pistols in their belts. Sam recognized one of them, Henry Kane, one of Buzz’s fishing buddies and his cousin—and thus their family, too.

  “Uncle Henry!” he yelled, dropping his pack.

  “So what, boy!” Uncle Henry said. “What you doing? How you wen’ get here?” Their voices fell into the rhythm of pidgin.

  “We built one boat, we sail ’em from Lanai,” Sam said proudly. “You know where Uncle and Aunty stay?”

  “Where you think? They home. They going be so surprise fo’ see you. Who dis?” He leaned forward on his saddle horn, indicating the others with a calloused brown hand.

  “My sister, Bea. She always stay home with Aunty when we go fishing, and Nick. He and Jaden Apucan, they wen’ help us get over here. Jaden come for news on what stay happening fo’ take back to Lanai.”

  “We riding the roads—doing patrol. Good thing we find you kids first. Some mean kine people hiding out here. They’ll take your stuff and beat you up for the hell of it.” Uncle Henry leaned off his mount to shake hands with Jaden, Bea, and Nick. After introducing the other two patrolmen, he gestured.

  “Climb up. We take you back into Kaunakakai.” The kids mounted up behind the riders and they wheeled the horses to head back into town. “We hear folks on Maui having hard time,” Uncle Henry said, as Sam leaned his cheek against the older man’s worn chambray shirt and they rode down the dirt road. “People forget how for grow and catch their own food. But we never stop working the `aina over here.”

  “Same on Lanai,” Sam said. “And my sister, she bring plenny seeds.” Bea had packed one of those coffee cans to the brim with harvested seed, and it rode in her backpack now.

  “The Kanekoas going be happy to see that,” Uncle said.

  Kaunakakai was a small town, though three times the size of Lanai City. The buildings of the town were done in false-fronted Western style, painted bright colors: pistachio green, robin’s-egg blue, and brick red. Pickup trucks, the favored mode of transportation, lined parking stalls in front of the buildings�
�permanently parked, as it turned out.

  All in all, Molokai people suspected they’d come through better than people on Maui or Oahu, according to Uncle Henry. No one knew if the solar event had reached as far as the Mainland, or what was happening there. The horses clopped down the asphalt road through town, and Sam felt like he was in a parade as children and dogs came running to greet them.

  The patrol rode them right up to their aunt and uncle’s house. The family’s dogs, big black pit bulls named Tiny and Fuzzy, ran out on guard duty—but switched to slobbering and whining in greeting as Sam and Bea slid off the horses.

  Jaden and Nick, looking nervous, took a little longer to come forward. By then, Aunty Hilary had run out of the house, yelling. “Auwe! What you kids doing here?”

  She burst into tears as she clasped both of them in her capacious arms, weeping and kissing. It was all the welcome Sam had imagined and more.

  Uncle Buzz came out, and their cousins, and it was a maelstrom of hugging and questions. Eventually they sorted out onto the wide, sheltering porch of the house. Bea handed the can of seeds over to her aunt, who was indeed very happy to have them, and Sam got yet another head rub from Uncle Buzz, his cousins plastered against either side. A little younger than Sam, they looked up to him.

  “So. What gave you the idea to come here?” Uncle Buzz said, when the obligatory beer, snacks, and “talk story” had been dispensed to the patrol for their kindness in bringing the kids out to the house and the riders had got on the road back to town.

  “Maybe I should answer that one,” Bea said, to Sam’s relief.

  Bea relaxed as her aunt, clucking over the state of her hair, sat Bea between her knees on a lower step and pulled a brush through the long, tangled, salty tresses. “You can’t even properly wash this hair until I get all these tangles out.”

  “Thank you, Aunty.” This was just what Bea had been longing for when she pictured her aunt’s face. It felt as good to be in the Kanekoas’ house as she’d imagined, and she closed her eyes in bliss.