Isle of Gods I: Damek

by H. Lovelyn Bettison

She raised her arms in the air.

  “That’s good.”

  I couldn’t get the woman on the wall out of my head, her smooth tawny skin and sculpted face, the way she stared at me with impenetrable dark eyes. Mulling the event over in my mind, I wondered who she was, where she came from, and how she appeared on the dining room wall. None of it made sense. Maybe Lourdes was playing some kind of trick on me, but Lourdes wasn’t one to play tricks. I didn’t think I could remember her ever playing a trick on anyone.

  The cars meandered along the slate-colored road. As I sat at the traffic light, I looked at the other drivers around me staring blankly through their windshields at a world beyond their control. They’d been trained to fall in line and accept what the gods had given them. They struggled to squeeze their hopes into their confined lives and feign contentment. I was trained just like they were. In school all of us were taught to be happy with what the gods had given us in exchange for our prayers and offerings and never ask for more. We were shown our places in the world and told never to leave them. I tried briefly to accept the life that was handed to me, but I knew that wasn’t enough even before I left high school. I wanted something different and that meant I would join the ranks of the discordant, sailing around the world searching for the gods who defined our destinies and occasionally answered our prayers. It was difficult to go against destiny, but I never shied away from difficulty. I couldn’t because my life was difficult from the start, born to parents who didn’t want me and raised by a grandmother who couldn’t afford me. I wouldn’t let that stop me from trying to do something great. Those feelings of rejection remained knotted up inside of me as reminders to live a bigger life. Maybe that was why the woman on the wall appeared to me. She knew that I was one of the few willing to take risks.

  I shook my head. I was making too much of this. I probably hadn’t seen anything at all. The light turned green and I eased into the intersection.

  There weren’t enough people living in this town to have any real rush hour traffic. Seacrest was a small port city. Most of the work here for people like me was on the docks. Fishing was the life-blood of this place and the fishing boats always came in loaded to the point of near sinking. We were lucky that way. That kind of abundance was almost enough to make the townspeople ignore the other problems here.

  The moisture from the harbor rose into the air in a fog that hung in scruffy dangerous patches during the evening commute. Dense gray clouds seemed to hover only inches above us most of the time. The few skyscrapers here clustered together in the center of town and rose valiantly into the cloud cover. Gray fog and clouds were the price we paid for living by the water. Every place has a downside.

  There was only one school in the middle of town, a big brick building that served all grades. That’s all we needed anymore. Most babies didn’t live beyond a few weeks. That had been going on for about twenty years now. It started quietly on the other side of the world. Then spread to every corner of the planet until there wasn’t a single family that wasn’t touched by tragedy. We still didn’t know why it happened and despite all of the praying in the world the gods didn’t see fit to correct it. Without enough students the schools were all converted into churches or factories. I heard that the old high school was bought by a crazy billionaire who made it into some sort of mansion. High school was nothing but bad memories for me. I for sure wouldn’t want to live in one.

  Seacrest was big enough to seem like the big city to the real country folks, but small enough to seem like the country to real city folks. I thought it was the perfect size. Given all that was going on in the world, it was just as good a place to live as any. Sorrow and discontent can happen anywhere. Changing where I lived wouldn’t give me relief from it.

  I drove down the main drag passing the big Sacred Circle sculpture in the middle of the town square. The golden ring rose into the sky from its concrete base. They’d recently installed new lights around it so worshipers could see it at all hours of the day or night. Some stood around it now, holding their pendants in the air toward it and praying aloud. I didn’t have to have my windows rolled down to know what they were saying. I’d learned all the prayers just like everyone else.

  “I will honor and accept my destiny. For it is a great and merciful gift.”

  “I know my days are short. Please guide me into the Circle when my end comes.”

  “Bring me safely to shore where I will be with you always.”

  Some danced and twirled, arms outstretched, looking up at the sky. Not many people still believed the gods were in the sky. We knew that the gods lived on an island in the middle of the sea. Everything in the world was controlled by them from the place where all the compasses pointed. Only one mortal man ever went there and returned to tell about it. That’s what he claimed at least, but most thought he’d simply lost his mind.

  Benjamin Reznik was the stuff of legends. He sailed clear around the planet more times than any other man. Back then he was one of the few who was convinced that the Isle of Gods really was within our reach. Mortals were only just starting to suspect that the island was somewhere in the region that eventually became known as the Sacred Circle, a massive area in the middle of the ocean that was legendary. Once any vessel, whether plane or ship, approached the Sacred Circle all their instruments failed. Some would push onward anyway into this area plagued with massive storms and dense cloud cover. Many of them would vanish in those storms. Only a few were able to enter the Circle and come out on the other side with harrowing tales of survival. Some spoke of sea creatures that wrapped their giant tentacles around their ships. Others reported that their ships were nearly swallowed up by massive whirlpools or smashed by impossibly tall waves. Still others came out of the circle with no memories of ever having been in it in the first place. Their minds were wiped clean of anything that happened once they boarded their ships.

