by Marx, J. A.
“I wish we could do more to help,” Sabio said. “We’re relieved you’re alive. And doing so well.”
So well? Arrested by his sincerity, she peered through her bangs at the sphinx. “What do you mean?”
Jase slipped the guitar case off his back. “Ize and I found you covered with algae and sand. Heart barely ticking. Isaac did mouth-to-mouth to revive you.”
Not breathing? Surprise swept through Hope at the seriousness of her condition. She thought she’d simply bumped her head and passed out.
Re-evaluating the alpha dog, she spoke with as much steadiness as her voice permitted. “Thank you, Isaac.”
Surviving adrift at sea while unconscious was a puzzle to explore later. Turning away, she resumed the investigation, blindly, dreading an encounter with more pain.
“Hey.” Isaac touched her shoulder.
Unworthy. Hope shook off his hand and walked faster. Her heart had no place to stow the kindness her island mates aggressively poured out.
She secretly hoped they’d never stop.
Giving Hope the space she appeared to want, Isaac became aware of the battle in his heart. His lazy side didn’t want to deal with female temperamental malfunctions, yet a deeper part of him regretted his inadequacy to help.
“Check this out.” Sabio bumped his elbow. “Found it near the falls.”
Isaac dragged his gaze from Hope to a golden beetle. “Why didn’t you tell me up there?”
“You were … preoccupied with descending Merhamet.”
Busted. Isaac had been too obsessed with preventing Jase’s flirting to notice anything else.
Akiko and Jase crowded in as Sabio flipped the inch-long gem over and revealed the engraving on the flat underside.
“It’s an ancient Egyptian charm symbolizing reincarnation and immortality.” Sabio may have been a computer geek, but his enthusiasm for history testified to his father’s influence. “These symbols however, aren’t Egyptian.”
Isaac’s interest in history started and ended with World War II. Nevertheless, this discovery impressed him as important. He pointed at the upside down question-mark cross. “There’s one of those etched into the wall by the deck.” He’d seen it that morning.
“Could mean questioning God. Possibly doubting His existence or power.” Sabio shook his head. “Like I said. The symbols have no historical link.”
Isaac touched the beetle’s shiny veneer. “You think it’s evil?”
Akiko pushed at him. “Get real. It’s a stupid rock.”
He gave the Asian a sharp look. “Are you defending this bug?”
“Are you obsessed with evil?”
“Excuse me?” Isaac lightly slapped him upside the head.
Akiko backed away. “Keep your stinkin’ hands off!”
Isaac forgave him for the accusation. But where had the antagonism come from? “Symbols represent ideas. Like crystal ball—”
“Scams!” Akiko huffed. “Ouija boards, tarot cards. I had a reading. They’re practical jokes.”
Isaac narrowed his eyes. “You? Had a Tarot reading?”
“A frat experiment. And my roommate consulted with Abe Lincoln through a séance.” Akiko wiggled his fingers at the sky. “Ooowaaa.”
Not Isaac’s kind of fraternity. He checked on Hope—hundred yards out and gaining—then turned back.
Sabio had squared up to the Asian. “Black magic. Sorcery. That’s all real, Kiko. And it’s danger—” A look of alarm bombed his face.
Before Isaac could question him, invisible wintery barbs pelted his own torso. He groped his chest for proof that he wasn’t going mad.
Jase’s eyes widened. “Why do I feel like I’m in a sci-fi movie?”
Shaking his hand as if stung, Sabio dropped the gem.
The strange vibes assaulting Isaac stopped.
Warfare. The beetle. The symbols. The hostility. They all made weird sense to Isaac. “My dad counsels people involved in witchcraft. He says it opens the door to spiritual attack.”
Warriors did not give in to psychological warfare. I am a warrior. Using his toe, he buried the pagan amulet in the sand before leading his friends across the beach.
Hope reached the northern bay ahead of her island mates. Through the thin grove of palms on her left, she saw a gray screen of rain drifting toward shore. Ominous thunderclouds, the beasts of the sky, advised her to find a cave soon.
