Remake

by Ilima Todd

  “The salt water is more buoyant. But here, you’ll have to work harder to stay afloat. You’ll become a stronger swimmer.” Kai grabs my hand and pulls me into the deeper water. “And there are no waves, and definitely no sharks, so I’m hoping you’ll be able to relax a bit.”

  No sharks. Still, it’s hardly reassuring, learning my sinkability factor has increased. Okay, maybe a little reassuring.

  Kai pulls me farther away from the shallow water, and I can’t touch the bottom anymore. I panic and grab hold of him around his neck, ignoring the stiffness in my stitched arm. “Kai!”

  “It’s okay,” he says. “Just hold on.” He pulls us even farther until I know he can’t touch either, and he is treading water to keep both of us afloat. When we’ve gone several more feet, he peels me off and holds me at arm’s length. I can tell he’s struggling to keep us both up with just his own legs kicking, and it does nothing to calm me.

  “Nine,” he says. “I won’t be able to hold the both of us forever. So you’re going to have to start keeping yourself up.”

  “What?” My eyes widen with anxiety.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t let you drown.” He grins at me. “But I’m depending on you to forget what a jerk I am and care enough to not let me drown.”

  “What?” I ask again. All of this drowning talk is definitely not helping.

  “I want you to kick from your hips, just like yesterday, with your legs straight. Only point them straight down in the water.” Kai shows me what to do, with his hands still at my waist, holding me at arm’s length in front of him.

  I do what he says and resist the urge to go for his neck. His hands are definitely keeping me up, not my kicking.

  “Good,” he says. “Now move your hands forward and back, as though you’re pushing the water each way with the palm of your hand.” He releases one hand from my waist to show me the movement. When his head sinks below the surface for a second while he adjusts his balance, my heart races. Surely he’s kidding about the letting him drown part. Right? “You do it,” he tells me.

  I move both of my hands together, forward and back, pushing the water with my palms like he showed me.

  “Good. Don’t forget to kick.”

  Oh, yeah. I add my kicking, and though it still feels awkward, it’s almost as though I’m more in control of myself than Kai is.

  “Slow down,” he says, keeping only one hand on my waist.

  I slow down and start to feel a balance in my movements. Arms forward, kick, kick, arms backward, kick, kick. It’s tiring, but at least I’m in control. And the pain in my injured arm is completely gone now. I look up at Kai, who smiles and holds both of his hands above the water next to him. He’s not holding me anymore. Oh, no. No no no.

  “Kai!” I move toward him and grab hold of his neck, but the motion sends both of us under the water. He’s going to drown, and it will be my fault. I let go and rise above the water. Arms, kick, kick. Arms, kick, kick. I focus on my movements while looking around frantically. He’s still under the water. I can’t see him. “Kai!” I scream. It’s like Theron all over again. I panic, and my motions become rushed. I’m afloat, but Kai is still under the water. I killed him.

  Then suddenly a head pops up right in front of me and says, “Boo.”

  “Kai!” I grab hold of him again so fiercely, I know we will both go down, but I don’t care. At least I’ll go down with him this time. At least I won’t be left alone.

  But we don’t drown. Kai pulls us to the shallows and helps me to my feet, frowning at the terror on my face. “I’m sorry, Nine. That was really dumb of me.”

  I jump into him, wrapping my arms and legs around him so tight I almost knock him over in the knee-deep water. “I don’t care,” I blurt out. “I’m just so glad you’re still alive.” I hold him tight, grateful I have something to hold and that he’s not lost at the bottom of the pool. He lets me bury my face in his neck, then I feel his arms move around me, slowly, holding me against him.

  When I no longer feel anxious, I loosen my arms a bit. He stands me in the water and steps back, looking away before muttering something under his breath.

  “What?”

  “I said, let’s grab something to eat. I know you didn’t eat breakfast.”

  Funny—I thought he had said something like maybe baggy clothes were better.

