Cross Currents (31 page)

He might have fallen for Dao. He might have loved her. But she was an illusion, a dream.

He had to rest somewhere else.

THE TREE HOUSE HAD BEEN full of children for most of the morning, full of children who giggled from the platform, chased geckos on branches, and pretended that they were giants. Only when a soccer game unfolded on the nearby field did the tree once again sway quietly in the wind.

Now, as Lek and Niran fished and hunted for the food that would provide the restaurant's patrons with an annual Christmas feast, Sarai, Suchin, and Yai walked toward the tree house. Sarai and Suchin carried six dried ears of corn, while Yai held Achara. Suchin had been playing off and on in the tree house since she'd arisen and was pleading with her grandmother to make the climb. “It's so easy,” she said, dropping the wooden bowl that would be used to gather kernels of corn. “All you have to do is take about ten steps up.”

Yai wiped her sweating brow and wished for clouds. “Easy for you to say. You move like a monkey. Me, I'm more like an old water buffalo.”

“No, you're not. You just say that.”

“Have you seen my backside? You think it's better for sitting or climbing?”

Suchin pointed to the ladder. “Look, it's not far up. And no one's there right now.”

“I'd bring the whole tree down. All of Patch's work, done for nothing. Your friends would chase me off the island. And with good reason.”

“He made it strong, didn't he, Mother? Tell her. Tell her how you climbed up there with me after breakfast.”

Sarai nodded, trying to suppress a smile. “She's right. I think the tree would hold you. Look how thick it is. It might just be strong enough.”

“Oh, how my own daughter mocks me. Sweet Buddha, what did I do to deserve such a daughter? Did I curse you once? Did one of your monks get on my nerves and I sent him scurrying?”

Suchin tugged on Yai's free hand. “Just try it. Please. Don't listen to her. I know you can climb it. You were young once; you were a little monkey like me. So I know you can do it. Everyone in our family has been up there but you.”

“Can't an old woman just find a spot of shade and rest?”

“No. Not today. Today you have to climb the tree for me. For my Christmas present.”

“For your Christmas present?”

“I've seen drawings of Santa. And he . . . he likes his food. He's big. And they say he can climb through windows, through holes in the roof. So if he can do that, you can climb too.”

Sarai reached the tree and gestured for Achara. Continuing to protest, Yai handed over her granddaughter. With one arm, Sarai spread a small blanket on the sand, kissed Achara's chubby cheek, and laid her on the blanket. Sitting so that her shadow covered Achara, Sarai began to use a knife to pry dried kernels from a corncob. The kernels fell into the bowl that Suchin had carried. Later that night, after dinner was finished, Sarai would heat the kernels in a covered pot until they popped.

“Oh, sweet Buddha, don't let me fall,” Yai said as Suchin pushed her toward the ladder. “Don't let me bring your tree down on top of my loved ones. They don't deserve to die like that. Sarai, maybe. But please let Achara live.”

Sarai laughed, continuing to work on the cob. “You'd protect us. You'd hit the ground first and would protect us like a giant shield.”

“Why, Buddha? Where is your mercy?”

Suchin put her hands against her grandmother's bottom and pushed. “Come on, before the soccer game is over.”

After testing the strength of the bottom rung with her weight, Yai looked up. “I might as well climb to the moon.”

Suchin pushed harder. “Don't stop.”

“Please, sweet Buddha, please protect Achara. Not the other one. But the little one. Please keep her safe.” Yai moved higher on the ladder, surprised that it held her. “Don't let me squish you,” she said to Suchin. “Really, you should have gone first.”

“I need to push you. I can't push you if I'm not below you.”

“Oh, what a sight you must see. Close your eyes, dear. Save yourself.”

“Just go. Don't stop.”

Yai stepped higher, aware of Sarai's laughter. She smiled, pleased that Sarai was happy today, when so much work needed to be done. Her heart thumping faster as she continued up, Yai reached the top of the ladder and moved carefully onto the platform. She was certain that it would crack and groan beneath her, but no such sounds emerged.

“See?” Suchin said, hurrying beside her, crawling on hands and feet like a spider. “I told you everything would be fine. I knew you could do it. Of course you could do it.”

Yai patted Suchin's knee. “Thank you, child.”

“You're welcome, adult.”

The pair exchanged smiles as children shouted nearby, chasing a soccer ball, sending it flying in one direction and then another. Suchin knew everyone who played, and cheered on her closest friends, none of whom were the best players. Those children scored and danced, often doing celebratory cartwheels and headstands. Since it was Saturday, several adults participated in the game and were nearly as exuberant as the children.

Yai watched Suchin follow the game, happy that she was so confident and poised. “Did you really believe I could climb up here?” Yai asked, pulling a twig from Suchin's long hair.

“I climbed beneath you, didn't I?”

“Yes, you did.”

“So I believed.”

Below, Achara cried. Sarai set a corncob aside and picked up her little girl, whispering. She covered her torso with a small blanket as she began to nurse Achara.

