A Change of Plans (21 page)

CHAPTER 21

I
THOUGHT WE
did a good job making our case, but it was the combined efforts of Lua and Etano that convinced Moli and Isaac, the two in charge, to let us come with them. The next day we were packing the four canoes.

I would get to see Elle and my family again.

Lua and Etano sailed with Braedon in their boat, while I went with Moli and his younger son, Kalolo. It was logical to split up the inexperienced passengers.

As we pulled away from the shore, the sky turning pink as the sun peeked over the horizon, a strange feeling swept through me. I couldn’t wait to leave the place, yet as I watched the early morning breeze flutter the vines that led to the lagoon, my heart twisted. This had been our first home, the place where Braedon and I had become a family.

I glanced at his boat. He was watching the receding island as well. I wondered what he thought about leaving. He twisted back toward me and met my gaze. Eyes glittering, he smiled at me and then turned to answer a question from one of the boys.

Moli and Kalolo were seasoned sailors, and we pulled away
from the island in no time. The farther we got from land, the more my hands shook.

“You okay, Lyn?” Moli asked after we cleared the hardest part of the current that drove the crashing waves into the beach.

I took a deep, calming breath and forced my hands to unclasp, trying hard not to think of my nightmares. “I’ll be fine.”

He squinted at me over his shoulder. “Why did you go on a cruise if the water frightens you?”

“It didn’t used to scare me.” I shifted to drumming my fingers on the supplies stored between my feet, trying not to notice how close the deep water was. “Until the sharks ate Jimmy.”

Kalolo choked from behind, and Moli turned around to gape at me, both of them pausing in their strokes.

I continued, my eyes burning, “We had to bury him at sea, and then sharks showed up. I’ve had nightmares about it ever since.” All the talking I had done with Braedon about it hadn’t made them go away completely. I scanned the huge expanse of ocean around us, rocking in my seat. “I’m hoping this trip will help me face my fears.”

“Those monsters left so many scars,” Moli mumbled, his voice gruff.

Grateful for the distraction, I focused my attention on Moli. “Were all the pirates captured? What happened to them?”

Moli gave me a gleeful look. “They caught them all, and everyone got life in prison.”

T
HE WEATHER,
which had been decent since the squall that had ruined our outrigger, became stormy on the third day out. As
the water got choppier and the clouds darker, images of our last tropical storm on the catamaran flashed through my mind. Had we really begged them to bring us along?

Moli and Kalolo began what became a personal battle with the ocean, fighting against the waves to keep us upright. Between the pelting rain and swells, we lost sight of the other boats, and a sense of dread filled me. I told myself not to make too much of it, that it was my inexperience which frightened me ... but then I intercepted a look Moli exchanged with Kalolo.

“Oh, God,” I prayed, my hands turning cold.

Moli swiftly reached in front of him—almost without any change in his rhythm—and pulled out something he tossed back at me. I grabbed it just before a wave caught it; it was a small bucket. My heart sank, and I went to work bailing out the water.

The rain, wind, and waves were like a curtain that kept us cocooned alone in our own little world. I’m sure it was only Moli’s and Kalolo’s superb seamanship that kept us afloat.

Between scoops, I tried to spot the other boats, to spot Braedon. I needed to see him.

My arms and back ached. Dip and scoop. I forced my arms to keep moving. Dip and scoop. My burning muscles made a mockery of my hope for this trip to fix my fear of the water.

I didn’t notice when the rain slowed to a drizzle and the waves grew smaller. My hazy mind continued to make my arms follow their painful, mechanical rhythm. I stopped only when Moli’s shaking hands reached back and gently pushed my hands down. With bleary eyes, I looked up.

In the dim light of the crescent moon, I couldn’t see the other boats. We appeared to be alone. The sound of my heartbeat pulsed in my ears; my eyes stung. Where were the
others? I pressed my arms against my stomach. Surely we hadn’t managed to survive pirates and a shipwreck only to die while being rescued.

No. The storm had just separated us. They hadn’t gone down.

Moli pulled a whistle from under his shirt and blew a loud blast. After the roar of the storm, its shrill sound stabbed my brain. He waited a minute, listening. When he heard nothing, he blew it again and paused to await a response. After the third blow, we heard an answering whistle far away. Hope rushed back into me.

Moli changed his sequence and blew two blasts, repeating this every minute or so.

Kalolo leaned toward me and whispered, “It’s our signal. He’s giving them directions, and the two blows identify us. They’ll come to us.”

I sat, exhausted, massaging the aching muscles in my arms and trying to ignore the sick feeling of worry in my gut.

At last, we saw the faint outline of an outrigger in the dim moonlight. Kalolo called out, and someone from the boat shouted back, but they were too far for us to understand. We had to wait for a few more of Moli’s whistle blows before we could identify Isaac Patu and two of the boys. It was such a relief to know they were safe, yet my stomach twisted as I scanned the horizon and saw no sign of another boat.

