Ghosts of the Pacific

by Philip Roy

  I went straight down. The water was murky and pulled at me in every direction but I swam as strongly as I could without working too hard. I needed all the air that I had.

  It was seventy-five feet down but it took longer than it should have because the undertow pulled me back and forth. At one moment it dragged me sideways so far that I thought I’d have to give up the idea. But it swung me back again and I kept going. At the bottom I saw the dim light of the Grotto cavern coming through its tunnel. To the left of that was the other tunnel. But it was dark. I hadn’t left light on in the cave.

  As I swam into the tunnel it quickly grew black and I had to feel my way along with my hands. It was fifty feet or so inside to the bottom of the cavern, but I couldn’t see anything. It was so difficult now. I had to concentrate and wait until I reached a wall in front of me. Only then could I start up. But it seemed to take so long. That’s always what happened when you were counting in seconds; it seemed to take forever.

  When my hand hit rock in front of me I had to fight down a panic feeling. Something inside told me that the safest thing to do was to go back the way I had come, not go up into the dark unknown. For a second I hesitated. How much harder it was to think clearly at times like this. My instinct said, go back. My plan was to go forward. I had to force myself to trust the plan I had made before diving into the water. That was the hardest thing of all. If I were wrong, I wouldn’t make it out. I wouldn’t have enough air.

  I went up steadily. Even as I did my mind fought against me, wanting to go back and save myself before it was too late. Was this suicide? I opened my eyes. Everything was black. Where was the surface? Why was the distance up so endless? Where was the surface? Where was the air? I needed air now!

  When my hand struck a hard surface above me, panic went through me like an electric shock. My mouth opened and I swallowed water. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be. I couldn’t have made a mistake. Had I chosen the wrong cave? Was I about to die? My heart broke as I realized I was about to die. In a split second I thought of Hollie and Seaweed. I thought of Ziegfried and Sheba. My grandparents. My father. My sister. I thought of Cinnamon and how sad she would be. I was so sorry. I was so sorry for all of them. I had let them down so terribly. In a final act of desperation I struck at the stone ceiling above me. It was strangely smooth. In a second I realized what it was. It was the sub. I swam desperately to the side, broke the surface and gasped for air, coughing and throwing up sea water. I clung to the side of the sub and cried. I had been frightened to death. It was the closest I had ever come to dying. I didn’t like it one little bit.

  But there was no time to waste. I climbed into the sub, hit the floodlights and went down and out through the tunnel. The undertow tugged at the sub as it came into the sea and it scraped and bumped against rock on the way up. As I approached the surface the waves tossed and pitched the sub wildly. I had several ropes ready to tie up to the rock if it were at all possible. I didn’t mind a few scrapes, but I needed to keep it from getting bashed against the rocks.

  I surfaced completely and opened the hatch. The wind almost blew me right out of the portal. I strapped on the harness and tied myself to the sub with a fifty-foot length of rope. I tied a rope to the dinghy and then inflated it on the side of the sub, jumped into it and paddled over to the rock. Water was spilling into the sub but I wasn’t worried about that. It wouldn’t swamp so quickly. I saw the hollow where Seaweed and Hollie were. I yelled but they couldn’t hear me. Reaching the rock, I climbed out and tied the dinghy down, but it wouldn’t stay for long. I climbed up the rock and found the crew. Hollie was still inside the tool bag. He was such a smart dog. I sealed the hatch on the bag and swung it over my shoulder. Then I tried to pick up Seaweed but he would have none of that. “Follow me, Seaweed! Biscuits! Biscuits!” I had to yell it at the top of my lungs for him to hear me. I started down the rock. He started to follow by hopping but the wind picked him up. I flung myself at him, caught him in the air and pulled him against my chest. I knew he didn’t like that, but too bad. When we reached the dinghy I shoved Seaweed inside my shirt. That was the only way I could hold on to him, untie the ropes and paddle to the sub. The second we climbed out of the dinghy the wind grabbed it, snapped the rope and ripped it away. I saw it fly away into the sky like a leaf. I climbed into the sub, let Seaweed out from under my shirt, shut the hatch, went down and submerged. It was a bumpy descent. We banged rock several times but I found the tunnel on sonar, motored into it and rose into the peace and quiet of the cavern. I didn’t think anyone was ever so happy to be inside a cave before.

