I could smell her perfume, and sitting so close to her at the crowded bar, our arms almost touching, stirred up all kinds of things in me. I might have sworn off most people in general, but I’d been thinking a lot lately about how I missed women in particular.
“You’re welcome,” she said. She smiled, and I couldn’t be sure but I thought I noticed a slight flush on her cheeks. “I know it’s not quite as bold as living on an island alone, but I’m moving to Kenya in the fall.”
“Why Africa?” I asked.
“I’m going to join a volunteer mission. I want to experience new things, but I also want to help people. I just graduated from university, but I don’t want to be stuck behind some desk. I mean, what’s the point?” The more she talked, the more passionate she became. Her voice got a little louder, a little more determined. She looked me in the eye and said, “Did you know that over one million children have been orphaned by AIDS in Kenya?”
“No,” I said. “I didn’t know that.”
“It’s true. And often kids as young as ten have to leave school to find a job so they can support their younger siblings.” She shook her head. “It’s tragic. There are so many people who need help. If I can make a difference in just one person’s life, it will be worth it. Especially if that person is a child.”
I admired her fervent desire to help people, unlike me and my desire to hide from them. “I think what you’re planning to do is very commendable,” I said. “Where will you live?”
“Another volunteer and I are teamed up. We’ll stay in a communal area in the village.”
“Is that safe?”
“The volunteer coordinators have assured us that it is,” she said. “I’ll be fine.”
“When do you leave to go home?” I asked.
“I’m flying out tomorrow, actually.”
“Oh,” I said, nodding. Of course. Why else would she be in the airport hotel bar? “You must be ready to get back home.”
She shrugged. “I have the whole summer ahead of me. Not sure what I’m going to do with all the time, actually. I could get a job, but it would have to be temporary since I’ll be leaving again in three months.”
I realized as she spoke that I could sort of see down the front of her dress. Not a lot, but enough to remind me just how long it had been since I’d slept with a girl. That had been the last thing on my mind when I left California, but it seemed to be the first thing on my mind every morning when I woke up. And several times throughout the day. And again at night.
Maybe that’s why I said, “Come with me.”
“To your island?”
“Yeah. Why not?”
She didn’t miss a beat. “Maybe I will.”
I figured she was just blowing smoke, and she probably turned that killer smile on lots of guys. “Sure,” I said, laughing. “I’ll believe that when I see it.” She wasn’t particularly rugged looking. In fact, she was kind of slight. Delicate almost. Frankly, I couldn’t picture her on the island or in Africa or anyplace even remotely primitive.
She laughed and said, “You shouldn’t make assumptions. My life is temporarily lacking in adventure.”
“So it’s adventure you’re after?” I asked.
“Among other things,” she said.
What is that supposed to mean? Jesus, I really was out of practice. What if I’d completely lost the ability to determine when a girl was interested in me? I’d feel stupid if I took her seriously and she was just kidding. I decided to call her bluff and see if she confessed that there was no way in hell she planned to join me on some remote island. “You know there’s no bathroom, right?”
Her forehead creased with worry, but just for a second. “No bathroom, you say?”
“No, so don’t say I didn’t warn you. I’ve got a solar shower—which isn’t bad, actually—but there’s no running water. No electricity. No modern conveniences of any kind.”
“If I was bothered by those things, I wouldn’t be going to Africa now, would I?”
“Good point. Okay, then. Consider yourself officially invited. Come for a visit and stay as long as you’d like. I’ve got a satellite phone and a pilot on call who can bring you back to Malé at any time. Meet me at the seaplane dock tomorrow morning at nine.”
“I’ll be there, Owen.”
“Well, either way, it was nice meeting you.”
I paid my tab and headed back to my room. Before I went to bed I picked up the phone. When the voice mail beeped I said, “I invited this girl to come to the island with me. She probably won’t show. I mean, that would be crazy, right? But just in case, I was wondering if you could bring some extra supplies.” I paused, realizing how stupid I sounded. He’d probably look at me with pity tomorrow morning when he saw me standing on the dock by myself like a big loser. “On second thought, never mind. She’s not gonna show, so don’t worry about the supplies. Well, maybe you should. No, never mind. Okay, bye.” I hung up the phone.
There was no way this girl was going to meet me at the dock in the morning. But I had a hard time falling asleep because I couldn’t stop thinking about how great it would be if she did.
• • •
The next morning I showered and gathered up my things. I was waiting on the dock a few minutes before nine, and for the first time in almost a year I didn’t feel excited about boarding the seaplane. I felt another crushing wave of loneliness, and suddenly my time on the island seemed kind of pointless.
I saw her when I turned around to grab my duffel bag. I stood up straight and watched her walk toward me, pulling a medium-size suitcase on wheels with one hand and gripping the handle of a black guitar case with the other. She was wearing a pair of shorts and a hot-pink T-shirt, and her hair was down.
No way.
When she reached me I smiled and said, “Well, I was wrong. You’re much more adventurous than I thought.”
She smiled back at me. “I told you not to make assumptions.”