“Slow down, Queen Amnesia.” Jase jogged up behind her.
Sighing away her self-pity, she consented to the musician’s non-threatening presence. He was the easiest to talk to of the four.
“Did the red chip bring back memories?”
She nodded, smoothing the odious token with her thumb as they walked.
“What were they?”
No way. Confessing her filth would only prove her ugliness to him. “It’s not worth sharing.”
“Every memory’s worth sharing. It’s part of you. Like a puzzle piece.”
“No!” She strangled him with a glare. “It’s not me. So shut up!”
His whole face gaped.
Chided by her own iciness, she softened. “I didn’t mean that.”
“I forgive you.” He sounded more startled than offended. “Don’t have to share anything if you don’t want.”
Great. He affirms me. Why couldn’t he just get mad like a normal person? Lowering her head, she shuffled along.
“Really.” He gently nudged her. “Sorry I pried.”
He’s unreal. Craving more of this humane connection, she vowed not to ruin it again.
Hope left the boys lounging inside the bungalow and climbed atop the metal railing on the back porch. Polishing the poker chip with her thumb, she debated its fate. Its familiarity made her want to keep it, yet she’d throw it away in an instant if she knew that would erase its accompanying squalor.
Hearing the porch door slide open behind her, she concealed the chip in her fist. Be nice, Hope.
Isaac. He probably came out to scold her for … whatever. Resting his forearms on the railing, he held open one hand full of sunflower seeds. “Want some?”
That awakened her appetite, but she wouldn’t fall for the butter-her-up-before-telling-her-off game. “No.”
He emptied the pile into his mouth and chewed loudly. Reaching out, palms up, he caught the pre-storm sprinkles. “I like rain.”
Had she misjudged his intent? She loosened her fist. “Me, too.”
“I like how it washes away the dirt and sweat built up after a hard day outside.”
“It’s cleansing. I guess.” Resisting another ugly attack, she repositioned her legs on the thin railing.
Turning toward her, the alpha dog jabbed her with a gaze so merciful it left a bruise. It was as if he hurt with her. “There’s another rain that likes to wash over us, Hope. It does the same thing nature’s rain does. Only it cleanses the deepest part of us. Our spirit.”
The poker chip slipped through her fingers. Grabbing for it, she lost balance.
Isaac’s outstretched arm blocked her fall. “I’ll get it.” He hurdled the railing and retrieved the token from the mat of sea purslane.
He climbed back onto the porch and took a piece of folded paper out of his back pocket. He handed it to her along with the chip. “Sabio copied this down for you. It was written by a guy named Job who needed hope.”
She waited until Isaac left before unfolding the page from Sabio’s journal.
If you put away the sin that is in your hand … then you will lift up your face without shame; you will stand firm and without fear. You will surely forget your trouble … Life will be brighter than noonday, and darkness will become like morning. You will be secure, because there is hope; you will look about you and take your rest in safety. You will lie down, with no one to make you afraid …
Job helped determine the chip’s fate. Hope flung it into the sand beyond the purslane. Rain pounded it into a muddy grave.
I did my part. Now to see if darkness cou
ld really become like morning.
Chapter 22
Isaac put his pocketknife to work on a piece of wood. Whittling helped him think.
Hope never used the tube of lipstick belonging to the owner’s niece, nor did she “fix” her hair—two untamed qualities that attracted him. What disturbed him had been her emotional dive after finding the red chip. The way she’d said I owe you for not leaving me here to rot linked her to the worthless debris she’d washed in with. He had hurt with her, intensely.
Hope came inside from the back porch and ambled past him. “I’m showering.”
Good. Not because she stunk, but because he wanted to compare notes.
The rain thumping the roof sounded like a thousand drumsticks beating rubber pads, loud enough to cloak conversation. He convened the Foursome around the dining table.
Next to him, Akiko quintuple folded a strip of paper into a mini triangle and taped it together. Across from him, Jase held up his fingers like goalposts, awaiting the paper football. Sabio stood nearby, juggling the hacky sack with his knees.