While they made their way to us, the shrill sound of another whistle from the other side reached us. My heart sped up again. Moli continued his regular whistle blows as we waited for the third boat to reach us.

As it approached, we could see something was wrong, which explained its slow progress. When they were close
enough for us to understand their shouts, we saw it was two fathers, Eli and Sila, with the youngest boy in the group, Ieti. As Moli continued his now strained whistle blowing, Isaac pulled his boat along Eli’s, and they went to work to fix the damage.

Moli persisted with his blowing, and I learned how a whistle could reflect the stress of the blower. The sound grated on my nerves.

They completed the repairs, and our vigil continued. The others sat silently in their boats, keeping alert between Moli’s blasts, sometimes searching hopefully. Still Moli blew his whistle.

The rain had stopped and the sky had cleared when Eli brought his outrigger closer to ours.

“What?” Moli growled, refusing to look at the other father. Moli blew the whistle again.

Eli’s face was somber. “How long should we wait? If they haven’t answered by now, they can’t. We need to get help.”

Moli paused for a moment and then slumped. I heard a sob from Kalolo. Isaac, whose son Etano was in the missing boat, started to argue with Eli.

A roaring filled my ears, and an odd mixture of numbness and a sick, stabbing pain swirled in my chest. Everything around me took on that horrible nightmare quality I knew too well. It couldn’t be real. I had to be in the middle of a nightmare. The boat would come, and we would all laugh at how scared we had been.

I barely noticed when Eli convinced the other two fathers, and they all went to work to persuade Moli. He finally surrendered. “We’ll go get help.”

“No!” I shouted. “Their boat’s a little more damaged, that’s all. It’s just taking them longer to get here.”

Moli turned haunted eyes to me. “If that was the case, they would have returned my whistle calls. The best we can do now is to get others out looking for them.” He twisted back to the front, took his oars, and began to pull methodically through the water. Behind me, crying softly, Kalolo did the same, matching the rhythm of his strokes to his father’s.

Shaking my head in denial, I wondered again how Braedon and I could have lived through so much only for this to happen. But then I thought of Maria, who had survived only to die on the rocks. The burning in my eyes intensified.

I would wake up at any moment. Braedon would have his arms around me, comforting me as he always did.

But the nightmare didn’t end.

T
HE NEXT
day went by in a blur. All I could remember was the quiet and the rowing. Kalolo had stopped crying. I dozed off and on.

I don’t know how those men and boys did it. After the dreadful battle with the sea, they rowed through the night and into morning of the next day, fueled by their desire to get help.

They understood what I didn’t. We were close enough to the shipping lanes where help could be close. The sun shone near its peak when they spotted a yacht on the horizon. I should have experienced a rush of excitement to see the vessel, but I felt nothing. All my emotions had been encapsulated within the hard knot in my stomach. I didn’t dare let them loose until I knew what I was allowed to feel. I refused to accept that it could be grief.

One of the boys pulled out a large piece of bright fabric and waved it while Moli blew his whistle again. It didn’t take long for the yacht to notice us.

When we drew abreast of it, Moli called out, “Can we use your radio? We’ve lost a boat with three men and need to call for help.”

An older middle-aged couple stood beside three crewmembers—one of whom pointed a rifle at us. When the wife saw me in the boat, she leaned into her husband and said something we couldn’t hear. He nodded and a crewman put a ladder over the side.

Moli boarded first. As I rose to follow him, the woman’s eyes widened when she saw my breechcloth and top. I overheard him say something to the woman about me being stranded. She inspected me with sympathy and reached to help me up into the yacht.

“You poor thing.” She put an arm around my shoulders. “Come with me, dear. I’ll get you something decent to wear.”

As I let her pull me into the main cabin, Moli turned to help the others onto the boat.

“I’m Norma.” The woman picked up a throw from the sofa and wrapped it around my shoulders as she pushed me into a chair. “What’s your name, dear? How long were you lost?”

“Lyn.” My eyes followed Moli, who stood using the cockpit radio. “We’ve been stranded over two years.”

The woman made some sympathetic noises as she worked at her bar. I leaned forward, wishing I could hear what Moli was saying. Norma brought over a glass of juice and some crackers, but Moli had finished on the radio and turned to speak to the man I guessed was Norma’s husband.

I stood, dropping the throw. “Excuse me.” I went to the cockpit.

Moli and the others had decided to go back and search.

“I want to come.”

With sad eyes, Moli shook his head. “No offense, but you’d be a liability. The stormy season is starting early. We saw some of it yesterday, and we don’t have much time before another big one is due. We’ve called the Coast Guard for help, but it could take hours for them to get this far out.”

“I can’t just leave ...,” I whispered. The knot of emotions in my stomach tightened further.

Moli wouldn’t look at me, and Norma took me by the shoulders, trying to direct me to a cabin. Her husband joined her, standing at my other side, as I watched my new friends board their outriggers and row away.

Abandoned, I found I no longer had the will to resist and let them guide me to a small cabin. Norma pointed out the shower, but I crawled onto the narrow bed, turning my back to the door.