“Maybe I should have listened to you.” I couldn’t believe how happy I felt. For as much as I liked being alone, there was still a part of me that longed for companionship, especially from someone like her. She knew nothing about me but was still interested anyway. That hadn’t happened in a long time.
I stopped smiling, though, when I noticed the blond guy who’d been sitting next to her at the bar last night walking toward us shouldering a large backpack and carrying a duffle bag.
What the hell?
She noticed me looking over her shoulder and turned around. “Oh, that’s James,” she said. “He was worried that you might be a serial killer and said he had no intention of letting me go to some uncharted island alone. You don’t mind if he joins us, do you?”
Well, yeah. Kinda. But I understood. If I had been one of her traveling companions, I wouldn’t have let her go off with some stranger, either. “No, it’s fine,” I said. I tried not to let my disappointment show. “I don’t mind.”
She beamed at me and I was glad she didn’t pick up on how I really felt.
“I’m not a serial killer, though.”
“Good to know,” she said cheerfully. “I’ll be sure to mention it to James.”
The blond guy reached us. He set down his bag and thrust his hand out. “James Reed. Pleased to meet you. I hear we’re going to be roughing it a bit. No worries. I’m quite adaptable. And you’re lucky. My sister’s the rare girl who doesn’t worry much about luxuries.”
His sister?
And just like that my good mood returned. I remembered their interaction at the bar. How he laughed and smiled when she teased him. I’d mistaken it for flirting but now I understood that they were just two siblings who actually liked one another. Of course he wouldn’t let her come alone.
“It’s nice to meet you, too,” I said, shaking his hand a little too enthusiastically. James looked like he was a few years younger than Calia, but he was almost as tall as me, and solidly built. “I’m really glad you both decided to come,” I said, now tha
t I knew they were related. “It will be nice to have some company.”
“Are we leaving soon?” James asked.
“Yes,” I said. I pointed my finger. “Do you see that man over there? The one walking toward us eating a donut? That’s Captain Forrester. He’s our pilot. You’ll like him.”
“Good thing I ignored your rambling voice mail,” Captain Forrester said when he reached us. “Thought you told me there’d only be one.”
“Change of plans,” I said. “This is Calia and her brother, James.”
“Her brother, huh?” He looked at me pointedly and I turned away, hoping that Calia hadn’t noticed. “Nice to meet you,” he said, pumping both of their hands.
He was still chuckling quietly under his breath when I followed him to the cabin door.
“Oh, for God’s sake. Stop it,” I said.
“I can’t help it,” he said. “I’ve never known anyone who needed some company as badly as you do, son. I’m thrilled for you. Really.” He flung open the door, turned back around, and sighed, shaking his head. “Too bad she’s so damn ugly.”
This time, I was the one who laughed.
• • •
I didn’t sit up front. James and Calia sat next to each other and I sat across the aisle. It was hard to hear over the noise of the engines, so I mostly watched as they occasionally looked out the window, pointing out things to each other. It made me think of my sister, and how we used to get along like that when we were younger.
When we landed, James helped carry everything to shore. I was glad I’d made the call about the extra supplies. I still had quite a bit of nonperishable food, but we’d definitely need the water and other basic items that always needed restocking, like cooking fuel and paper products.
“You should have enough to get by for thirty days. When I make the next supply drop I’ll bring a little extra of everything.”
“Okay,” I said. I shook his hand. “See you in thirty days.”
• • •
The first thing I did when it was just the three of us was show Calia and James the house. James seemed fascinated, running his hands along the walls and opening and closing the door that connected the two rooms. “You built this all by yourself?” he asked. “How long did it take?”
“About nine months, give or take.”
“Do you sleep here?”
“Sometimes. I mostly built the house so I’d have shelter from the storms during the rainy season. But you two can have the tent—it’s much cooler and nicer to sleep near the beach. I don’t mind sleeping in the house.”
“Wicked job, mate.”
“Thanks.”
We made our way back to the beach. James seemed all in, but Calia was quiet and I worried that maybe she regretted her decision to come to the island. “I know it’s a bit primitive,” I said. “But there’s a lot to do. We can snorkel and swim. I’ve got books and magazines. The dolphins will be here soon. You’ll like them.”
“I think it’s fantastic,” Calia said, surprising me.
“You do?”
“Yes. It isn’t the five-star resorts that make places like this beautiful. It’s when they’re untouched that I like them the best. James and I much prefer places that are off the beaten path.”
“Have you done a lot of traveling?” I asked.
“Loads,” she said. “I picked a new place to explore every summer when I was at university. Something out of the ordinary. James loves it, too. It was his idea to come to the Maldives. Now we’ll really get to experience it.”
“Calia and I have a bit of wanderlust running through our veins,” James said.
“We’ve always been a bit impulsive,” Calia added.
“Mum didn’t quite know what to do with us,” James said.
“Mum didn’t quite know what to do with you.” Calia turned to me as if to explain. “Dad took off when we were young. Said he was going to the pub and never came back. Bastard. James quite fancied himself as the man of the house after that.”
“I was the man of the house.”