“Let’s hear it, Jase.” Isaac needed a good reason not to thrash his best friend for flirting at the falls.
Jase described Hope’s violent reaction when he’d mentioned the name Jesus, twice. “She looked scared as a crippled mouse in a cat’s cage. No wonder her memory ran away. I tried to cheer her up with candy.” Definitely a Simon’s remedy.
Justifying his friend’s good deed, Isaac whittled the new concern into the wood. Abdominal spasms.
Akiko finger-punted the football and missed the goal. “She actually told you she’s never heard of Christmas?”
Jase picked the triangle off his lap. “Or Easter.”
That’s crazy. Isaac added the alleged lack of holiday knowledge to his list of Hope-oddities.
“Impossible,” Sabio said. “You’d have to live in total isolation to have no familiarity with something that common. Couldn’t happen.”
Akiko connected his thumbs and erected his forefingers. “The girl sees and hears ghosts. If that’s not instability, what is? She fakes things to get attention.”
Rebuking him with a grunt, Isaac had expected Akiko to conquer his resentment by now. “Debate theme. Pretend she has been isolated from the world.”
“Supporting facts.” Sabio kept juggling. “On the hike to the falls, I questioned her about different religions. The Koran and other sacred literature meant nothing to her. She thought a mosque was something you wore over your face.”
Yet she’s too smart to be stupid. Isaac jotted that in his mental notes.
Jase flicked the triangle through the goalposts. “She’s never heard of Christmas or the Bible. Someone’s messed with her mind. Isolation.”
Hitler’s Youth camps. Isaac revisited a WWII term paper and the only example of isolation he knew. Boys removed from society. Indoctrinated. Weakness detested. Survival of the fittest mentality. Generosity and sympathy for the needy died out. No counter-balancing influences.
People who submitted to powers of darkness, like Adolf, lost moral judgment and a healthy conscience. Did that fit Hope?
Jase raised the goalpost. “I want to know what her oppressors did to her to make her so angry.”
Akiko punted, and the triangle bounced off Jase’s finger. “This is earth. Nineteen-ninety. What sort of fanatics would purposely keep somebody from knowing a holiday? Or a movie? Or pizza?”
Or a comic book.
“A-li-ens.” Sabio enhanced his robotic reply with sound effects. Not the scholarly response Isaac sought.
Jase collected the triangle from under Sabio’s stomping foot. “Evil people do stuff like that.”
“You mean cults?” Isaac flipped over the piece of wood and kept whittling.
Sabio had mastered hacking the sack. “Isolation still isn’t conceivable. Especially in a Westernized civilization.”
Although he agreed, Isaac couldn’t help arguing both sides. “Hitler tried—”
“Forget your moot debate.” Akiko flicked the ball. “Fact. Hope exaggerates everything. She even pretended not to know what an American coin was. And she pretended my game token was gold.”
Jase crumpled Akiko’s triangle and threw it at him. “Maybe she wasn’t pretending.”
She certainly wasn’t pretending with the comic book. Isaac had initially viewed her as awkward, dense, even a little screwy. Knowledge of her amnesia garbled that perception.
At this point, the off-the-wall isolation theory synched up with Hope’s lack of common knowledge. Why night hung on her like a cloak still needed explaining, and Isaac wanted to witness the abdominal attack evoked by the Name Mr. Fletcher proclaimed carried power.
Could she be faking everything? As much as he wanted to, Isaac couldn’t completely discount that theory.
Twiddling the knife between his thumb and forefinger, he speculated aloud. “She’s a spiritual hostage that needs to be set free. That’s why God brought her here.”
Sabio fumbled the sack. “Right. As if we’re spiritual Einsteins.”
Isaac had a feeling the scholar feared leaving his cerebral igloo of security. “If God is the Einstein your dad says He is, then we don’t need to be. Right?”
The Ivy Leaguer nodded slowly. “You think this vacation is our spiritual wake-up call?”
Pondering that question, Isaac inspected the crude canoe he’d carved. “When we were kids, we pretended to advance good and combat evil. What if that was practice for the real battlefield?”
