Beside a Burning Sea (33 page)

“Well, maybe you’d better rub it a few more times so that we’ll catch dinner tonight.”

Ratu absently touched the tooth, his mind still awash in their earlier conversation. “Should I hold my head high?” he asked.

Jake wasn’t used to giving advice to anyone, let alone to a boy. And so he thought about what words to share. Finally, he said, “Don’t let anyone, even me, tell you how to hold your head, Ratu. That’d be like me telling the sun how to shine. You do what makes you happy. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“But what if I don’t know?”

“Then don’t worry. The sun might not know how it shines, but it sure does look pretty.”

THE TREE SWAYED like a dancer beneath her. Gripping two branches, Annie sat on a thick limb and watched the jungle stretch and shake. She’d been up in the tree for at least an hour. After she’d finally stopped crying, she’d been angry with herself for getting so upset. She’d felt as if she had taken a step backward, regressing into the old Annie who was forever scared of the world. And so she’d forced herself to do something she’d always feared—to climb a high tree. The way up hadn’t been easy, and she’d scraped her arms and legs in several places. In fact, she’d almost fallen when a branch snapped beneath her. But she’d made it to the top, and her head had started to clear.

The motion of the tree had been disconcerting at first, but Annie was now used to the pattern of movement, and it reminded her of being aboard
Benevolence
. After all, the way the tree leaned back and forth was little different from how
Benevolence
had rolled over swells.

Though Annie had originally planned on just climbing up and down the tree, once near its top she hadn’t wanted to leave. She wasn’t quite ready to face Akira, as well as the questions that had so troubled her after the argument with Isabelle. So even though her stomach rumbled, she remained in the tree, reliving the highlights of the past few days rather than her words with her sister.

The sky was starting to darken when she heard Akira calling her name. Even from a distance she detected urgency in his voice. She responded loudly, and soon he was standing thirty feet below her, looking up with great surprise. “Are you hurt?” he shouted.

“I’m sorry,” she said, pleased to see him. “I’m just fine.”

“May I climb up?”

“Please.”

Akira grabbed a stout branch and pulled himself off the ground. The tree boasted many thick branches and was nearly perfect for climbing. After a few minutes, he reached her spot. He could see the cuts on her arms and legs, and her apparent vulnerability gave him a sudden urge to kiss her brow. He hesitated, but then leaned toward her, and her arms wrapped around him. He pressed his lips against a freckle on her forehead.

“May I ask why you are up here?” he said. “Isabelle is searching for you. She asked me where you were, and I did not know.”

“We fought. It was horrible and . . . and I just needed to find somewhere to think.”

“So you climbed to the top of a tree?”

“I wanted to escape.”

He sat beside her on the limb, one of his hands coming to rest on her leg while he held a branch with the other. A gust of wind penetrated the jungle, and he felt the tree lean to the side. “May I inquire as to why you fought?”

She looked at his face, finding solace in his eyes and lips. “Isabelle was just being my big sister,” she answered, gently touching her foot against his.

“She was worried for you, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Because . . . because of me?”

“She isn’t one to take chances. She has a plan for everything.”

“And I am a . . . chance?”

Annie wasn’t sure if she detected a new expression on his face. Was it pain? Disappointment? “You’re not a chance,” she said, turning to kiss him. She had a sudden desire to crawl into his arms, but being unable to do so, she rested her head against his shoulder. Through a thin opening in the canopy before her, she watched the sky. “Thank you for finding me,” she said quietly.

“I was missing you.”

She smiled at these words, happy to have been missed. “A part of me is afraid, Akira,” she admitted, wanting to tell him everything.

“Of the future?”

“Of what might happen to us.”

He kissed the top of her head. “You do not have to be afraid.”

“But why not? Our countries are at war, and we have no idea what the future might bring.”

“We control what happens to us.”

“You can’t say that.”