  Chapter 31

  THE TYPHOON RAGED. It was an act of nature. Paul said that the typhoons were getting worse every year because of global warming, which was our fault. He said we didn’t deserve this planet. But then, he didn’t believe he deserved his own freedom.

  I fed the crew, made some pasta, cleaned myself up and tried to grab some sleep. I hoped Cinnamon was safe where she was. I hoped Paul was too. There was nothing I could do anyway until the typhoon passed. So I tried to sleep.

  But I couldn’t. I needed to know what was happening. A few hours after we had come in, I climbed through the passageways again, by myself, until I reached the last one. The echo of the winds twisted deeply inside, even before I slithered up the final section. It was much louder than before. I slithered up anyway and stuck my head out. The force of the typhoon was frightening. Would anyone survive this?

  Back in the cavern I sat on the hull and stared at the skeletons. Who were they anyway, I wondered? What were their lives like before they joined the army and went to war? And why did they come here? Did they even have a choice about coming? Perhaps they didn’t. Perhaps they never wanted to come here. Then they died here. They must have had family and friends waiting for them back home, wherever home was. But they never returned. They would have been listed as missing-in-action. Now, here we were, sitting in their tomb as if we had snuck in like ghosts. Well, we had. I honestly didn’t know who seemed more like ghosts—us, or them.

  Should I just leave them then, because this was their grave? I would have, I thought, if I knew they didn’t have people waiting for them, wondering about them and what had happened to them. But there had to be people wondering still, such as the man on the cliffs, because everyone comes from somewhere. Everyone has people who want to know what happens to them.

  Then I wondered: what if I had been one of them? Would I want people to know what had happened to me? That was easy to answer. Yes, I sure would. I would want someone to tell my grandparents, my father, and especially Ziegfried, Sheba and Angel. Even if fifty years had passed since I died? Yes, absolutely, even if five hundred years had passed.

  Well, that settled it—when the typhoon was over, I would carry the skeletons out.

  But how could I get them outside without taking them into the sub? And I really didn’t want to take them into the sub. That was my home. I didn’t want skeletons in it, even for a little while. But the passageways were too narrow to carry skeletons through, especially the last part at the top, unless I carried them bone by bone, and there was no way I was going to do that. It was one thing to share a cave with them; it was another to carry them on my back like a sack of potatoes. I would have to take them into the sub, I guessed, like it or not.

  A few hours later I climbed up again. The typhoon had lessened some but it would be getting dark soon. I decided to wait until first thing in the morning when the sun was up. I would pack a lunch, bring Hollie and leave Seaweed behind with a light on.

  The next day, when Hollie and I crawled out, the air was almost as still outside as it was inside the cave. But I couldn’t believe what we found. The typhoon had caused so much destruction the land was hardly recognizable. Trees had been pulled right out of the ground, roots and all, and thrown sideways. I couldn’t even tell where the road was when we went down the hill. Then we found it. Parts of it were clear and parts covered in debris. I saw large fish, shells and lots of s
eaweed from the bottom of the sea. How could it have come here? A little farther along the road we came across a dead cow. Now I was really worried. What were we going to discover in town? What about Cinnamon, Paul and everyone else? A little farther I heard the distant sound of a chainsaw. Someone was alive. Someone had begun to clean up.

  On the way to town I saw the first houses. Every concrete house was still standing, but nothing else. Homes made of wood and metal were flattened and their materials scattered widely. I saw a sink, toilet and bathtub in the middle of the road. Then I came upon a crew of men working to clear the road, and they would not let me go any farther. “We need your help here!” they said, and it was no use arguing with them. I put Hollie down where I could see him and started helping pull things off the road. Two men cut the trees and branches on the road and I helped throw the pieces to the side. Everything would be gathered up later. For now, it was just necessary to make the road passable. People had to be able to reach the hospital.