“Don't be afraid to climb,” Yai said, nodding. “Life is full of trees to climb.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, when I was your age, girls couldn't do much. We didn't play soccer. We hardly went to school. By the time your mother was born, things had started to change. And one day, when she was older, she asked me if she should open Rainbow Resort with your father. It was their dream.”

Suchin turned from the game. “What did you tell her?”

“You think my memory is so sharp?”

“No. Probably not.”

Yai chuckled, her fingers tracing the contours of Suchin's face. “I told her that they should build it together. But that she would have to be the engine to make it go.”

“Father does his best.”

“I know, child. I know.”

“Patch has helped him a lot.”

The game ended and children started to head toward the tree house.

“Remember, Suchin. Don't ever be afraid to climb. One day, when I'm gone, and when a tall tree stands before you, remember how I climbed up this one. If I can climb this one, you can do anything. You can go to a university on the mainland. You can say no to a strong man. You can be who you were meant to be. Not who someone else says you should be.”

Suchin reached for her grandmother's hand. “But you'll help me. I know you'll help me.”

“Of course I will. And so will your mother and father. And even Niran and Achara. But someday . . . someday you'll have to look up, without fear. And when you're not afraid, so many beautiful things will happen. Just like they've happened for your parents.”

Children started to call out to Suchin. She waved and told them to wait a minute. “You're a good climber,” she said. “I don't care if you think your backside is like a water buffalo's. You're a good climber, and I'm glad that you came up with me.”

Yai clapped. “You make me so happy.”

“Let's go.”

“All right. But let me go down first, just in case I'm better at falling than climbing.”

“You'll be fine.”

“Oh, I'd just bounce, I suppose. Bounce like that new soccer ball of yours. Just don't let me roll away too far. Your mother would think that's much too funny.”

“I won't.”

“Why don't you tell me a joke as I go down? To pass the time before my doom. Let me die laughing.”

Suchin pursed her lips, helping Yai grasp the top rung. “What dog keeps the best time?”

Yai's foot slipped, and she let out a grunt, pulling herself back up. “Hmm . . . that must be a watchdog,” she replied, stepping down once again.

“You always get them!” Suchin said, giggling. “Why do you always get my jokes?”

“Because I'm a jokester. And jokesters get all the jokes.”

“I'll think of a better one.”

Yai smiled. “Take your time. At the rate I'm going, there's no need to rush. Just don't tell any jokes about falling water buffalo. That would strike too close to my heart.”

“Mother is laughing.”

“Drop something on her, will you? Any coconuts up here?”

“No.”

“I'm going to tape her mouth shut.”

“You tried that once. It didn't work.”

Yai paused, clinging to the ladder. “You're a beautiful girl, Suchin. Inside and out. How Sarai produced you will always be a mystery to me. A wonder of the world. Right up there with the pyramids. You're such a beautiful girl and I couldn't love you more.”

IT HADN'T TAKEN RYAN LONG to get organized. He'd thrown all his possessions into his suitcase, showered, and put on fresh clothes. After hurrying into the restaurant and paying for his lodging, he returned to his room. He had tried to avoid an encounter with Patch or Brooke, but in the end, just as he did a final check of the bungalow, she found him. She was wearing shorts and a T-shirt, and must have been running, because her body was slick with sweat.

“Don't go,” she said, reaching out to him. “Patch told me what happened. Please let me explain.”

He zipped his suitcase shut. “Don't pretend that you care.”

“I do care. So does he.”

“Right. Thanks for reminding me.”

She put her hand on his shoulder. “Please don't leave. Not like this. It only happened . . . it only happened because you found someone else. You fell for someone else. And so did I.”

“My brother.”

“So? What's wrong with that? Wouldn't you rather have me fall for him than for a stranger?”

“He—”

“It was my fault, Ry. I initiated it. Not him.”

“That's not what he said.”

“He was protecting me. But I'm telling you, I started it.”

Ryan began to reply but stopped, rubbing his aching hand. “I can't help him any more. He won't listen to me. So there's no reason for me to stay.”

“But the woman. Don't you—”

“Dao. Her name is Dao.”

“Don't you have something with her? Something worth pursuing?”

He opened and closed his hand, wishing that it hadn't formed into a fist. “I have to leave. That's what I have to pursue. Because . . . because staying here is making me crazy.”

“How? Tell me how.”

“You need it spelled out? Seriously?”

“I—”

“You kissed my brother. He's a fugitive. And I'm falling for a girl I hardly even know. Maybe that works for you. For Patch. But I can't stay in his little world. I'm not Peter Pan.”

“I know you're not. But you were so happy the other night. Happier than I've seen you in a long time. You seemed . . . fulfilled.”

Ryan shook his head. “I have to go. Right now.”

“It's Christmas. Don't leave on Christmas. Please. Stay until tomorrow.” She reached for his hand, holding it in hers. “I didn't mean for this to happen. It's my fault. It really is. Don't blame him. He's a wreck right now. He's—”

“I do blame him.”

“He loves you so much.”