Island Boyz

by Graham Salisbury

  When he stepped out and the jungle opened into a huge bowl where he could look down, way, way down, he could see there three heads in the water, heads with arms moving slowly to keep them afloat, and a few bright rays of sunlight pouring down onto them, and when he saw this his stomach fluttered and rose. Something sour came up and he spat it out.

  It made him wobble to look down. He closed his eyes. His whole body trembled. The trail was no wider than the length of his foot. And it was wet and muddy from little rivulets of water that bled from the side of the cliff.

  The next few steps were the hardest he’d ever taken in his life. He tried not to look down, but he couldn’t help it. His gaze was drawn there. He struggled to push back an urge to fly, just jump off and fly. He could almost see himself spiraling down like a glider, or a bird, or a leaf.

  His hands shook as if he were freezing. He wondered: Had the dead boy felt this way? Or had he felt brave, like Starlene or Joe-Boy, or Mo, who seemed to feel nothing?

  Somebody shouted from below, but Vinny couldn’t make it out over the waterfall roaring down just feet beyond the ledge where he would soon be standing, cascading past so close its mist dampened the air he breathed.

  The dead boy had just come to the ravine to have fun, Vinny thought. Just a regular kid like him, come to swim and be with his friends, then go home and eat macaroni and cheese and watch TV, maybe play with his dog or wander around after dark.

  But he’d done none of that.

  Where was he?

  Inch by inch Vinny made it to the ledge. He stood, swaying slightly, the tip of his toes one small movement from the precipice.

  Far below, Joe-Boy waved his arm back and forth. It was dreamy to see—back and forth, back and forth. He looked so small down there.

  For a moment Vinny’s mind went blank, as if he were in some trance, some dream where he could so easily lean out and fall and think or feel nothing.

  A breeze picked up and moved the trees on the ridgeline, but not a breath of it reached the fifty-foot ledge.

  Vinny thought he heard a voice, small and distant. Yes. Something inside him, a tiny voice pleading Don’t do it. Walk away. Just turn and go and walk back down.

  “I can’t,” Vinny whispered.

  You can, you can, you can. Walk back down.

  Vinny waited.

  And waited.

  Joe-Boy yelled, then Starlene, both of them waving.

  Then something very strange happened.

  Vinny felt at peace. Completely and totally calm and at peace. He had not made up his mind about jumping. But something else inside him had.

  Thoughts and feelings swarmed, stinging him: Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump!

  But deep inside where the peace was, where his mind wasn’t, he would not jump. He would walk back down.

  No! No, no, no!

  Vinny eased down and fingered up some mud and made a cross on his chest, big and bold. He grabbed a leaf, stuck it in his mouth. Be calm, be calm. Don’t look down.

  After a long pause, he spat the leaf out and rubbed the cross to a blur.

  They walked out of the ravine in silence, Starlene, Joe-Boy, and Mo far ahead of him. They hadn’t said a word since he’d come down off the trail. He knew what they were thinking. He knew, he knew, he knew.

  At the same time the peace was still there. He had no idea what it was. But he prayed it wouldn’t leave him now, prayed it wouldn’t go away, would never go away, because in there, in that place where the peace was, it didn’t matter what they thought.

  Vinny emerged from the ravine into a brilliance that surprised him. Joe-Boy, Starlene, and Mo were now almost down to the road.

  Vinny breathed deeply and looked up and out over the island. He saw from there a land that rolled away like honey, easing down a descent of rich kikuyu-grass pastureland, flowing from there over vast highlands of brown and green, then, finally, falling massively to the coast and flat blue sea.

  He’d never seen anything like it.

  Had it always been here? This view of the island?

  He stared and stared, then sat, taking it in.

  He’d never seen anything so beautiful in all his life.

  Mrs. Noonan

  He’d seen Mrs. Noonan before, of course.

  She was his chemistry teacher’s wife. He’d seen her coming and going from their small faculty house. Sometimes he would see her working in her garden or carrying something in from her car or maybe just out walking with Mr. Noonan.

  But this time it was different.

  Billy Keiffer was in tenth grade—a freaky year, maybe even the freakiest year of his entire life so far.

