Air (21 page)

We walked back up the bank to the road, Lily illuminating the way with Seb's flashlight and Seb carrying his spare tire, which he was going to leave as a marker, so he'd know where the truck left the road, in case we had to walk miles before picking up phone reception. He placed it on the edge of the carriageway and we heard a scratching noise behind us.

Lily shone the torch and there, grievously injured, was my victim. Not, as I had thought, a baby alligator. Some sort of lizard. I had run right over its tail and there was blood. It seemed dazed, but as we walked nearer it began to come around, hissing violently, its red mouth gaping.

It appeared to want to run away but had trouble moving.

“Shit, I'm sorry,” I said to it. “I didn't mean to hit you, lizard.” Then, “Lily, it's really hurt. It won't die, will it?”

“Tegu,” Seb said. “Invasive species. Those little guys eat a million bird eggs before they're through living. You just did the Everglades a favor.”

“Well, not really. It's still alive,” Lily said, kneeling from a safe distance to look at it.

“It might be all right,” I said. “Do you think it'll be OK?”

“Are you kidding me?” Seb said, trying to stick his hands in the back of his suit trousers and realizing there weren't pockets there.

“It can't even walk,” Lily said. “This is no place for animals that can't run, let alone walk. Some alligator's probably got a nice breakfast coming his way.”

“Bloody hell, Lil! I don't want it to be eaten alive. That's well harsh.”

“What do you think it does to other animals?” Seb said. “What we have here is basically a sociopathic killer.”

“It's suffering. Look at it,” Lily said. “Poor little thing. Maybe it was just out getting some food for its baby tegus.”

Seb scoffed at this sentiment and I tried to focus on his sociopathic killer comment.

“Tell me what to do, and I'll do it,” I said.

“I guess put it out of its misery,” Seb said.

“Kill it? We can't kill it. I was thinking we get it to a vet.”

“You've sort of half-killed it already,” Lily said.

“Yeah, we're gonna have to go the whole nine yards.”

“Bloody hell, Seb!”

“It's gonna die anyway,” Lily said. “Why put it through more pain?”

“Then you'll have to do it, Lil,” I said.

“Why should I? You knocked the poor thing down.”

“You have previous form. Remember you killed a frog that time. With your bike.”

“That was an accident. Seb will do it, won't you? You'll be better at it than we will.”

“What because I'm Cuban?” Seb said, eyes wide open.

“No. That wasn't what I meant at all,” Lily said, looking awkward.

I knew what she meant. What she meant was,
You're a boy with decent arms, so you'd probably be better placed to wring its neck or whatever needs doing
.

But that didn't exactly sound great either, so I said, “Haven't you killed rats and stuff?”

“I'm living in a house with rats?”

“No. No! I just heard that they have a lot of rats in Florida.”

Then I had a brainwave. What I thought was a brainwave, but actually turned out to add insult to injury. “I thought you lot went shooting ducks and stuff.”

“
You lot?
What does that even mean?”

“You know, Americans,” Lily said, backing me up. “Like Dick Cheney.”

Seb looked horrified. “I am not Dick Cheney.”

“Well, look,” Lily said, “there's no good way to say this, but do you have a gun in your truck?”

“A
gun
? Uh, who exactly do you think I am?”

“Trust us to find a man in the two-thirds,” Lily said, rolling her eyes at me. “How about a knife?”

“Jesus-fuck, lady! No, I don't have a knife. How about you go find a rock,” Seb advised her, walking a few paces down the road, his back to us, as if he really, really didn't want to see this little tegu get a lethal dose of rock medicine. Not that I did either, but
the situation was excruciatingly awful and had to end. “Do me a solid, yo, and make sure you hit it hard.”

Seb checked his phone, which had thankfully picked up a weak signal, and he made the call to roadside assistance.

“Recovery vehicle should be here within six hours.”

“What? That's ages! We can't stay here that long.”

“There's been some kind of pile-up. Not my idea of a fun time either,” Seb pointed out.

We looked around, sweeping the area with torchlight to see if there were any rocks that would do the job, but we couldn't find a stone bigger than a tangerine, which didn't seem capable of inflicting the sort of damage required.

“Seb,” Lily called down the road to his retreating form.

“You done it yet?”

“We can't find any good rocks.”

He said something in Spanish under his breath.

“Keep looking.”

“We've looked. There aren't any big ones.”

“Awesome,” he said, walking back toward us.

He stroked the stubble on his chin in a meditative way.

“Your shoes have a stiletto heel?”

I hadn't taken my shoes off, because even though they were undeniably stupid and wobbly, the tarmac was tacky and would stick to the soles of my feet. Lily's shoes had spongy platform soles, which wouldn't exactly serve our purpose.

I looked at the tegu's tough leathery skin and then at my flimsy shoes.

“Go on, Iris,” Lily said. “One good whack.”

I went so far as to take a shoe in my hand, but I just couldn't.

