The Island of Ted

by Jason Cunningham

  I spent the afternoon walking through my forest since nothing was on TV and there was a nice sea breeze. My internet connection had gone down during the night and still wasn’t up, so traipsing around my property sounded like a good idea. The island itself was much bigger than I had expected, based on the photos I was given on the mainland. Even still, the amount of foliage was enough to obstruct much of the view. I would break a good sweat just getting back to the ocean where my little home-built dock sat, awaiting some of Nako’s attention.

  It occurred to me that I hadn’t worked on my screenplay since I’d been on the island. Maybe that could keep me busy for a while. So I sat down at the computer and started a new scene.

  INT. HOUSE – NIGHT

  Warren poured himself a scotch and imagined a life where he wasn’t so lonely.

  I stared at the screen, which was now a commentary on my own life, and then highlighted the text and hit DELETE. Maybe I’d find my story later. After all, I wasn’t exactly in a rush.

  • • •

  It was early in the evening. I was standing on the dock and watching the gentle tide when from out of nowhere, a familiar noise hit my eardrums. I turned and saw the little boy walking among the trees! He was holding two coconuts and didn’t notice me.

  “Hey!” I shouted in full throat.

  He quickly darted out of sight and I took to running, this time in very loose flip-flops. Nevertheless, I was gaining on him! He may have been small and fast but I had the advantage of longer legs. He would have to face me this time and answer my questions.

  As I ran, the twigs and branches whipped across my upper arms and produced little micro-cuts, the kind that sting but don’t bleed much. I ran like my life depended on it, jumping to clear a fallen tree without missing a beat. After a quarter-mile, I slowed to catch my breath, then went back into a full dash. My heart was pounding so hard that I felt it throbbing against my chest cavity. Sweat poured from my head and my lungs burned like they were filled with boiling water! Still, I continued my pursuit, always keeping the boy in sight.

  After running after this kid for what felt like a good three miles, we reached a clearing and he took off, full steam, down a subtle embankment. When I crested the hill I stopped in my tracks.

  “What the…,” I said, trailing off.

  I had ran all the way to the southern end of the island. On the beach sat fifteen makeshift nipa hut cabins, built with bamboo trees and banana leaves. It looked like the remnants of a an abandoned tourist site.

  “What the hell is this?”

  There were at least twenty or thirty people, all Filipinos of varying age and gender, strewn about the beach. The kid I had been chasing was immediately tackled by another boy his age and they wrestled around a bit. He then jumped back to his feet and grabbed the arm of an older gentleman. The boy pointed a finger in my direction. Not knowing what to do, I walked down the embankment and was met by a friendly handshake.

  “Hello. My name is Rene,” said the older gentleman.

  “That boy is stealing from me.”

  “I’m very sorry. We didn’t know someone live on this island too.”

  “He knew,” I said. “I’ve been here for over four months. My house is less than three miles up that way. This island belongs to me. He stole from me before.”

  I was still out of breath, struggling to make due. Rene turned to the boy.

  “Manny, give this man back his coconuts.”

  The kid picked up the coconuts and brought them over. He dropped them at my feet.

  “His birth name is Manuel but we call him Manny after the boxer Manny Pacquiao, because he’s a scrapper. I’m very sorry about this,” Rene said.

  I suddenly felt badly for the kid, but was still in shock and a little irritated.

  “Never mind. Just keep the coconuts. I want to know why you are here on my island. No one is supposed to be here.”

  “We are refugees from Mindanao,” Rene said. “We arrive here by boat four weeks ago.”

  “Four weeks, huh?” I said with disdain.

  I then turned back toward the trail and began walking… and walking… and walking… all the way back to my house.

  I spent that evening once more reminding my real estate guy why I’d requested this island in the first place.

  “Yano, this is a major problem! You said nobody would be here. How could you not know? There’s like a whole village on the south beach! I don’t know… like refugees or something. Just get them off my island. Do it now! Thanks.”

  I slammed the phone back down on the counter and took a deep breath.

  • • •

  Flipping through the channels that evening I caught a re-run of CSI. Then, at the bottom of the screen, a news string began to crawl:

  “Relief sent to Mindanao… President Aquino asking for foreign aid…”

  I flipped to the local news feed from Manila and caught the full story. A female reporter said something in Tagalog and then a homemade videotape filled the screen.

  Two ten year old kids were playing near a fruit stand as the camera tried to become steady. The kids waved to the camera just as a CAR EXPLODED behind them! The camera was knocked to the ground as frantic people ran through the streets. Then sirens. Dead bodies could be seen from the sideways image behind a cracked lens.

  My heart sank to the floor. I felt like I’d just seen something that could never be erased from my memory – just like the news report that broke Delores’ fatal accident. Only this time I saw a dozen lives taken right before my eyes, including a group of happy Filipino children.

  I turned up the volume as the reporter began speaking in English, as they often did when dealing with serious news stories.

