Forever and a Day (54 page)

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Authors: Alexis Konsantino

BOOK: Forever and a Day
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He was cautious as he approached the hut. When he was close enough he called out, “Hello! Anyone here?” He was greeted by bah-ing as more goats gathered by the large male goat, their tails wagging excitedly as they watched him.

 

He noticed they were crowding around a water trough, and by the looks, it was empty. He saw a black plastic waterspout pointing down from the tower, up higher was another. He could see that the tower was about six feet in diameter. It stood about six feet off the ground on thick bundles of bamboo pilings.

 

More goats joined the big brown one; all were eagerly wagging their tails at him. With his stick out in front he slowly approached the water trough and peered in, it was dry as a bone. He ignored the closed door to the hut and moved to the trough, the goats backed away as he examined the spouts. The lower one had a valve and the top one looked like an overflow pipe where extra water would fall directly into the trough.

 

As Xander reached for the red capped plastic handle the goats began bah-ing loudly, in apparent approval. Using both hands, he got the handle turned and water began falling from the spout. Opening it further, a rush of water began filling the tough. Goats of all sizes and shapes pushed towards the trough and began drinking as their stubby tails wagged happily. He felt the jostling of happy goats against his legs. Keeping his eye on the big horned male, he let the trough fill halfway before he shut it off. Backing away the goats quickly filled the void he vacated.

 

Counting the goats, he found that there were fifteen of them, and one very pregnant white goat. With the animals happily drinking away, he walked over to the closed wooden plank door. He knocked on it hard and called out. There was no answer, he moved to the side of the door so he would not be an easy target in the doorway, lifted the latch and slowly pushed the door open. A musty, old odor wafted out into the warm afternoon air.

 

Xander recognized the smell and stepped back quickly. The stench came creeping up his nose and into his mind... old death. He peered in but could not see much in the darkness, besides a bamboo floor at the doorway. He could tell the hut was built very well, as there were no streams of light filling the interior from cracks or crevices from the outside.

 

Backing away, he began walking around the outside of hut looking a window. The first thing he noticed was that the hut was built up against and possibly into the rocky hill above. He found a shuttered window, set his walking stick down and gave the shutters a push with his hand. They did not budge. He pushed it harder with both hands and with a loud crash, the shutters broke open and he nearly fell into the open window frame.

 

He leaned his head in and peered down, then quickly jumped up with a gasp and banged his head on the window frame. He cursed and rubbed his head while he backed away. Coming back around to the door, he stepped in. There, under the window was a cot and a desiccated body. From the meager light coming from the small window, he could see the white of the skull with bits of gray hair still attached. A thick woolen like blanket covered most of the body.

 

He looked around and in the corner, he saw someone kneeling down in the darkness. His hackles rose as prickles ran down his neck and back. With a steely voice, he called out to the person, “Hello?” They did not move and he silently pulled out his knife and opened it smoothly and quietly.

 

“Hey! You in the corner, we washed ashore here. Are you ok?” Xander moved back to see if he could get a better view and wondered if the person in the corner was dead too. With his hair standing on end, he stepped further into the hut.

 

“Do you need help?” He called out as he came closer to the person kneeling in the dark corner.

 

With his knife at his side he inched closer, suddenly he felt someone behind him and he spun around and was suddenly knocked flat on his ass by a punch to his gut. He scrambled back to gain some distance before he launched his attack and slammed into the person in the corner with a crash. A bah erupted in front of him and he saw a black horned goat staring at him. “GET OUT!” He screamed and charged it. The goat took off out of the door bah-ing all the way.

 

Xander spun back around and stepped towards the dark corner, he began laughing and put his knife away. “I about pissed myself!” He laughed aloud as he patted the ‘person’ in the corner. It was an old fashioned, black potbellied stove. Xander needed more light to check out the contents of the hut, he stepped outside still laughing at himself.

 

He loosened a board on the hut’s wall and gave it a pull; it came away in his hands flooding the hut with more light. Going back in, he went up to the skeleton on the cot. With its jaw gaping open, he saw a full set of teeth. The eye sockets were empty and no skin was visible, just some white hair. He could see that the person who died had been there for quite some time.

 

Xander crossed himself in the Greek Orthodox style and said a silent prayer. He would give the person here a decent burial as soon as he could. Turning away, he saw a small table and chair made of bamboo. On top of the table was a hurricane lantern. Xander went over to it and checked it for oil. He lowered the wick down then back up, he took off the glass cover and using the safety matches from the raft, he lit the lantern. Light flooded the back of the room and he saw a curtain covering an alcove of sorts built into the rock. He checked the stove first. On the floor underneath was his first find: a black cast iron frying pan.

 

Xander’s smile lighted up his face as he picked it up. Feeling its heft in his hand, he set it down on the table and examined the stove. Inside it he found dried rotting wood. He turned his attention to the dusty six foot long curtain. Holding the up the lamp, he moved the curtain aside and was greeted by several large old boxes, glass jars and more.

 

He started with the top shelf, pulling the first box down: he found it held some hemp rope, some folded canvas and some metal rings. The next one held old clothing. He spent at least a half an hour going through all the items and came away with some very useful tools.