  “Was anyone killed?” I asked.

  “At least a thousand,” one man answered. “Nobody knows for sure. Could be a lot more. It’s worse on the south side.”

  “Do you know if the circus ship survived?”

  The men shook their heads. “Sorry, son. Didn’t see it. Don’t know.”

  I worked with the crew all morning. It was killing me not knowing whether Cinnamon and Paul were okay or not. Nobody I met had seen the ship. Finally, when they took a break for lunch, I grabbed Hollie and snuck away. I was sure there were other crews I could help later; I didn’t have to stay with this one.

  The town was not as badly damaged as I thought it would be. Everyone had boarded up their windows. Now they were open again. I went straight to the dock. There were sailboats lying on their sides far from the water. I saw the circus ship docked just where it had been, though it looked more beaten up than before. It was covered with clumps of seaweed, sand and tree branches, but it was still there. Everyone must have survived. I hurried on. I wanted to see if Paul was okay.

  The road that led to Paul’s house was impassable. I had to climb over and around trees, branches and debris. The beach wasn’t any better. There were crews clearing the road but I avoided them because I didn’t want anyone to stop me before I reached Paul’s house.

  The house was still standing but the butterflies were gone. The lemons and coconuts were gone, and the fat banana leaves were gone. It looked so bare. The dogs were there, in the back, but Paul wasn’t. I went to the door and knocked. The dogs yipped, then recognized me and wagged their tails. But where was Paul? Had he been injured? Had he gone to the hospital? The hospital was on another road. I had seen a sign for it. So, I headed in that direction. Then I saw another crew clearing the road. And then I saw Paul. He had taken off his jacket and was carrying small armloads of debris to the piles. He was moving as slowly as a snail but he was helping. I saw him talking to the other men and smiling. I could hardly believe it. Then he saw me. “Alfred!”

  “Hi, Paul.”

  “What a mess, hey?”

  I nodded.

  “Have you come to help too?”

  He sounded happy.

  “Yes, I have.”

  I put Hollie down and let him out of the bag. Then I joined Paul and the rest of the crew.

  We worked until dark. It took all of that time to clear a section of road about an eighth of a mile long. It was hard work, and no one was getting paid, and yet everyone was happy. I found that inspiring. It made me think that cleaning up the oceans wouldn’t be so hard if the right people came together to do it.

  I wondered if Paul considered his house arrest over now. After all, he had come to the circus, and now he was working away from his house. But I didn’t want to ask him that yet. It didn’t feel right. I did tell him about the caves and skeletons though, and what I was planning to do with them. Perhaps it would upset him to hear about it, I didn’t know. It didn’t seem to. He listened closely, asked me a few questions, and then offered to help. “I can speak a little Japanese.”

  “You can speak Japanese?”

  “A little.”

  “Cool.”

  When it turned dark, we stopped working. Paul went home and I returned to the circus ship. I checked to make sure the hatch was shut on the tool bag before climbing on board. I found Cinnamon in Megara’s cabin. She pulled me in, shut the door and hugged me tightly. “I’m so happy you are all right. Did you hide in your cave?”

  I nodded. “Is everyone here okay?”

  “Yes, but it was awful. We were afraid. We thought it was going to capsize the ship.”

  “Really?”

  “It turned us sideways. It almost threw us upside-down. We banged against the dock and dented the side of the ship.”

  “But you’re all right?”

  “I’m fine. I’m better now that I know that you are okay.”

  I looked behind Cinnamon and saw Megara watching me. Even without her make-up and costume she looked like Medusa. I waved. “Hi.”

  “Hello, Alfred. You survived?”

  “Yes. I had a safe place to stay.”

  “And you enjoyed our circus?”

  I looked down. A snake was coiling around my ankle. Carefully, I lifted my foot free. “Uhh . . . yes. Very much. Where will you go next?”

  “Nowhere for a while. We have to make repairs first. Our next venue will be Guam, I believe.”

  I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was another snake.

  “They’re getting used to you,” said Megara.

  I brushed the snake away.

  “Do you want to take a walk?” Cinnamon asked.