They weren’t kids anymore. In a way, Isaac felt he hadn’t attained genuine manhood either. He suspected that transition required a nobly inspired heart. “My dad says we do most of our maturing during trials and hard times. I don’t know about you guys, but being around Hope is bringing up stuff in me I didn’t know was there. Both good and bad.”
Murmurs of agreement floated across the table.
If anyone laughed at his next idea, he’d slap ’em upside the head. “A spiritual warzone needs spiritual superheroes. I don’t know exactly what that means. But I believe we can make a difference in Hope’s life.”
Akiko gestured with both hands. “We don’t know this stranger, and you’re buying into her amnesia story, hook, line, and sink—”
“Get off it, Kiko.” Isaac laid aside his whittle work before he did something he’d regret with the knife. “Look at the woman locked up by chains of darkness. The one who wants and needs to be freed.”
Quivering at his own words, part of him feared confronting an invisible, unpredictable frontier. The spirit realm. Yet he aspired to become a radical kind of hero.
Understanding connected with his growing passion. “Having a nobly inspired heart means helping people who hurt. People in bondage to a spiritual enemy. Like Hope. God brought us here to reclaim the unseen territory evil has stolen.”
Isaac’s soul leaped at the promise of adventure. The superhero concept made him feel super alive.
Sabio finally scooted into a chair, completing their huddle. “Invisible battles begin in the mind and intrude on the heart. That much I’ve figured out.”
Isaac saw hesitation in his eyes. “Keep talkin’, Sabio.”
Leaning back, the scholar massaged his temples. “I neglected my lab partner, a fellow human, hurting and bound by the same chains of darkness I see on Hope. I’ve resolved never to ignore those signs again. I just wish … the spooky side of her would stop affecting me.”
Isaac leaned toward him. “Funny things happen on the Cay.” As Mr. Fletcher had warned them. “This is a fight we’d never take up on our own anywhere else. We can’t run from it here. We cannot escape our purpose.”
Across from him, Akiko sweated like mad. “You guys aren’t thinking straight. Hope isn’t right in the head, and you want to be comic book heroes.”
The former student hospitality rep was not himself, and Isaac was about ready to smack the Asian upside the head.
Sabio rolled the foot bag to the middle of the ta
ble. “Like it or not, Kiko, we’re stuck here. We’re entangled in a war we’re unqualified to fight. This is forcing us to search outside ourselves for wisdom—”
“Dude.” Jase flattened out the crumpled football. “Quit being so serious. Hope’s awkwardness is only a mask. She feels out of place. Why does becoming her friend require a war?”
Isaac frowned. “Define friend.”
Jase returned the frown. “I don’t mean it that way. I mean her personality’s awesome. Her contagious giggle even makes Sabio laugh.”
Akiko’s hands stopped fidgeting. “You did let GI Jane seduce you when she hung from that tree branch.”
Jase shook the paper football at him. “She’s not like that. I was suckered.”
“Or intoxicated.” Sabio swiped the triangle ball. “Your lust for excessive fun borders on a disorder. Don’t give Hope the wrong impression.”
“And your disorder comes from intellectualizing everything.” Jase grabbed for the triangle.
Sabio kept it out of reach. “People need balance. You need self-discipline before your fun turns into flirting.” He flicked the football.
Jase deflected it. “You’ve been accusing me all day. I simply said she needs friends.”
“How many healthy friends hand-feed Swedish Fish to a strange woman?”
If only Isaac could reenact the waterhole scene to validate Sabio’s point.
Jase put himself in the scholar’s face. “Book freak.”
The bungalow’s pipes yelped as the shower water turned off. The Foursome froze as if Hope might charge into the room any second. Naked and dripping.
At war. Isaac reclaimed rational territory and leaned toward the table’s midpoint. “Every time we discuss what Hope needs, we start to argue. We’ve gotta fight that. We’ve got to remember who we are and Who is in control.” He elevated a hand. “Hope needs our friendship. All in favor?”
Sabio and Jase raised hands.
“But …” Akiko’s hands laid low.