  At his all-boy boarding school up in the island high-country, the air on a clear night was often cool and crisp.

  On this particular night Keiffer was out in the cow pasture hiding from Nitt and Johnson. He’d found a place just outside the fence that separated the school from the ranch that edged it. He’d flattened a square of tall grass and was lying on his back with his hands behind his head, thinking of ways he could get Nitt, and Johnson too, for that matter—make their lives as miserable as they’d been making his.

  Within ten minutes he figured he’d spent about enough brain cells on those two idiots. Forget them, he thought. My time will come, and when it does I’ll know what to do. Sooner or later Nitt will pay. Oh yeah, he’s going to pay, all right.

  Keiffer dozed a moment, then opened his eyes.

  Wow, he thought. Look at the stars. Look how incredibly many there are. Billions.

  He listened to the night.

  Only a few mosquitoes.

  Nothing moved, nothing at all; there wasn’t even a breath of breeze.

  He bolted up.

  What if someone came looking for him? They might. If Mr. Bentley went to his room for some reason. And he wasn’t there.

  Keiffer peeked over the tall grass.

  That’s when he saw . . .

  Oh.

  He hadn’t realized he was that close to the faculty bungalows. He stopped breathing.

  She was so . . .

  Close.

  Keiffer gulped in air. He felt his heart leaping up into his throat. His body trembled like a wet dog.

  Oh, oh, oh.

  The grassy spot was at the top of a small rise that sloped down toward the house. Not forty yards away, framed within the warm yellow square of a window, was Mrs. Noonan. And Keiffer could see perfectly.

  She must have turned the light on while he’d been thinking about Nitt, or maybe while he’d dozed off.

  She was reading.

  Keiffer sank down to where he could just see up over the grass.

  She was sitting at one end of a navy blue couch with her legs tucked up under her. A floor lamp illuminated her golden hair. Keiffer already knew her name was Julie. Mr. Noonan had told them that in class. Keiffer guessed she was about twenty-six, since Mr. Noonan was twenty-six. He’d told them that too.

  She smiled as she read, one hand holding the book, the other tucked into the fold of her evening kimono, just above her breast.

  Keiffer’s hands were more than trembling now.

  Shaking.

  It was an accident.

  Really. Being there looking into Mr. Noonan’s window at his wife was not something he’d come out here to do. He’d only wanted to get away from Nitt and Johnson.

  He had to leave.

  Now.

  But he couldn’t move. He couldn’t turn away.

  Mrs. Noonan took her hand from her kimono to swipe the corner of her eye with a finger. Whatever she was reading was making her smile and cry at the same time. She put her hand back where it had been, inside her kimono.

  The vision burned itself into Keiffer’s brain.

  The window.

  The blue sofa.

  Her glowing hair.

  Her hand.

  Mr. Noonan suddenly came into the room.

  Keiffer fell back into the grass. He got back up. He’d never seen Mr. Noonan
in his pajamas before. Not really pajamas, but a T-shirt and boxer shorts. Mr. Noonan stood behind the sofa with his hand on Mrs. Noonan’s shoulder. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head.

  Keiffer knew he should get out of there. What he was doing wasn’t right. But he couldn’t turn away from it, not in a million years.

  Mrs. Noonan looked up, smiling. She touched Mr. Noonan’s hand, took it and kissed it.

  Kissed it and pulled it down.

  Keiffer stumbled back. He scrambled to his feet and ran, his heartbeat slamming up in his throat.

  Three nights later in the dorm, Nitt and Johnson put centipedes in Keiffer’s bed, and in his roommate, Casey’s. Casey got stung and screamed like a girl. Keiffer ran out the door, thinking the place was infested.

  Nitt and Johnson were in the hall, laughing their heads off, rolling on the floor holding their stomachs.

  “You’re sick, you stupid freaks!” Keiffer shouted.

  Inside the room Casey screamed again.

  Johnson was rolling with laughter.

  Nitt, trying to stand, pointed at Keiffer. He was practically crying, he was laughing so hard. “You’re the freak, Keiffer. You’re such a fairy,” he said.