  Airplanes that attempted to fly over the area always disappeared. So many planes were lost that people stopped flying over it at all. Flight paths had all been diverted around it almost ever since we could fly. Satellite images of the planet always showed a mass of white impenetrable clouds in the area over the Circle. It was our biggest mystery.

  Philosophers started to speculate that this area of the planet contained the secrets of life. Why else would it be shrouded in so much mystery? A few brave explorers began making the trip to the Circle hoping that they would be the ones to finally unlock its secrets. By the time Reznik came around most had given up the idea of ever uncovering the secrets of the Circle, but he would not give up. He was sure that the gods that we all depended on lived there and he would do anything to meet them face to face. He thought that whatever that force was making the Circle so impossible to explore could be beaten with technology. He spent years building a machine that he called the Dream Maker because he said that if it worked it would make his dreams come true. He was convinced that it would protect his boat and crew from harm once they entered the Circle.

  The machine seemed to have almost work. Reznik’s boat and crew did vanish, but somehow he survived. Before he set sail with the Dream Maker, he held a press conference. I’d seen pictures from that day, his wild white hair standing up in all directions. He wore khaki slacks and a white button-down shirt and stood next to the Dream Maker, a large metal contraption that stood nearly as tall as he did. He smiled broadly and gave a thumb-up sign to the camera.

  I’d tracked down some of Reznik’s old journals so I could study the machine. Since it seemed to help him, I thought it might be useful if I had one myself. I wasn’t the only one who thought that. Various versions of the machine were available for sale for a while. Of all the sailors who had one not a single person was able to get inside the Sacred Circle because of it. From what I could see the Dream Maker was just a bunch of wires that meant nothing. It might have made a satisfying hum when Reznik turned it on, but the reality of the matter was that it didn’t do anything at all. It was the work of a madman who had beco
me obsessed with finding the gods.

  After that press conference Reznik and his crew sailed for twenty-five days before they completely lost contact with the rest of civilization. They entered the Sacred Circle, but like so many others did not come out. Reznik disappeared for months. Only a few others had even tried to get to the island back then. All who had gotten close vanished, so the disappearance of Reznik and his crew was hardly a surprise. The real surprise came when he was discovered nearly a year later, thin and frail on a remote island. The natives said that he had washed up on shore one day and they cared for him. When asked what happened to him, Reznik said that he’d been to the Isle of Gods, but he was so crazed that it was difficult to know what to believe. He claimed to have observed their daily lives, but when asked to describe the island and the gods he described the native people who had cared for him when he was injured. He talked in circles and contradicted himself. Reznik was ended up living out the rest of his days in a psychiatric institution. He died only a few years ago. I studied video interviews of his account of what happened to him in the Circle and even though everyone else thought he was insane I believed him. I knew that if he could make it to the Isle of Gods I could too.

  Before I stopped going out to sea I sailed on Raul Castillo’s boat. He was one of the few looking for the island that sailed from Seacrest. There were more people searching for the island now than ever before, but most left from farther north. We sailed into the outer edge of the Circle several times encountering storms that were stronger than anything I’d seen before. We never ventured straight into the Circle though because we had no idea of the exact coordinates of the island. Once we were inside we were sailing blind. We could pass within a mile of the island and never even know it. I thought the boats that disappeared all sailed right into the Circle hoping to stumble across the island. We were more methodical, exploring and mapping what we could in small sections. The less time spent in the Circle, the more likely we’d be able to get out. The farther into the Circle a boat went, the stronger the storm got. If anyone was likely to find the Isle of Gods again Raul was. That’s why it was so hard for me to decide to stop looking. I wasn’t hunting for the island anymore, but I still thought about it often.

  I knew the refrigerator was empty at home so I stopped at the grocery store. Lourdes always packed Tatiana’s food for the weekends and sent it with her. I guessed she thought I wouldn’t know what to feed her. To be honest, before this whole separation thing she would’ve been right, but now I was getting the hang of it. Tatiana kicked her legs and chewed on her fingers as she sat in the shopping cart while I stood in the freezer section tossing frozen meals into the cart. I noticed a short blonde with her arms crossed looking at me and shaking her head. “Why do the gods give all the healthy babies to the people who can’t care for them properly?” she asked her tall brunette companion.

  “Excuse me?” I said, looking directly into her eyes.

  She shook her head, turned, and walked quickly up the aisle.

  I wasn’t sure if she was saying that because of the state of my clothes. My shoes were caked with mud. My jeans were torn with black and brown streaks of dirt on them. The collar of my T-shirt was ripped and I had sweated through it, though it was dry now. I’d spent all day digging holes in some guy’s yard. I stood there silently for a moment looking down at the contents of my cart wondering if it was the frozen meals she didn’t approve of or maybe the bottle of vodka. “You love Daddy even when he needs a shower,” I said to Tati.

  “I lub Datty,” she said pointing at my mouth.

  I opened it and pretended to bite down on her finger. She giggled uncontrollably, showing her new white front teeth.

  The cashier stared at Tati the whole time she rang up my groceries. She was a plump woman who wore a pair of white bunny ears on her head. The ears moved on their own. I could hear the whine of their mechanics as they twitched.

  “Cool ears,” I said.