“In theory,” Calia said gently. “You were only eleven.” She looked at me. “That’s probably why we’re so open to trying new things. Mum worked two jobs to support us and wasn’t home all that much. We ran a bit wild.”
“What does she think about you coming here?” I asked. I assumed they’d called home, to let someone know of their change in plans. “Her only children on some remote island.”
They shared a glance.
“She died four years ago,” Calia said. “Now it’s just James and me.”
“And an uncle, Mum’s brother,” James added. “He was my legal guardian until a few months ago, when I turned eighteen. But he’s not all that interested in us anymore. Never has been, really.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. It struck me as significant that Calia was moving to Kenya to care for orphans when technically she was one herself. Maybe her dad was still very much alive, but Calia and James sure hadn’t benefitted from his parenting in a very long time.
“It’s fine,” Calia said. “We’re both adults. One of us only barely,” she teased, poking James in the leg. “We were lucky. There was enough life insurance to pay for our education and for us to travel a bit. We’ll settle down someday.
“My sister is going to save the world first,” James said, his tone half mocking, half adoration.
I looked at him smiling at her and said, “There’s nothing wrong with that.”
• • •
We spent most of that first day in the water. I had stored Calia’s suitcase and guitar in the house, and I walked her back to it so she could change. I waited outside and tried not to stare when she opened the door and stepped out wearing a tiny black string bikini. She was fairly tall, maybe five seven or eight, and her legs went on for miles.
She followed me through the woods back to the beach. I scanned the water, looking for the fins. The dolphins would be arriving soon, and I wanted to see the look on Calia’s face when she met them for the first time. They still amazed me, even after a year’s time.
James pointed at the snorkel mask and fins that I’d left lying on the sand. “Mind if I borrow them?” he asked.
“Not at all. You’ll be amazed by what you see.” I pointed out toward the reef. “Saw a whale shark out there one day. I swam with it until I was too tired to continue. It was absolutely incredible.”
“That’s wild,” he said, bending down to pick them up. “Thanks.”
“Be careful,” I said. “The reef sharks won’t bother you, but there’s no telling what else you might encounter. Just pay attention, okay?”
“All right, mate. I will.”
Calia and I watched him enter the water. Soon he was swimming toward the reef. I shielded my eyes from the sun with my hand. “It shouldn’t be too much longer,” I said.
“Until what?” she asked.
“You’ll see.”
We didn’t have to wait long before I saw the first fin. Calia saw it, too, because I heard her sharp intake of breath.
“What is that, Owen?” Panicked, she looked toward the reef where James was snorkeling, ready to yell at him to get out of the water.
“It’s okay,” I said. “It’s a dolphin. Keep your eye on that fin. There will be three or four more any minute.”
“Look!” she said when the rest of them surfaced in the lagoon.
“Come on,” I said. I started walking toward the shore.
She followed me. “Will they leave if we get in the water?”
“No. You’re going to love this.”
She was fascinated, just like I knew she would be, and even James took off the fins and mask long enough to meet them. I showed them how to gently stroke their stomachs when they turned over onto their backs, and catch a ride by holding onto their fins. Calia laughed when they splashed her. “Do they come every day?” she asked.
“Usually twice. Once in the late morning and once again in the afternoon. I feel bad
when I’m not here, because they never miss a visit,” I said. “They’re the friendliest animals I’ve ever encountered.”
When the dolphins left—as abruptly as they’d arrived—Calia and I swam in the lagoon for a while. I glanced at the sky and knew it was lunchtime by the position of the sun. “Are you getting hungry?” I asked.
“A little,” she said.
“Do you like fish?”
“Sure.”
She stood next to me in the water after I retrieved my fishing pole from the house and threw out my line. While we were waiting for a fish to bite I said, “The name Calia. It’s unusual.”
She rolled her eyes. “My mum named me.”
“I’ve never heard it before.”
“It’s derived from the medieval Greek name Kaleas, which means ‘good or beautiful person.’”
I stopped watching my fishing line long enough to look over at her. “Your mom chose well, because it’s a perfect name for you.”
This time there was no mistaking the flush on her cheeks. She looked over at me, smiled, and said, “Thanks, Owen.”
• • •
James had enjoyed meeting the dolphins, but as soon as they left he was right back out at the reef. I had to yell at him to come in after I’d caught enough fish for our lunch.
“What’s your story, Owen?” James asked while we were eating. “Calia said you’re from California and that you’ve been here a whole year already.”
“No story. Just felt like getting away,” I said. “I go back to the mainland often enough that I’m never really bored.”
“But don’t you have a job? How do you afford the supplies then, mate? And the seaplane?”
“James,” Calia scolded. “Don’t be nosey.”
“It’s okay,” I said. I turned toward James. “I planned ahead. Set some money aside. I can leave anytime.”
“So you just left everything behind and came here?”
“Pretty much.”
I’d been thinking a lot about what I might want to do next. I’d considered and then discarded half a dozen ideas. Nothing seemed interesting enough to convince me to start making plans. But going home to California hadn’t even made the short list.
Uncharted: An On the Island Novella: (A Penguin Special from Dutton) Page 6