  He pulls out kiwi fruit and sweet bread to share. After eating, we go back in the water. In the deep end, after a promise from Kai for no more teasing, we work on treading water again. After mastering the straight kick, he teaches me how to tread water by alternating circles with my legs. It takes me a while to get it right, but when I finally do, it’s much easier to maneuver than the straight kick.

  I feel like a fool when Kai has me blowing bubbles in the water. When he holds me to swim this time, I don’t feel quite as disoriented. We practice kicks and strokes, and by the late afternoon I can swim decently across the pool. I amaze myself by swimming out to the deep end, treading water for a minute, then swimming back to the shallow.

  “See, just like a fish, eh,” he says when we’re back on dry ground. The late afternoon sun casts a shadow across his face.

  I can’t help but smile. “Thank you,” I say, “for teaching me.”

  “How do you feel?” he asks, stuffing the crayfish into his backpack.

  “Good. I’m tired—exhausted, really. I’ll probably collapse as soon as we get home.”

  Kai comes to stand in front of me and examines my stitched arm. “And the rest of you?”

  “I’ve forgotten all about my arm,” I say, “but my breasts are killing me.”

  Kai’s jaw tightens and his eyes go wide. He must not understand what I mean, being a male and all.

  “They’ve been so tender lately,” I explain. “Do you think they’re filling up with milk like Miriama?” I start to lift my rash guard to show him what I mean.

  “Gah!” Kai grabs the hem of my shirt to stop me and curses. “Pull your shirt down.”

  “What’s wrong?” I glance down at my covered chest and frown. I wonder if they are developing incorrectly.

  Kai looks at me with a red face, gulping. “You can’t do that, Nine.”

  “Do what?”

  “Flash your . . . your . . . you just can’t show anyone your bare chest. Don’t ever do it again.”

  “Why not?” I ask, angry at his unsolicited outburst. “You do it all the time.” I slap his bare chest right in front of my face.

  “That’s different.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re such a child,” he mutters to himself.

  I hate it when he calls me that. “Why is it different?” I ask again.

  “Because I’m a guy and you’re a . . . a girl.”

  Grr. I’m getting really tired of these gender rules I don’t understand. I crouch and angrily put my shoes on. When I stand, Kai’s holding out my fabric wrap. I tear it from his grip and toss it over my shoulder.

  Kai exhales slowly and glances down to my bare legs. Through gritted teeth, he says, “Put it on, Nine. Please.”

  I don’t want to do as he says, but I’m starting to feel cold under the glare of his icy eyes, so I put it on and storm away back through the trail. It feels like it takes a lifetime to get to the bike, and even longer to reach home. When we do, Kai tosses the bike to the ground and tells me he’s hitting the reef. He grabs his fins, mask, knife, and spear and heads for the beach, but not before telling me I am definitely not invited.

  I’m too tired to argue. I stumble into the shower, letting the water wash away my anger. I don’t understand what I did wrong this time. Just when I think we’re getting along, maybe even enjoying each other’s company, Kai has to muddle things with his senseless loathing toward me. I’ll never know where I fit if he keeps confusing whatever this is between us.

  After I’m dressed, I eat a dinner of some kind of fish stew and collapse on my bed before Kai has returned from diving. My entire body is spent, and
I am asleep in an instant.

  It’s later that night, in the dark, that I vaguely realize someone is standing in my doorway for a few minutes before coming in and draping a blanket over me. I’m too tired to say anything, but I’m aware enough to realize that someone has a mass of black curls on the top of his head.

  No one wakes me early, and I’m glad. My body is so tired, the extra sleep feels absolutely blissful. When I finally do roll out of bed and head for the kitchen, I realize why no one woke me. It’s pouring rain, which means we’ll spend the day inside.

  Hemi runs to squeeze me around the waist. “I don’t have to go to school today, Nine.” His smile, as always, is contagious, and I play with the curls on his head. “Kai’s gonna paint me something in our room.”