  “Military is being sent to the region along with Red Cross in an effort to return stability. Mindanao residents are now uneasy about the violence that struck an all time high two months ago when a church bombing killed dozens of families. Many have fled to other regions of the northern and western Philippine islands.”

  I immediately reached for the phone.

  “Yano, it’s Ted. Forget that last call. Yes, I’m sure. Goodnight.”

  CHAPTER

  21

  It was nightfall when I stepped into the clearing and saw the south beach village aglow from the light of a bonfire. Children danced around, playing with sticks they had fashioned into play swords. Various adults sat about, eating from wooden bowls and drinking water from coconut shells. The moon was very large in the sky, casting a serene glow over the beach. It was a lot to take in. It didn’t even look like the same island.

  My eyes then focused on a beige Red Cross tent to the east of the village. A pretty Filipino woman in a white doctor’s lab coat was talking to Manny. Her silky black hair was pulled up in a bun, threaded with a chopstick and a stethoscope hung from her neck. She looked to be in her late twenties and had a radiance about her that was very attractive. She touched Manny’s nose and he ran off to play with the other children. The woman’s eyes then moved to the children and a smile emerged on her face. Watching this mystery woman was intoxicating.

  “What is your story?” I asked the night air.

  The woman’s gaze then broke and she looked directly at me!

  I panicked and spun around, tried to walk away, then stopped. I was busted. She had already seen me. I turned back around to make eye contact with her but she was gone. My eyes searched the beach and found her at the bonfire, speaking to Rene. She pointed toward the clearing where I now stood.

  “Crap. Crap. Busted. Crap.”

  I let out a lengthy sigh and descended the dirt path to meet them on the beach. Several villagers turned to watch me approach. Rene walked out to greet me, wearing a big smile.

  “Hello, sir! I hope we have not disturbed you.”

  “No, it’s fine,” I said, groggy and reluctant.

  He offered a firm handshake once more.

  “I spoke to Manuel and he promised not to take your coconuts again.”


  “That’s great but listen… how about I make a deal with you guys. If I allow you to stay here for a little while can we agree that no one breeches my property?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I mean… for any reason at all.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “It’s just… I’m a very private man and would appreciate it a great deal if I could remain that way.”

  “Yes, sir. I will tell the others.”

  I let my eyes drift to the woman in the doctor’s coat. She stood near the bonfire and was curiously gazing at me. The children began tugging on her medical coat and she spoke to them softly in their native language.

  “Is that your daughter?” I asked Rene.

  He looked in her direction and smiled.

  “Oh, no. That’s Lanie. She came from Manila with a few medical people. They left shortly after but she stayed with us. I think she has no family, only her work.”

  “Well, I’m going to get back,” I said. “Thank you for understanding my situation.”

  We shook hands for the last time and I started back toward the path. I then heard Rene’s voice behind me, so I turned.

  “I promise to keep our deal and not enter the north beach as you request. But you are free to join with us anytime you want. Even just to eat something or sing with us crazy Filipinos.”

  I was moved by Rene’s hospitality, even if they were technically on land I had purchased. But we had made a deal and the south beach belonged to them for now, and that was that.

  “By the way,” I said before leaving. “I’m Ted.”

  • • •

  I sat at the computer at midnight, my hand cupping my chin. Chilled coconut water sat in a glass beside me. I wanted to get cracking on the screenplay but nothing would come out. I stood and walked over to the bedroom window and peered out over my back yard. I unlatched the door, letting it fall open – perhaps thinking I could hear what was happening on the south beach. But I only heard crickets and a breezy wind buffeting through the banana trees.

  • • •

  The front door swung open and Nako and I fell into the foyer with a couple of huge boxes. We lay on the floor and tried to catch our breath. The sun was especially hot that day and we had trouble with the heavier supplies, canned goods.

  “Nako, can I ask you for a favor?”

  “Shoot.”

  “Can you bring me something a little different next time… along with the usual?”

  Nako raised an eyebrow.

  I spent the next few days wondering if what I was planning was the right thing to do. Was I doing it for them or for me? Did I have ulterior motives? These were questions I didn’t think I’d ever ask myself again once I left the States. But I figured these people wouldn’t be here much longer so what was the harm?

  A week later, I moved down toward the south beach village, carrying a box on my shoulder. Several of the villagers were in the water with bamboo fishing poles. The door to the Red Cross tent was open and I saw Lanie inside, wearing that white medical coat. She was reading a book and didn’t look up to see me.

  The children, who were playing in the water, saw the box I was carrying and ran to me. Lanie looked over toward the commotion as I began handing the kids hand-held video games. Rene waved at me from across the beach. Manny was smaller than the other kids so he got pushed out of the way and was last in line. He stood there quietly, with his head down and his hand outstretched. I handed him the video game.

  “That’s called a Nintendo DS. I used to have one back in Chicago.”

  “Sorry I take your coconut, Mr. Ted.”

  The boy was growing on me. I rubbed his nappy head.