He nodded, wishing that he could kiss the scratches on her legs. “Some things I can say,” he replied. “I can say that . . . that if you want me by your side, I will be by your side. I can say that every war has an end, and that every day has a new beginning.”

A bird landed in the tree next to them. The wind blew again, and both trees swayed in tandem. “I’m afraid of losing you,” she said, watching the bird, for the briefest of moments avoiding Akira’s eyes. “Now that I’ve finally found you, I can’t imagine losing you.”

“See how the trees move together?”

“They’re beautiful.”

“But we cannot see them dance from below. How wonderful it is to see them dance from so high.” Akira turned his head so that he could inhale the scent of her.

“Why do you like to do that?” she asked. “To smell me?”

“Because I want . . . each of my senses to feel you. And because I think . . . I think I like the smell of you the best.”

“But why?”

“Because . . . that way I can bring you into me.”

She kissed his shoulder. “I love you,” she said quietly. “Those three words . . . have always been a mystery to me. Like some language I couldn’t speak. But now I finally know what they mean.”

He smiled, moving on the branch so that he was even closer to her. “I like it here, in these dancing trees. Thank you for showing them to me.”

“You’re welcome.”

The tree continued to sway. The sky darkened. “Your sister is worried,” he said. “You should go to her, yes?”

“I’m angry at her.”

Akira watched a small green beetle climb across his leg. “I am an only child. So I have never fought with a brother or a sister.”

“Sisters fight a lot.”

“I think it would be wonderful to have a sister. Or a brother.”

She shrugged. “It can be.”

“A sibling would be the one person in the whole world who . . . who would be with you from birth until death. At every step, she or he would be there.”

“That’s true. I’ve never thought of it like that.”

“It would be a beautiful thing, I am sure.”

“Are you trying to tell me something?” she asked, familiar with how he liked to give advice through his stories and musings.

He smiled, stroking the skin of her leg. “Tonight, after the others have gone to sleep, will you join me for a swim? The moon is almost full, and I discovered a place where there are no rocks or waves. Just sand and water.”

Annie took his free hand within hers. “I have a price.”

“A price?”

“I want you to write a poem. In Japanese. In the sand.”

He found her eyes. “May I ask why in Japanese?”

“Because that’s who you are. And I’d like to watch as you write it. And to listen as you speak it.” She kissed him and then carefully moved toward the tree’s trunk. She started to descend.

As Akira followed her, he thought about what he would write. He watched the trees sway, wondering how he could bring life to their dance while simultaneously describing his love for her.

Much later, when the right words finally blossomed within him, he could do little more than turn his eyes toward the setting sun and silently beseech it to hasten on its journey.

DAY FIFTEEN

A ballet of wood.
The scent of her within me.
Has spring felt so fresh?

The First to Fall

A talkative gull awoke Joshua and Isabelle just before dawn. They always slept closest to the cave’s entrance, for he liked to have a feel for the outside world, and she believed that the fresh air was healthier for their child. And so the gull only spurred the two of them to leave their sandy beds, and they started walking down the beach as the eastern side of the island was painted with a sapphire light.

Isabelle told him about her fight with Annie and their reconciliation at dinner. Joshua had siblings and understood that such confrontations were inevitable. Still, he was pleased to hear that they’d made amends, for while he realized that Isabelle had been trying to do what was right, she’d probably gone too far. He couldn’t recall seeing Annie so happy, and as much as he also wondered about her future, he hoped that her relationship with Akira would somehow endure.

The sky continued to lighten as they walked along the rocky shore. All his years on the sea had linked Joshua to the world above, and he often glanced upward to see how the young day was evolving. He realized that it would be a good day for war. Clouds were unseen. Wind was nonexistent. And visibility was limitless. If he were commanding planes or ships, he’d send forth as many as possible to seek and destroy.

Not wanting to think about war, he took Isabelle’s hand. She had always walked faster than he, as if she were forever late to her destination. And so he now slowed her down, forcing her to relax as he tried to do the same. She resisted for a moment, pulling him forward. But then she seemed to realize that no reason existed to hurry.