  “Neat,” I say. I glance at Kai at the kitchen table, stirring whatever it is he’s having for breakfast. He used to complain about having to share a room with Hemi because of me, but I can’t remember the last time he’s mentioned it.

  “What’s he going to paint?” I ask Hemi.

  “I don’t know yet,” he says. “It’s a surprise. What are you going to do?”

  “Um . . . maybe I’ll do some reading.” The family has a few books on a small shelf that seem very old. Miri told me I’m welcome to them any time, and maybe it will keep my mind off things. Like Theron. And a certain someone’s irrational behavior around me.

  I join Kai at the kitchen table and peel a banana. “Did you catch anything in the reef yesterday?” I ask him, tentative.

  He shakes his head. At least he’s not ignoring me.

  I eat in silence, and Kai disappears into his bedroom with Hemi. I volunteer to hold the baby while Miri takes a shower, and when she takes Tama back later, I put away the dry dishes and clean the bathroom. I offer to help Pua knead dough for rolls, but she shoos me away. Sighing, I scan the small bookshelf, picking up an old book with thin pages and the word Bible on the cover.

  Sitting at the table across from Pua, I open it to the first pages. The language is ancient, foreign. But after a few lines, the words become familiar. Sort of.

  So God created man in his own image,

  In the image of God created he him;

  Male and female created he them.

  “Pua?” I ask after getting her attention. “Is God another name for the first Maker?”

  She smiles. “Yes.”

  I read on to more familiar words.

  And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground

  And breathed into his nostrils the breath of life;

  And man became a living soul.

  Then I read things unfamiliar. Adam. Eve. The names of the first male and female. I reread the passages over and over, trying to understand their meaning.

  And the Lord God said, It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him an help meet for him.

  And the Lord God caused a deep sleep to fall upon Adam, and he slept: and he took one of his ribs, and closed up the flesh instead thereof;

  And the rib, which the Lord God had taken from man, made he a woman, and brought her unto the man,

  And Adam said, This is now bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh; she shall be called Woman, because she was taken out of Man.

  Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife: and they shall be one flesh.

  And God blessed them, and God said unto them, Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth.

  After waving my arm in the air to get Pua’s attention again, I ask, “What is a wife?”

  She pours more flour on the table and rubs it into her hands. “Mom and Dad are married. That means she is his wife, and he is her husband.”

  “What does married mean?”

  “When a male and female decide they love each other very much and want to spend the rest of their lives together and with no one else, they get married.” Pua begins to roll the dough out with a wooden rolling pin. “Our cousin Liko is getting married next month. There is a ceremony and friends and family attend, to help celebrate their love.”

  “So they vow to be lovers with only each other?” I think about what Kai said the day Tama was born. That he planned to have sex and make babies with just one female. Well, those were my words, not his, but he affirmed them.

  “Yes,” Pua says. “But it’s more than that. They promise to love each other for always, no matter what happens. They are bound as one, always caring for the other more than anything else in the world.”

  I look back down to the book in my hands. “What does it mean to be fruitful and multiply?”

  Kai walks out of his room with a bucket full of paintbrushes.

  Pua winks at me. “It means to have lots of babies.”

  Kai growls, turns around, and walks back into his room again.

  Pua laughs.

  I had thought Pua and Kai would be similar in the way they behave toward me because they were born at the same time, but it’s the complete opposite.

  I lie on the couch and think about the words in the book and how similar yet different they are from the words we memorized as children back in Freedom. I’ve never heard of marriage before, and although most people in Freedom have sex with whomever they want, a few choose to be with primarily one other person. Not with any promises to stay together forever, though. And certainly not having babies together.

  I thought I understood why they have strange rules about sex here. Because for them it’s not just for recreation, it’s how they reproduce. But I’m starting to realize it’s more than that. It’s . . . special. Pua’s words drift through my head—promise, love, always. I let them cover me like a blanket, bringing a warmth that surprises me. Because I hadn’t realized I was cold.

