Beside a Burning Sea (23 page)

“Yourself.”

“And this . . . this is how you see me? As a gift? A treasure?”

“Yes.”

“But why?”

“Because a treasure provides. It provides hope and beauty and comfort, yes? And this is what . . . this is what you do for me.”

“I’m just . . . I’m really nothing special,” she said unsteadily, still angry, but also wanting to believe him, wanting to hear more.

He craved to touch her hand but held himself motionless. “May I continue?” he asked.

“Only if doing so will explain your actions.”

He sighed, glancing anxiously from the shell to her face. “You are special.”

“What does this have to do with the scalpel?”

“You fill my world . . . with color. And how could that not be special?”

Despite her irritation, his words warmed her and she picked up the shell, holding it between her hands. “And so you took the scalpel because you wanted to protect me?”

“Yes.”

“Nothing more?”

“No. But nothing less.”

“But why didn’t you tell me about it?”

“I should have. And I am sorry. I am so sorry for that mistake.”

She nodded, twisting the shell, remembering the happiness on his face when he’d given it to her. “Would you mind telling me . . . of this color?” she asked, sensing that he yearned to say more and knowing that she needed to prompt him.

He paused. “I will not dishonor you if I tell you?”

“No. Of course not.”

“Are you sure? I have already said too much, yes?”

“You can tell me.”

“I—”

“You need to tell me. Because if you don’t, I’ll never understand why you took the scalpel or why I’m so confused or why on earth I feel so torn.”

Akira noted the speed with which her voice had suddenly moved. She was also fidgeting—brushing sand from her shell, shifting this way and that. He watched the wind tug at her hair as he searched for the words to describe how he felt. He did not rush into trying to explain his feelings. Rather, he thought about what it was like to spend time with her, about how she opened a part of him that he hadn’t known existed. “When I see you,” he finally said, “when I talk with you . . . I am reminded of all that is good in the world, and of all that is good in me. Because you carry me to a place . . . to a wondrous place where I have never been. And in this place I feel as I have never felt. Everything is alive . . . almost singing . . . like a spring day. And this is how you fill my world with color.”

A tear descended Annie’s face and dropped to her lap. She put her hand on his knee. “Will you show me this place?” she asked, her voice thick with emotion. “Will you show me . . . tonight?”

“Yes.”

“When the sun is down. Please show me when the sun is down and I can see all of the colors.” She wiped a tear from her face, squeezed his knee, and left him by the sea.

THE CLIMB WAS even easier than Roger remembered. He attacked it like a leopard—staying low to the ground, moving up using his feet and hands, practically leaping to and from boulders. Despite his lingering headache and rage, he reveled in his strength, delighted in his taut muscles. Imagining himself as a samurai, he charged his foes above. He held an imaginary sword, a
katana
, and dispatched everyone who stood in his way. Heads and limbs tumbled to the bottom of the hill while he remained unscathed.

He leapt into the depression containing the radio. The earth was undisturbed, and he quickly uncovered his secret box. Within a few minutes, he was naked and his lips held a cigarette, which he sucked on as if it were the vessel of a magical elixir. As the wind bore ashes and smoke away, he set up the radio, placing the headset over his ears. A mosquito landed on his arm and he slapped at it so hard that his skin turned red. “Goddamn island,” he muttered, readjusting his headset.

After taking a deep breath of smoke to steady himself, he said, “Ronin to Edo. Over.”

Static greeted him for a few seconds. Then he heard the metallic voice of his contact. “Edo here. How are the cherry blossoms?”

“Always best at dusk.”

“Agree.”

“Still in nest with eight surviving chicks.”

“Stay in nest. Mother coming to roost in five to eight days. Will rendezvous on highest ground near nest, then find chicks.”

“Understood. Highest ground.”

For a moment, static filled Roger’s headset. Then the familiar voice was back. “Expect typhoon tomorrow.”

Roger’s heart skipped. “Repeat?”

“Typhoon headed in your direction. Expect direct hit. Find suitable shelter. Contact me after storm.”

“Understood. Over.”

The static returned, and Roger looked to the sky. It did seem ominous, full of gray clouds and restless winds. After lighting a second cigarette, he started to disassemble his radio, continuing to glance above. He thought of the captain’s plans for the next day, thought of how the fool and a few others were going to take the lifeboat at first light and row to the cave. Knowing that a typhoon would pick up the lifeboat as if it were no more than a leaf, Roger clapped his hands. “You and your bitch are going to die tomorrow,” he said gleefully, smoke seeping from his lips. “You couldn’t save
Benevolence
, and you’re sure as hell not going to save that little lifeboat.”

Barely able to contain his enthusiasm for the chaos of the coming day, Roger buried his box. He then put his clothes back on and began to descend the hill. As he moved from rock to rock, he wondered what he should do with the party that journeyed overland to the cave. When the storm hit, he could lead them to the cave and would be a hero. Or he could get them lost and watch them die. Or, perhaps better yet, he could let some die and some live.

I’ll have to make sure that the bastard captain leaves just before the storm strikes, he thought. But how can I do that? He’ll read the weather and know that something is amiss. And the coward will want to play it safe.

His mind embracing and disregarding schemes, Roger continued down the hill, almost as excited as the day Edo told him that
Benevolence
would be sunk.