“You’re not on
Benevolence
,” he said, remembering how she’d constantly rushed about the decks.

She gently squeezed his bandaged hand at the mention of his ship. “Strange how that seems so long ago.”

“Maybe because so much has changed.”

“Like what?”

“Like you being pregnant. Like Annie falling in love with a Japanese soldier. At this point, I don’t think I’d be surprised if I woke up tomorrow and the ocean was purple.”

“Well, for the moment it’s still blue.”

He smiled. “I’d forgotten how nice these walks can be.”

She sought his eyes. “On
Benevolence
, did you . . . did you try to forget such things?”

“What do you mean?”

Isabelle suppressed a grimace at a sudden cramp in her belly. “I didn’t let myself think about those things at sea,” she said. “Things like nice walks. There was just too much else to think about. I mean . . . how could I attend to my patients if I were daydreaming about home?”

“What about at night? Or when you were . . . washing your hair, or something like that?”

She shook her head. “I always thought about my patients. I asked myself who was going to die and who was going to live. And I tried to think of how I could help each person.” When he didn’t respond, she looked up at his face. “I’m sorry I didn’t think about you, Josh. I wanted to. But . . . but I just couldn’t. And maybe that’s one of the reasons why we drifted apart.”

“Don’t be sorry. You saved so many of them. And there’s still plenty of time to save me.”

“I don’t think I need to save you anymore. You’ve saved yourself.”

“That’s not true. If you weren’t here I wouldn’t have . . . climbed out of the hole I was in.” He inhaled the sea’s scent through his nose and deeply into his lungs, enjoying the sensation. “A few days ago you mentioned a little house by the ocean. Can you tell me about it? I’d like to hear more.”

She stepped over a bloated jellyfish. “It needs to be old,” she replied, speaking slowly, which was unusual for her. “Old so that we can fix it. A once-proud house that’s been forgotten.”

“And what about the nursery?”

“Oh, I suppose there will have to be ships in it.”

“Even if it’s a girl?”

“Especially if it’s a girl.”

Joshua smiled at her response, understanding all that it meant. “And you really want me to teach you how to sail?”

“Why should you get to have all the fun? I can be a captain too.”

“You’d run a tight ship. So tight that you’d probably get a few extra knots out of her.”

“More than a few, I’d say.”

He grinned, glancing from the sea to the sky to her face. “I’m so lucky to have you,” he said, his voice growing slightly more serious. “I just don’t know how I’d manage without you. I don’t even like to think about it.”

“You’d manage.”

He stopped and turned to her. “That isn’t true, Izzy. In fact, nothing could be farther from the truth. And I thought about you a lot,” he said, touching the tip of her nose with his forefinger. “All those long hours on the bridge. You were with me more than you knew.”

“I was?”

“I wanted us to be like we once were. When we were young.”

“Remind me what that was like.”

“Like this,” he replied, scratching absently at a bug bite. “We took walks. We talked. We laughed a lot.”

“I remember laughing.”

“So do I.”

“Do you think the war changed us,” she asked, “or did we change on our own?”

“What do you think?”

Isabelle took his hand and started walking again. “I think . . . I think we let the war change us.”

“I—”

“And I don’t want anything to change us again. No matter where life takes us. We could have a sick child, or you could be out of work. But even those things shouldn’t change us, Josh. Not like the war did. I don’t want to keep trying to go back to who we once were. I don’t want to feel myself slipping away from you.”

Joshua considered her words. “The last thing I took for granted is gone,” he said. “And I miss that ship. I really do. And I’m not comparing you to a ship, but for a long time I’ve taken you for granted, and I’m not going to make that mistake anymore.”

“But the war. Even once our child’s born you’ll still have a war to win.”

“And I’ll fight that war. For our child. For us. For Poles and Parisians and Jews and Chinese. For people we’ve never met.” He saw a flat rock and skipped it into the surf. “And then one day it will be over. And, God willing, I’ll come home that day.”