  Keiffer charged and slammed into him with his shoulder, knocking Nitt to the floor. Nitt landed flat on his back.

  “Ooof!”

  For a moment Nitt couldn’t breathe, the air knocked out of him. He sat and stared up in wide-eyed panic. His face started turning red.

  Johnson grabbed Keiffer by the neck and threw him out of the way. Keiffer hated Nitt, but he was terrified of Johnson. Keiffer once saw Johnson put a safety pin through the skin on his own arm, grinning at the guys who were watching him. He clipped the pin shut and wore it on his arm until it got infected.

  Johnson knelt and thumped Nitt’s back. A few long seconds later Nitt caught his breath and gasped.

  “You better start running, Keiffer,” Johnson said.

  Nitt struggled to his knees, his eyes cold. He staggered up, fat fists balled. He stood nearly a foot taller than Keiffer.

  “Stay away from me!” Keiffer shouted. They could kill him if they wanted, he didn’t care, just get it over with.

  Nitt grinned. “You’re gonna pay for that, homo.”

  Every door in the hall was open now, heads peeking out.

  Nitt struck so quickly that Keiffer didn’t even see it coming. The blow caught him on the side of his head. He stumbled back and fell. White stars speckled his vision and his ears rang.

  Nitt kicked him in the stomach and stood over him, a bomb ready to go off if Keiffer said one more word.

  Keiffer sat balled up, his hand covering his ear.

  Someone yanked Nitt away. All Keiffer saw was a hand grabbing Nitt’s shoulder and spinning him around.

  “That’s enough,” Casey said. “I’m getting Mr. Bentley.”

  Nitt shoved Casey away. “Don’t touch me, you faggot!”

  Casey backed away and ran down the hall.

  “Yeah, go get Mommy,” Johnson called after him.

  Nitt kicked Keiffer again. “You haven’t seen anything yet, Keiffie-babes.”

  Nitt and Johnson walked away as Casey banged on the dorm master’s door. Mr. Bentley wasn’t in.

  Keiffer waited three nights before sneaking out again. He waited until Casey was asleep. Casey always dozed off before lights-out, which was ten o’clock. He was one of those guys who could get straight As without opening a book almost.

  Keiffer crept through the bushes, staying in the shadows out behind the mess hall. His hands started to tremble with anticipation of what he might see. Mrs. Noonan lived with him now, in his mind. He could hardly think of anything else.

  He made his way around in back of the faculty bungalows. He found the grassy spot, still mashed down.

  But the light in the Noonans’ house was off.

  His hands stopped trembling. The fantasies began to fade. But he kept hoping.

  He waited fifteen minutes and was just about to leave when the light flicked on. And there, in the window, there, there . . .

  Julie.

  This time her kimono was loosely hung about her. Keiffer was stunned. What is this? What is this feeling, this monster feeling?

  He nearly had a heart attack when she came to the window, bent down, and looked directly at him.

  He froze, stupefied.

  But she was only unlatching the window so she could raise it an inch or two.

  She sat again on the couch with her book. She opened it and with her free hand gathered up the looseness in the kimono.

  Mr. Noonan didn’t appear this time. Keiffer stayed until she turned the light off, an hour or thereabouts.

  Nothing stirred in the dorm when he returned. Casey still lay as he’d been, facing the wall, dead to the world.

  Keiffer fell asleep at about two in the morning, after reliving every memory he could drag up about Mrs. Noonan.

  Julie Noonan.

  Beautiful Julie Noonan.

  A night later he went again. She was lying on the couch talking on the phone.

  When he went again two nights after that, the house was dark. He waited nearly an hour, but nothing happened. He knew he shouldn’t go there every night, but he couldn’t help it. The next night she was there, alone, reading.

  His favorite dream was that he was lying on the couch with his head in her lap, and as she read, she stroked his hair and his cheek, leaning down every so often to kiss him. He dreamed about her when he was outside her window. He dreamed about her before falling asleep, and sometimes even had real dreams that were wilder and better than his daydreams. He dreamed of her in the mess hall when he was at lunch or dinner, looking across the tables to where she sat next to Mr. Noonan.