  The spattering rain outside lulls me to sleep on the couch. A tiny hand shakes me awake. It’s Hemi. I look outside but cannot tell how long I’ve been asleep. The rain continues to fall heavily.

  “Nine,” Hemi says. “Come and see.” A blue moon and star are painted on his face.

  I smile at his excitement and let him pull me into his room. Kai kneels on the floor, gathering his homemade paints and brushes onto a tray. Hemi lets go of me and rushes past him to the wall behind him. It is a solid black background with colorful spheres and rings standing out from the dark. It’s our solar system, complete with sun, planets, moons, and an asteroid belt. Hundreds of tiny stars dot the black sky. Hemi jumps and points to what looks like a shuttle in space, with fire spewing out the back of it. A tiny face with curly black hair peeks out of a window.

  “It’s me,” he says. “Flying in a spaceship. Did you know there used to be spaceships that traveled from planet to planet?”

  It’s a ridiculous notion, but I smile at Hemi and his wild imagination. “It’s wonderful,” I say, glancing at Kai. He raises one side of his mouth and continues to gather his supplies.

  “I’m gonna show Mom my moon face.” Hemi runs out of the room.

  I walk toward the wall, in awe of how grand the scene is, and how small it makes me feel. The Earth is painted at my eye level, and I get a close look. It’s amazing how much detail Kai was able to include. I can see Freedom One, and just off the coast, two long islands with a smaller one to the right. Mahawai. Our island.

  “Kai?” I ask without turning around.

  “Mm?”

  “Why do you hate me so much?”

  He doesn’t answer for a long minute, and as I’m about to leave the room in frustration, I hear him whisper, “I don’t hate you.”

  I clear my throat to prevent myself from laughing out loud.

  “I don’t,” he says. “I hate Freedom. I guess for a while I took it out on you, because you were Freedom to me.”

  “And now?” I turn and look at him on the floor.

  Kai sighs. “And now, I don’t know what to think about you.”

  It isn’t exactly reassuring. “Why do you hate Freedom?”

  “Because it’s anything but freedom.”
His face twists in anger. “They make you think you’re free, choosing your hair color and gender and whatever else you people change. But it’s just a way for them to control you . . . giving you a false liberty.”

  “But we are free,” I say. “We are equal.”

  “They take away one of the greatest gifts of all mankind—the ability to have children. Where is that choice for you to make? They don’t give you the chance to be raised by people who love you. There are no families. It’s not right.”

  Being here these past weeks, I’ve learned the appeal of a family. Everyone working not just for themselves, but for the benefit of all. It’s a place to belong that’s not a place at all, because I imagine that feeling of family would still remain even if they were apart. It reminds me of Theron, and the way we’ll always be connected, no matter what. Those in Freedom don’t know any other way. Maybe when I go back, I can tell the Prime Maker about families. Then people will have an opportunity to choose that too.

  I turn back to the mural on the wall. The strip of ocean between Freedom and Mahawai seems so narrow, but, like Miri had explained, I know it’s a vast distance—far enough to have kept this island hidden for a long time from Freedom.

  “Why not forget them, then?” I ask. “Let Freedom live as it wants, and you live here. Why worry about what the other is doing?”

  Kai stands and comes up behind me. “I wish it could work that way. But Freedom has already attacked other rebels.” He pauses. “Last year I went hunting with my dad on the west islands, and while we were out on our canoe, we saw people from Freedom on the shore. They were attacking a rebel village there. We managed to sail away and hide the boat, but by the time we reached the village on foot, it was abandoned. The houses were empty with plates of food still sitting at tables. Clothes and toys and medicines were tucked away on shelves. Those people didn’t just decide to move away.”

  “You think they were killed?”

  “Or taken.”

  “How do you know it was Freedom?” Maybe the people became sick—possibly from a form of the Virus. Maybe he’s confused about what he saw.

  “It was Freedom.” His words aren’t harsh, just pensive. “They won’t be satisfied until everyone is under their control.”