“You’d better come home, Joshua.”

He touched her belly. “I won’t leave you two alone.”

“Promise?”

“I do.”

She glanced at their surroundings. “We could wait the war out . . . on this island.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Not us. That’s not who we are.”

Isabelle nodded, knowing he was right, surprised at herself for even mentioning it. “Then I want to ask you something,” she said.

“What?”

“After we’re rescued, give me a week. I want a week of just you. A week in a place like this. Then you can go and do what needs to be done. And I’ll have everything ready when you finally come home.”

Joshua tried to smile, but having grown so used to her presence, the thought of being separated was suddenly hard for him to ponder. “We’ll take two weeks,” he said, reaching over to draw her toward him. He held her tightly, kissing her brow, his hand on her belly.

“I think we deserve that.”

“I love you, Izzy. I love you, and I won’t be pulled away from you. I won’t let even this godforsaken war do that to us again.”

RATU SCRUTINIZED THE NEARBY beach with immense care. Bordered by tide pools, rocks, and the ocean, the section of sand was about forty feet long and twenty feet wide. Deciding on a course of action, Ratu took a spear, set its point into the sand, and began to walk. Dragging the weapon behind him, he created a rectangle that used most of the available sand. At each end of the rectangle he then placed a pair of coconuts set about five feet apart.

“These are the goals,” he said eagerly to Jake. “If you kick the ball through the coconuts, you score a goal.”

“And you ain’t gonna use your hands?”

“Only a goalie can use his hands.”

“So I can?”

“You’re not a bloody goalie, Big Jake. In this game, no hands.”

Jake looked at the round sponge Ratu had found. Nodding toward it, he said, “So I gotta kick that darn thing?”

“What have I been telling you? Of course you bloody well have to kick that darn thing. If you kick it through my two coconuts, you score a goal.”

Picking up the sponge, Jake tossed it up and caught it. He then dropped it and tried to kick it in midair. Missing badly, he lost his balance and had to step sideways to regain it. “How about a larger sponge?” he asked. “I’d rather peel potatoes with a spoon than kick that thing.”

“Just kick it, Big Jake. I tell you, it’s not hard,” Ratu said as he walked toward the middle of his field. Setting the sponge down, he turned toward Jake. “You can have the ball first.”

“I reckon we should call it a sponge.”

“Bugger off, Big Jake. It’s a ball. Now try to kick it by me and into my goal.”

Jake stepped toward the sponge. Seeing how Ratu had positioned himself between it and his goal, Jake attempted to kick the sponge around him. However, the kick mainly served to send sand flying into the air. The sponge went almost straight up, and before Jake knew what was happening, Ratu darted forward, kneed the sponge in midair, and sent it sailing over Jake’s head. Ratu raced around Jake, shouting triumphantly. He kicked the sponge several times before blasting it through Jake’s goal.

“The great Ratu scores first!” Ratu shouted, holding his arms up and spinning around in tight circles.

“That’s good,” Jake said, “get yourself real nice and dizzy. That ought to help me.”

“You need to learn how to kick, Big Jake!” Ratu exclaimed, laughing. “How can someone as big and strong as you not know how to kick?”

“How can someone so little be so darn ornery?”

“Oh, put a sock in it, mate. Do I need to explain the game to you again? I’m happy to do so. It’s not hard. I tell you, it’s not. Just use that giant foot of yours. If only I had a foot like that! I’d be playing for Fiji in the bloody World Cup!”

Ratu again placed the sponge in the middle of the field. Though Jake managed to kick it forward ten feet, Ratu quickly intercepted the sponge, kicked it around Jake, and scored. “Ha!”

“Ha yourself.”

“And another brilliant goal for the great Ratu!” he said, holding his fist before his face, pretending to be a radio announcer. “Fiji leads America two goals to nil! And the crowd is leaping with excitement at this historic match!”