 

He found out that the dead man’s name was Samson Pelekue. Looking through his personal effects, he found that he had been here for quite some time and was from Samoa and was born July 6, 1939. When he died, he had no idea. Apparently, he lived an extremely simple life here. No radio, no books, nothing except an old black and white picture of very pretty Samoan woman. On the back, it was dated August 19, 1963 with the name Louise and the year of her death: 2003. His wife, Xander imagined.

 

Xander promised he would be back and bury Mr. Pelekue properly. He looked over all the useful finds from Mr. Pelekue and wondered what he should bring back first. He picked up a small hatchet that had seen better days, “This for sure.” He said aloud. There was a plastic five gallon water dispenser bottle that he wanted to take. The rusty kitchen knife for sure. The wood bowls and plates can wait. He hefted the black frying pan up and decided this was necessary if the outrigger floats. Then there was the rope and canvas as well as the hurricane lamp.

 

With a sigh, he decided on the frying pan, the water bottle, rope and the kitchen knife. There was more, but that could wait. He gathered the items and set them outside the door. Picking up the hatchet he longed to look for some garden implements, surely the old man did not rely on sticks and his hands as Xander had done.

 

He checked around for the offending black goat and was nowhere to be seen. He rubbed his belly as it was still sore from the head butt. He went back behind the water tower and looked up the rocky face of the wall. It looked like a channel was dug out and something was missing that directed water into the water tower.

 

Looking around, he saw off to the side of the rock wall was a bamboo overhang, walking over to it he saw what he had hoped to find: a very old shovel and a spade as well as a broken machete. Along with the tools, he found scores of thick and dried bamboo poles. Looking through the implements he found some random pieces of metal of various sizes and at the very back of the junk heap, lying against the rock wall was an old broken bayonet. He pulled it out and examined it in the light. He saw the Japanese lettering and noticed the wood handle was rotting. He had an idea and placed back until later.

 

He looked around and saw a pathway heading northwest. Down the path was the brown horned goat watching him. When he saw Xander looking at him he began wagging his tail, turned and trotted down the path out of sight.

 

He grabbed the shovel and with the hatchet in his hand he followed where the brown goat went off to. On the pathway, again there was no vegetation on the ground level. He wondered what was keeping these goats alive. As he rounded the corner of the goat path, he saw what it was. Bamboo, a thick forest of it.

 

He noticed first thing that the bamboo adjacent to the path were all thick in diameter, the inner ones were younger and newer until they eventually butted up against the twenty-foot rock wall. Xander saw the brown goat standing by a copse of thick bamboo. Moving towards the goat, he saw what the dilemma was: all the green leaves were inside or up too high, where the goats could not reach. They had been surviving on the new shoots that would pop up. Apparently, the bamboo was the super-fast growing variety.

 

“Smart man, that Mr. Pelekue…” He muttered. He set the shovel down and the goat seemed to know what he was going to do as it backed away and watched him. Xander hefted the hatchet and swung it down at an angle at the base of the first thick stalk of tall bamboo. In two strikes, he had it down. Pulling it away, he tossed it towards the goat who quickly began eating the green leaves that were once too high for him to reach.

 

He began hacking away and tossing loads of tall bamboo off to the side. More goats were coming up from both sides of the trail, bah-ing away with their tails wagging excitedly.

 

He began making a headway towards the rock face when an ugly dark gray bird with a small white head, flapped and chirped a weird sound in his face then took off flying, angrily screeching at him. Looking down he saw he was in front of its nest and several brown eggs were laying peacefully there. They looked a lot like small chicken eggs, he thought excitedly. He took four of them and gently placed them in his pockets then backed away.

 

Looking at his handiwork, he saw that the goats would be able to eat well tonight. Looking over to the goats cleaning the leaves off the bamboo stalks gave him another idea. He was not sure if he wanted to use Mr. Pelekue’s hut… it smelled horrible for one thing.

 

He watched the goats move into the opening he had cleared, the white pregnant goat tried to move in but soon was edged away by the more active goats. She voiced her frustration with her bleating. Xander hacked a few more bamboo stalks down and held them out to the Nanny goat. With caution, she came close and after eyeing him, her tail began wagging as she started in on the fresh bamboo leaves.

 

Yet another idea popped into his head with a smile.

 

“Time to see if that outrigger floats!” He laughed and headed towards the pathway to the beach.

 

 

Halo was getting bored and was beginning to miss him. She had read for a while on his reader, but she could not get into it with not knowing how he was faring. She placed it back in his bag and saw his phone in its plastic bag. She picked it up and the urge to snoop was pushing her to turn it on. She kept telling herself no, but her curiosity won out and she pulled it from its protective Ziploc bag and turned it on.

 

As the apple appeared at the start up screen she felt the wrongness of snooping, but he did tell her it was ok. So why did it feel wrong? As soon as the phone booted up she turned it off and placed it back. Listening to his music was one thing, but checking out his family and his pictures were another.

 

She realized the sun was starting to begin its descent towards nightfall. She stepped out of the tent, reached for her walking stick and slowly and surely made it to the loo. When she was done, she looked out towards Xander’s Island and wished he would soon be home, she missed him with every passing moment. Rather than walking back, she headed out towards the west beach looking for a place to sit and wait for him or his signal flare. She found a nice spot and settled in, promising herself she would head back as soon as she saw his flare.

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