“Won't work,” I said, even though it might have. I was furious with myself that I didn't seem to have it in me to end the suffering of an animal that was clearly in pain.

I heard Seb cursing but couldn't make out the distinct words.

“What are our options?” Lily said. “I guess we could grab it by the tail and swing it at a tree a few times?”

“Lily! No! Look at its little face. It's trusting us.”

As lizards went, our tegu was pretty beautiful, with its spotted markings and elegant feet.

“Hang on,” I said.

I walked to Seb's pile of belongings, every millimeter of my body running with sweat in the humidity and my slinky dress sticking to me like cling film. I grabbed Seb's jacket, along with a roll of duct tape he had in his toolkit. I wasn't exactly sure what I was going to do with the duct tape, maybe tape a splint to the tegu's tail if it would let me. This admittedly seemed unlikely, but I didn't have any better options.

When I got back, Seb was staring at the tegu, his mouth a hard line, maybe gearing himself up for an act of merciful death, and Lily was on her knees again, talking to it.

I walked up to the tegu and threw Seb's jacket over it. It went bananas and started fighting, but I got it under my arm, and, using every ounce of my strength, held on to it.

“Tape,” I shouted to Lily. “Get the bloody tape before it has my hand off.”

Lily picked up the duct tape from the tarmac and looked at me dopily.

“Wrap it round its mouth, Lil!”

She had a good go, I had to give her that much, but the tegu had found its last resources of fight and was giving it everything it had. It wouldn't keep still for long enough for Lily or Seb to get anywhere near its mouth.

“It's not working,” she shouted.

Finally Seb took the roll and wound the tape over his jacket and around the tegu, which instantly soothed it.

I looked at him, then I looked down at the tegu wrapped in his jacket and couldn't think of a single thing to say except, “Lil, please don't put this on Facebook.”

Any attraction that Seb had ever had to me, and me to him, had well and truly evaporated, and Lily started giggling.

The tegu made a weird noise.

“This shit is so messed up,” Seb said.

I said, “Pass me my phone.”

There was only one person I could call. My mum was in a different country and all she'd be able to do was stress me out. Zeke wasn't an option, and Saskia was still annoyed with me, so I called the person who had a reason to keep this quiet.

I had to call Anders five times before he picked up.

“You havin' a giraffe, Iris? It's the middle of the bloody night.”

“So sorry. But, it's a um emergency. There's been a car crash.”

“Zeke all right?”

No great surprise to hear Anders prioritize Zeke.

“Zeke's not here.”

“He's not? Well, thank God for that. Wait, whose car are you in?”

“Seb's. And it's a truck.”

He paused.

“Am I supposed to know who that is?”

“A boy I know. A friend.”

“
A boy you know?
I thought you didn't have any friends outside of Cornwall. That's what Zeke said.”

I couldn't believe Zeke would say that. No matter if it was true.

“My sister's here too.”

“So it's your sister's chap?”

Anders seemed to be getting sidetracked from the point I was trying to make, which was:
For God's sake, help me out here.

“No, it's just a lad I met in Miami.”

“And you went off with him in his truck? I see. You know, messing around with another bloke was not quite what I had in mind when I asked you to watch Zeke like a hawk.”

“I'm so sorry, Anders. It's really not as bad as it looks. But we need a lift. Seb's truck is out of action.”

“So get a cab.”

“We're too far outside of Miami for a cab.”

“What? Where the hell are you?”

“I'm not totally sure, but it's somewhere in the Everglades.”

“What did you just say?”

“Everglades.”

“What the FUCK are you doing in the Everglades?”

“I just really wanted to see it . . .” I said, completely aware of how pathetic I sounded. “I'll put you on to Seb.”

I stood there, mortified, as Seb did his best to give Anders directions. He handed the phone back to me.

“I took a cab from the airport, so I'll have to borrow a car. It's gonna take me a few hours to get there,” Anders said, “so stay put and don't go wandering off anywhere.”

A few hours would be torture, but by this point I was too exhausted to argue. “Thank you. Also, can you bring some water? Enough for all three of us.” I didn't want to push my luck by asking for snacks.

Anders didn't answer that. His mind was already on to something else, “Now, for Christ sake, don't go calling Zeke. As far as he knows, you're tucked up in bed in a massive huff with him. Got it?”

“But he's bound to hear about this sooner or later.” A car crash seemed like too big a thing to keep hidden.

“He won't. I checked him into the Fontainebleau, and he thinks you're at Lily's hotel, since you told him you needed some space. When you mentioned a car crash, I assumed you'd sorted things out with Zeke and were with him. Obviously not.”

“Oh.”

I couldn't help wondering if Zeke was alone in that hotel room in the Fontainebleau.

“Really sorry about all this, Anders. Thanks for coming to the rescue.”