Jake smiled, suddenly remembering what it was like to be a boy and play such games. “The Americans have put in their star player,” he added, trying without much success to impersonate another announcer.

“Yes, Jake the Giant has entered the game,” Ratu replied, laughing. “His left foot is legendary. He’s been known to kick cows from Missouri to the Big Apple Pie!”

“And the ball’s in play!” Jake said, trying to kick the sponge around Ratu. To Jake’s delight, the sponge rolled over Ratu’s outstretched leg. Jake leapt forward, surprising Ratu with his quickness. After catching up to the rolling sponge, Jake kicked it as hard as he could. The sponge sailed into the air, rising above one of the coconuts that marked the edge of the goal.

“A miss!” Ratu shouted, giggling deliriously. “A wide-open goal and a miss!”

“No, no, no,” Jake said, still pretending to be an announcer. “A goal. It hit the post and went in!”

“Is that the official ruling, Peter?”

“Yes . . . William . . . that’s what the umpire said.”

“The umpire?” Ratu repeated, laughing. “He’s a referee!”

“A goal! He said it went in.”

Continuing to giggle, Ratu retrieved the sponge. “Jake the Giant has put the Yanks on the board,” he said, throwing the sponge to Jake.

Jake placed the sponge in the middle of the field and had hardly removed his hands when Ratu kicked it forward. “I ain’t ready to—”

“The Fijians have a breakaway!” Ratu shouted, his laughter making it hard for him to run quickly.

Jake hurried to catch Ratu, who was having a tough time kicking the sponge in the furrowed sand. Ratu’s giggles were infectious, and suddenly Jake was chuckling as his opponent tried to keep him at bay. “Hey, now!” Jake said, trying to get around Ratu. “No pushing with them hands!”

“Get away from me, Jake the Giant! Get those monster feet away from me!”

“Stop pushing me!”

“Get stuffed!” Ratu said, his hands pressing against Jake’s belly. “You’re too bloody big!”

Jake made a halfhearted attempt to kick the sponge, and then could only laugh as Ratu sent it sailing between the coconuts. Falling to the sand, Jake watched Ratu collect the sponge. Ratu then threw it against Jake’s stomach. Sand went flying in all directions, spraying Jake’s face. Ratu laughed while Jake tried to spit out the sand, and Jake reached out and tripped him, sending him sprawling. Jake took the sponge and rubbed it on Ratu’s head.

“Stop it!” Ratu shrieked.

“And a fight’s started between the Fijians and the Americans!” Jake shouted in his fake accent, pretending to punch Ratu.

“Get off of me, you big, bumbling Yank!”

“Jake the Giant is hammering away at the great Ratu!”

Ratu rose to his knees and dove into Jake’s stomach. Jake acted as if the blow stunned him. Grunting loudly, he dropped to the beach and appeared to fall unconscious. Ratu shouted jubilantly, and once more kicked the sponge through Jake’s goal. “A four-to-one victory for the Fijians!” he said, his laughter causing his voice to rise in pitch. “It’s over. The game is over, and Jake the Giant is done for the day!”

Jake continued to chuckle as Ratu pranced and shouted around him, then leapt upon his back, pretending to hit him repeatedly in the upper body. Throwing his arms behind him, so that they encircled Ratu, Jake stood up and began to run toward the sea.

“No!” Ratu yelled, still laughing. “I don’t fancy getting wet!”

“I reckon you don’t!”

“No, I tell you! No, Big Jake! Please don’t—”

Jake plunged into the sea. When it was up to his waist, he turned around and fell backward so that Ratu was thrust underwater. Ratu immediately surfaced and dove at Jake. Ratu was laughing and shrieking, and Jake caught a glimpse of what it must be like to be a father. He reveled in that glimpse, rejoicing in the simple but perfect pleasure of playing with Ratu. For the first time since he’d been a child, Jake felt like a child. And that feeling of youth, of forgotten memories being reborn, bound him to Ratu with a strength that he hadn’t known.