  He went out again that Sunday night.

  He could have avoided trouble if he’d been even half alert, but everything around him was consumed in a blur of anticipation.

  He was passing behind the mess hall.

  “Fairy,” someone whispered from the darkness.

  He immediately dropped to a squat.

  “Yeah, you, Keiffie-babes. What you doing out here?”

  Keiffer saw an orange-red glow of light.

  A cigarette.

  No, two cigarettes.

  “Come here,” Nitt whispered.

  Keiffer stood and walked toward the back of the mess hall. He saw two shadows with red glows leaning against the side of the building.

  Johnson and Nitt.

  Keiffer squinted. It looked like Johnson was scanning the stars with a pair of binoculars.

  “Come on,” Nitt said. “We don’t bite.”

  If he ran, he might make it back to the dorm before they caught him. But maybe not too, and if he did run, and they did catch him, it would be worse than just doing what they said.

  Panic flared up and inhabited Keiffer’s entire body. What if they’d seen him sneaking around before and had been waiting for him? He didn’t think they had, but it was possible. Or were they just out stealing a smoke? He’d have to be way more careful in the future.

  Nitt and Johnson got up and stood sucking their cigarettes, the embers glowing, then dimming. Nitt flicked his away. It twirled into the darkness and vanished.

  “Come closer,” he said, softly.

  Keiffer took a step.

  “Two bits says you were on your way to the pasture, huh? Going out to run naked in the night.” He chuckled. “That right?”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  He turned to Johnson. “You hear that? The fairy just came out here to go nowhere.”

  Johnson said nothing, still studying the stars with the binoculars. He sucked his cigarette. “Look at that,” he said.

  Nitt glanced up. “Satellite.”

  “Closest thing to a UFO we’ve seen yet.”

  Keiffer saw the white pinprick moving across the sky in a pure, clean arc.

  Johnson put the binoculars down. “I heard they do
that, you know, run naked . . . the fairy guys.”

  Nitt snickered. “That’s really it, isn’t it, Keiffie-babes?”

  Keiffer said nothing. He should have run when he had the chance.

  He bolted.

  But they were just as fast.

  Nitt grabbed his T-shirt. Keiffer tried to squirm away but Johnson was all over him. They threw him to the ground, facedown, and sat on him.

  Nitt whispered in his ear. “Where you going, homo? The party’s just warming up.”

  They turned him over. Nitt unbuttoned Keiffer’s jeans and yanked them off. Johnson pulled his T-shirt up over his head and threw it into the weeds.

  Nitt, sitting on Keiffer’s knees, said to Johnson, “You pull off his underpants. I ain’t touching it.”

  Johnson grinned. “Stand up, faggot.”

  Keiffer sat, then got to his feet.

  “Take ’em off,” Johnson said.

  Keiffer stared at Johnson. I won’t cry, he willed, won’t, won’t. He bent over and removed his underwear. The burn in his throat swelled. Cry, cry. He crammed it back down inside him.

  “Throw them on the roof,” Johnson said.

  Keiffer tossed his underpants up on top of the mess hall.

  “Cute,” Nitt said to Johnson.

  “Thanks.”

  It was dark. So what if he was naked? He could make it back to the dorm without being seen. Just wait, and run when the chance came.

  “Hold this little pecker’s arms up over his head,” Nitt said, whispering, trying to keep his voice down.

  Johnson grabbed Keiffer’s wrists and pulled his arms up.

  “Ow!” Keiffer said, trying to wiggle free.

  Johnson kneed Keiffer in the butt, and Keiffer stopped.

  “I need your weed,” Nitt said, taking the cigarette from Johnson’s lips. He took a deep drag on it, the tip red-hot. Then he pointed the small fire at Keiffer’s face. He grinned, then moved the burning tip down to Keiffer’s armpit. He held it so close Keiffer could feel the heat.

  “You tell anyone we did this to you and we’ll make this part real. Can you imagine it? The stink of burning flesh? The pain in your foul armpit?”

  Keiffer said nothing.

  “You understand, Keiffie-babes?”

  “Yes,” Keiffer squeaked.