  “Sure.”

  Hollie and I were always happy to leave the snake lady’s den.

  We went slowly down the beach. The power was out on the island and wouldn’t be up for at least a week. People were running generators. Cinnamon held my hand. She was happy. She hadn’t heard of anyone being killed. I realized that the man who had told me that had been exaggerating a lot.

  “Cinnamon?”

  “Yes?”

  “I want to ask you something.”

  “Okay.”

  “It’s kind of weird, and I would understand if you didn’t want to help, I really would.”

  “I would love to help. What is it?”

  “It’s . . . well, I’m going to take the skeletons out of the cave and I could use your help.”

  “You’re right; that’s weird.”

  “Paul is going to help too.”

  “You mean the crazy guy?”

  “He’s not crazy. Well, maybe he’s a tiny bit crazy. But he’s very nice. It’s okay if you don’t want to help. I understand. I just thought I’d ask you because you said you weren’t made of glass.”

  “Will I have to look at the skeletons?”

  “I suppose you could shut your eyes, but I think it would be very hard not to see them. They’re not that scary. Honestly. Just a little.”

  “I think they’re going to be very scary. Will I have to touch them?”

  “I don’t think you’d have to touch them, just the bags we would carry them in.”

  “What kind of bags?”

  “I was thinking of using those large burlap sacks we have for the road clean-up.”

  “Oh boy, that’s weird. Okay, I’ll help.”

  “Really? That’s great. Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. You live a crazy life.”

  “I know. So do you.”

  Chapter 32

  FOR SIX DAYS PAUL and I worked with a clean-up crew. There was so much to do. All of the roads needed clearing. Ditches needed clearing so the water could run off the roads and fields. Wires had to be picked up and reconnected before power could be restored. People needed help cleaning their yards so they could get back to normal life. The official report said that twenty-seven people had died during the typhoon. Most had been struck by debris, drowned, or died of a heart attack.

  I didn’t see Cinnamon the seco
nd night because I had to return to the cave to feed Seaweed and let him out. The night after that I was so exhausted from work that I fell asleep on a cosy spot beside the road, just intending to nap, but didn’t wake until the next morning. So it was three nights later when I finally came back to the ship. But I knew she would understand why I had not been around.

  We walked each night after that. In the days, I worked out a plan with Paul. In the nights, I shared it with Cinnamon. Each night I slept on the beach with Hollie and Seaweed, and each morning washed in the lagoon. I had coffee and toast with Paul first thing every morning, and lunch and supper with the work crew. People brought us food and we picked up fruit during the day wherever we found it, so I was well fed. I felt like a hobo in a way, eating and sleeping outside all of the time, like Seaweed. And what a wonderful feeling it was.

  The night we went for the skeletons, Cinnamon walked across the island with me. Twilight was passing when we reached the spot on the shore where Seaweed had hidden from the wind. Cinnamon waited with Hollie while I dove into the water. But she was struggling with it. “You are going to dive down there and come back with your submarine?”

  “Yup.”

  “And then I’ll come down there with you and we’ll pick up the skeletons and bring them back?”

  “Yup.”

  “Okay. For some reason I can’t quite believe this.”

  “It’s okay. You’ll see. I’ll be right back.”

  I did my breathing and dove into the sea. It was much easier without an undercurrent, and I felt a lot more confident that I was going in the right direction. Even so, it was unnerving to enter the blackness again and swim up into the cavern knowing that I had to be right, that a mistake would mean death. I thought of Mr. Chee again, as I knew I always would now at moments of danger. What would he have done in my shoes, I wondered?

  I swam up inside the cavern, climbed into the sub and brought it down and out into the sea. When I rose to the surface and opened the hatch, it was completely dark. I could barely make out Cinnamon’s silhouette on the rocks. We didn’t have a dinghy anymore so I hit the floodlights and came to the edge of the rock. She passed me Hollie first, then the burlap sacks, then jumped onto the hull. We submerged and went into the cavern. I kept the floodlights on. Cinnamon was nervous when she stuck her head out of the portal. “Oh! Oh my gosh! Are those real?”