  “You’re a good kid, Manny,” I told him.

  He finally looked up and smiled.

  “Thank you for the game.”

  Manny then ran back to play with his friends. Rene approached me with a few of the older folks.

  “Thank you for bringing the toys. Or as we say here in Philippines, maraming salamat!”

  “I’ll try and remember that one,” I said, knowing I had no chance of remembering it.

  Rene turned to the others.

  “This my wife, Lynette and my brothers, Jose and Roro.”

  “Nice to meet you all.”

  I looked over toward the medical tent and saw Lanie observing us. Her eyes quickly went back to her book and Manny noticed me swooning. I made a fist gesture and he returned it with a goofy expression. I knew Lanie was Filipino but her face contained traces of something more mysterious and exotic, perhaps French or Portuguese.

  I stayed there all afternoon, talking to everyone and playing with the kids. Being around this particular group of people felt good. They made me feel important and treated me with hospitality. It made me think they’d show the same kind of hospitality if it was me that was living on their land, instead of the other way around.

  The villagers built a bonfire at nightfall and I sat on the beach, eating fruit. Manny plopped down beside me, full of energy.

  “You’re a very fast runner,” he said. “You almost caught me in the woods.”

  “I ran track in high school.”

  “I’m the fastest one here,” he continued. “Even the older kids can’t beat me.”

  “You like to run?” I asked.

  “Mr. Ted, can I ask you a question?”

  This kid doesn’t beat around the bush.

  “Um… sure.”

  “Do you like Dr. Lanie?”

  I nearly spit out my food.

  “What? Who? Did someone tell you that?”

  “I saw you look at her. She’s so very pretty.”

  “Well, not that I noticed but she’s okay,” I said. “But I’m not… no. I don’t like her that way. In fact, we’ve never spoken.”

  “You know, Filipino girls are different from American,” he said. “At least the ones I met in Mindanao.”

  “Yeah? How so?”

  “Hard to explain. My English is not so good.”

  “Your English is better than mine,” I added.

  “Not Lanie,” Manny said while shaking his head in exaggerated fashion. “She from Manila. We speak better English in the province. She might be smart but she struggle with English.”

  This kid was beginning to fascinate me.

  “You know,” he said. “When you speak to Lanie you should tell her ‘Mahal kita.’ It will impress her that you know that.”

  “Hey, I never said I was trying to impress… how do you say that again?”

  Manny began to enunciate, “Ma-hal. Ki-ta.”

  “Ma-hal. Ki-ta?” I clumsily repeated.

  “Very good.”

  “What’s it mean?” I asked.

  “It means ‘Nice to meet you’ in Tagalog. That’s her language. Say that when you first talk to her. She will like it.”

  I began to repeat those words under my breath several times before deciding to give it a shot.

  • • •

  One of those old-school kerosene lamps burned inside the medical tent so I figured she would, at least, be awake. The adrenaline began to surge a bit, giving me a healthy number of butterflies in my stomach. I stopped in the doorway of the medical tent and saw Lanie eating a piece of fruit while flipping through a magazine. I watched her for a moment. Her arms moved with feminine elegance.

  She looked up, startled. A long, awkward silence fell between us. Not a good start.

  “Mahal kita! I’m Ted.”

  Her eyes shot open and she quickly turned her head away. I was initially confused by what appeared to be a rather cold response and figured I had probably said it wrong.

  “Mahal… kita. I’m Ted.”

  This time I was careful to enunciate properly. She still wasn’t responding and, instead, kept her eyes on the bottom corner of the tent.

  “Sooooo,” I said in a nervous tone. “Rene told me you’re a doctor.”

  Lanie looked at me but I couldn’t read her expression. Her face was a
mixture of embarrassment and annoyance. I pointed toward the magazine on her little cardboard table.

  “Oh, you read National Geographic?” I said for no reason whatsoever. “Good taste. I enjoy a good periodical myself.”

  Lanie just stared at me. After a brief moment, she again turned away.

  “Well, it was nice to meet you,” I said. “I live on the other side of the thing… my name is Ted. I’m Ted. It’s what… people… call me.”

  She turned back to me.

  “La-nie.”

  Her tone was soft and unsure. A slight tremble.

  “La-nie,” I said. “It was a pleasure.”

  I stepped out of the medical tent feeling like the biggest idiot on earth. Am I now repulsive to women on an international scale? Why was she so quiet? Did I offend her? I heard Rene and his family laughing around the bonfire so I decided to join them. I sat down beside Roro, who was roasting a banana over the flame.

  Rene looked at me and said, “Ted, are you enjoying yourself here?”

  “It’s been fun,” I said. “Listen… what does ‘Mahal kita’ mean?”

  Lynette clutched her heart and then leaned on Rene’s shoulder with a romantic grin.

  “It means ‘I love you’ in our language,” he said.

  You could have kicked me square in the junk. My face began to get warm, that first tinge of heat brought on by massive embarrassment.