Then, completely exhausted, I put my arms around my knees, sat down next to Lily, and thought about the time I went to Hawaii with Zeke. If only I could turn the clock back, I thought, to before it all went wrong.

On the Big Island, we'd juddered down a dirt track on the way to see Zeke's grandfather. The countryside was rugged and black with only a few houses and thorn trees to punctuate the desolation.

“I didn't realize Pop lived so close to the volcano,” I said.

“Yeah, his house is basically in the middle of a lava field.”

“And he likes it here?”

“Sure. He digs the isolation.”

“What if lava popped up and swept away his house?”

“This is Lava Zone 2, so that probably won't happen.”

“But it could happen?”

“No one can predict lava, and there are three active volcanoes on this island.”

“Why on earth does he live here then?”

“It's his home. Just like Oahu is mine. Just like Newquay is yours.”

Eventually we came to a house that had been constructed on poles. “Termites,” Zeke said, before I could ask him about it.
“Termites are a huge pain in the ass here, and Pop has a thing for wood.”

“A thing for wood?”

“You'll see.”

He parked up and I expected someone to come out to greet us, but all was still and silent. The whole front of the house was open, without even a wall between the armchairs and the great outdoors. I'd never seen anything like it.

We went up the steps and looked around, Zeke pointing out homemade pieces of furniture made from exotic woods like acacia, coconut and koa, but there was still no sign of Zeke's grandfather. I was starting to worry that we'd find him dead in his bed or possibly the victim of some terrible crime. We walked through to the back of the house and stood on a balcony that Zeke called a lanai. In the yard was a brownish green pool, and in that pool, floating on his back, surrounded by koi carp and eye-wateringly naked, was Zeke's granddad.

“POP,” Zeke shouted, not seeming at all bothered by this spectacle. Pop's ears were submerged and he didn't move a muscle. His eyes were wide open as he surveyed the morning sky.

Zeke took my hand, guided it down into the water and sent some small waves across the pool.

The water was really warm. “Geothermal pond,” he said.

The ripples hit the side of Pop's face and he righted himself and stood up.

He saw Zeke and saluted, the same sloppy salute that Zeke so often used. It felt strange to see it, to understand where it originated.

“Hey, it's my favorite grandkid!” Pop said, with a huge grin.

“You say that to all your grandkids. Want this?” Zeke said, holding up the goldfish-print towel that Pop had left folded at the edge of the pool.

“I think I oughta, seeing how you've brought a lady.”

I smiled. “I'm really not much of a lady,” I said, without fully considering the implications Pop might draw from this sentence. “Uhh, I mean, I don't have much in the way of airs and graces,” I added, blushing and turning away.

“A regular Ursula Andress, ain't I?” Pop laughed.

“Is it safe to look yet?” I whispered to Zeke.

“Sure,” Pop said, with the hearing of a bat. “But, you know, it was safe to look before the towel. You kids hungry?”

“Starving,” I said.

“Right this way.”

Because of the cost of groceries on the Big Island, which were mostly imported and super-expensive, Pop tended a garden.

“I planted everything; even hauled in the dirt myself.”

It was about eight by ten meters and every inch was crammed full of vegetables and fruit. He even had pineapples growing there.

Zeke and I helped him pick some fruit and then he banished me from the kitchen, where geckoes were roaming, unhindered. “They eat the roaches,” Zeke pointed out, when I made a face at one that ran up the cabinet right in front of me.

“What can I do to help?” I said.

“Nothing,” Pop said. “Visiting ladies don't do any chores. Not in my home. Go, take a walk. Relax.”

I looked around, found an enormous catchment tank, plus an outhouse with a compost toilet. Pop's place had solar panels, and
a wind turbine, on account of twenty-five-mile-an-hour winds every day of the year, and no sealed walls, to make the most of the island breezes.

I'd never seen a house like it, and it seemed so weird to me, so alien.

I followed the garden path, dotted with fallen thorns, down to a cave, which contained a bed and two tubs of soapy water.

“Also for the roaches,” Zeke said, appearing behind me. “Soap chokes their breathing pores. Poor little guys.”

“This is amazing,” I said, looking around at the cave.

“Yeah, it's the end of a lava tunnel. Pop loves it down here. It's like, literally, his man cave.”

There were internal pillars made of lava rock fragments, and totem poles carved and painted with animal faces.

That night Zeke and I slept in the cave, and in the morning he helped his grandfather paint the wooden house with creosote, which stank to high heaven, but which neither of them complained about.

Before we left, Pop shook my hand and said, “He never brought a girl to meet me before.”

“Really? I'm the first?”

“The first and the last,” Pop said, looking straight into my eyes.

“Well, I don't know about that,” I said, embarrassed.

“Iris,” he said, shaking his head, “I
know.
You're it.”

Zeke joined us then, carrying our bags, and for a long time afterward I wondered about his grandfather's words. What was I? Zeke's true love? Or the only gamble he'd ever make on a girl the one that would make or break him?