  The woman looked up at me and smiled. “I got them online,” she said.

  At one point she held up my meatloaf frozen dinner, looked at me, her bunny ears standing perfectly straight with the satiny pink middles angled toward me, and asked, “Single father?”

  “We’re just taking a break for a little while.”

  She put the dayglow orange box in a bag and said, “Single father.”

  “She’s going to take me back,” I said.

  “What did you do?” The register beeped as she scanned a chicken and rice dinner and one of her bunny ears flopped down halfway.

  “We’re getting back together.” This was none of her business, but for some reason I felt like if I convinced her it would be true.

  The cashier let out a tiny huff of air and started putting my frozen dinners into bags. “You best learn how to cook.”

  I started to speak, but she wasn’t done yet.

  “Maybe she’d be more willing to take you back if you could cook. It’s nice to have a man cook you a delicious dinner after you’ve been on your feet all day.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  She turned her attention back to Tati as I put the bags in my cart. “She’s just perfect.” Her eyes sparkled when she looked at her. “Hope my daughter has that kind of destiny ahead of her.” She looked back over at me. “She’s pregnant now.”

  “She’s brave. Not many people try anymore.”

  “Brave or foolish. I don’t know which.” She gave a little laugh. “You never know what the gods have in store for you, so it’s worth trying.”

  I nodded.

  Tati waved at the woman who hunched down drawing her shoulders in before waving back. “The gods must have something great in store for her.”

  “I sure hope so.”

  She held up her ring-shaped pendant and said, “From eternity to eternity and always.” Then she watched me. Her watery brown eyes locked on mine expectantly.

  I held up my hand to give a wave. “Always,” I said.

  She cocked her head drawing her eyebrows together. The bunny ears on her head twisted as if trying to locate the source of a noise. “Where’s your pendant?” she asked.

  “I forgot to wear it.”

  It was like a stone wall went up between us. “Sinner,” she hissed. Spittle flew from her mouth. “The gods should take that child away from you and give her to someone who can appreciate a blessing.”

  I scowled at her. “You have no idea whether or not I appreciate my daughter.”

  “If you loved the gods … if you were thankful you’d wear the pendant out of respect. You don’t just forget to respect the gods.” Her face twisted as she spoke.

  “Respect is the reason I don’t wear it.” I turned my back to her, giving her the middle finger as I went through the door. I thought I could hear her holler something at me as the doors slid closed, but I didn’t catch what she said. Frankly, I didn’t care. I didn’t have the time or energy for this. I’d spent all day working and just wanted to get home and get some rest. My life was none of her business anyway.

  Chapter 3

  There were eight children Tati’s age in the area and their parents came from miles around so they could play together once a month. This month that day happened to fall on my weekend. I didn’t mind. I liked to see Tati play with the other kids. Secretly I enjoyed the indoor playground almost as much as the toddlers. While the other parents supervised, I joined the kids in the ball pit. Only mothers came and when I sat down to talk to them they all looked at me with suspicion.

  “Where’s Lourdes?” one asked, furrowing her brow at me.

  “It’s my weekend,” I said.

  They all sat silently looking straight ahead and I wondered if Lourdes had told them that I’d cheated. I took a deep breath and started to speak, but decided against it. I wanted to tell my side of the story. I knew that probably wouldn’t fly with this group, so I kept my mouth shut.

  We passed my old haunt, The Tornado, on the way back from the play date and even
though I knew I shouldn’t have gone in, I did. I didn’t pass by there much anymore and missed seeing the guys that hung out there. It was still early so there was a chance that nobody I knew would be there, but it wouldn’t hurt to check. It would be good to talk to some folks, especially after getting ignored at the playgroup.

  Everyone turned and looked when I walked through the door. Everyone always looked when I was with Tati. I scanned the room. There were only a few people in the place. Only sorry-looking hunched-over bums drank at one thirty in the afternoon on a Saturday.

  Brenda stood behind the bar with her arms crossed. She had inherited The Tornado from her father ten years ago. “Look what we have here,” she said. “Who brings a perfectly healthy baby into a place like this?”

  I sat down at the bar. Tati stood in my lap her arms around my neck. “I just want a beer,” I said.

  “I don’t think I should give you one.” She shook her head and reached out to Tati patting her back. “Hi Tatiana.”

  Still keeping one arm around my neck Tati turned to look at her. “Hi,” she said before burying her face in my shoulder.

  “I got something for you.” Brenda reached under the bar and pulled out a jar of maraschino cherries. She fished one out with a spoon and handed it to Tati.

  Tati took the sweet cherry in her hand and bit into it. Sticky red juice ran down her chin.

  “Say thank you,” I said.

  “Dank coo,” Tati said.

  Brenda set a tall glass of beer in front of me.

  “I thought you weren’t coming around anymore. You remember that talk we had?” She leaned into me a little. Her long coffee-colored hair was pulled up messily like women do sometimes. I liked it when women wore their hair up exposing their necks and the delicate rise of their collarbones. Gold glitter clung to her cleavage. “Be good,” she said, catching me looking at her breasts.

  “If you don’t want people to stare you shouldn’t put glitter all over them,” I said.