BACK AT CAMP, JOSHUA stood on the beach and studied the sky. He hadn’t spent much time in the waters of the South Pacific, and couldn’t interpret the weather as well as he’d have liked. The air—cool, gray, and agitated—seemed to be telling him something.

“What is it?” Isabelle asked, watching her husband.

“I don’t know. Probably nothing.”

“Is a storm coming?”

He turned about in a circle, looking at the sky from all directions, trying to interpret it as he might Isabelle’s face. “I think so,” he replied. “But I’m not sure what kind of storm. We might just get really wet.”

“Do you want me to tell everyone that we’ll leave at first light tomorrow?”

Joshua looked about the camp, wishing they could leave immediately, but knowing that the fish was still drying and that people were scattered and ill prepared. “You read my mind, as usual.” She smiled and started to leave when he touched her shoulder. “Notice anything else?” he asked.

“Only that the destroyer left an hour or so ago.”

“You don’t miss much, do you?”

“Not when I can help it.”

“I wonder why she left. So odd to come here for a few days and then leave. I should climb the hill and ask Scarlet some questions. She may have seen something we didn’t.”

“How about some company?”

“I’d love some. You can talk with the others later about our departure.” Joshua glanced again at the spot where the destroyer had been lurking. He’d grown somewhat used to the sight of the ship, and with it gone the sea looked oddly barren. Wondering where she’d sailed, Joshua followed Isabelle into the trees. For the first time since he’d been on the island, he didn’t feel as if the jungle was some kind of immense green oven he’d stepped into. The air was damp and cool. The birds and animals were silent and seemingly forlorn.

“It feels like a different place,” Isabelle said, walking carefully so that she’d leave no sign of her passing.

Joshua noted his wife’s precise steps and smiled. “Two weeks ago you were the best nurse on
Benevolence
. And now you’re moving through the jungle as if you’d been born here.”

“
Benevolence
had a lot of good nurses. We were very lucky in that department.”

“But you were the best, Izzy. And everyone knew it. Why do you think all the doctors wanted you? Why couldn’t you ever get a moment’s peace?”

“I was happy to help,” she said, knowing he was right but unwilling to admit as much.

“Still as stubborn as a mule,” he said, half under his breath. Then he smiled. “Anyway, more important, how are you feeling?”

“Now you’re my nurse?”

“No. Just a worried husband. Though you could probably use a nurse.”

“Well, you needn’t worry, Josh. I feel fine. A bit tired by the end of the afternoon, but that’s to be expected.”

“Maybe you should start taking naps.”

“I’ve never napped. I wouldn’t know how to—”

“Would you do that for me? Please?”

“But I’m getting plenty of sleep.”

“Then just sit and rest.” When she didn’t respond, he thought of the past few days, of how Isabelle was often husking coconuts or washing clothes or collecting drinking water. She was used to doing more work than anyone, and he wondered how he could possibly slow her down. “Please,” he said, “for me, don’t work so hard. I’ll sleep better if you don’t work so hard.”

“Alright, Joshua,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “I’ll sleep more. I’ll do it.”

Deciding that he’d seek Annie’s assistance on this front, he opted to let the matter rest. He swatted at a mosquito. The pest tumbled through the air, righted itself, and came at him again. “Why haven’t we gotten malaria?” he asked, swinging a second time.

“Simple enough. The mosquitoes here don’t seem to be infected.”

“But what if they are?”

“Well, we’ve got plenty of quinine now that Dr. Burton’s case has been found.”

Joshua had seen more than enough malaria patients, including Annie, to understand the significance of having ample amounts of quinine. “That was a lucky break,” he said. “Finding his kit, that is.”

“What did you say to Akira anyway?”

Shaking his head, he replied, “I had a right to be angry. And he understood that.”

A large bat hanging from the underside of a branch stretched its wings above them. Isabelle paused, leaned against the tree, and studied the bat. “Funny how they like to sleep upside down, isn’t it?”

Joshua was tempted to ask her if she’d brought up the discovery of Dr. Burton’s case because she thought he’d been too hard on Akira. But he quickly realized that Isabelle was direct enough that if she wanted to tell him that he’d mishandled the situation, she’d simply do so. Deciding that he was being too sensitive when it came to questions about his leadership, he forced away memories of the morning’s confrontation. He sensed that she wanted to enjoy their walk, and he sought to lift her spirits. “How do they go to the bathroom like that?” he asked, nodding toward the bat. “Don’t they foul themselves?”

She smiled. “Only you’d think of that. For all your prayers, you can still be quite the deviant.”

“God doesn’t mind a little deviance,” he replied, grinning. “If you know where to look, you’ll find it in the good book. And I’d say it’s a fair question. Bats are either flying or hanging upside down. So one way or another, there’s a lot of bat urine in the air.”

“Joshua!”

“And bat poop, I should add.”

“And I’m standing under it!” she said, quickly moving forward.

He hurried to catch her, taking her hand before she could walk too fast. Over the past few months they’d rarely held hands while walking, and, enjoying the link, he continued to slow their pace. He watched her as she confidently strode forward, and suddenly found himself surprised that such a talented, brilliant, and attractive woman would find him of interest. “How did I find you?” he asked.

She pointed out a thorn-filled bush for him to avoid. “I found you, Josh. It wasn’t the other way around.”

“You’ll never let me forget that, will you?”

“Why would I?”

He smiled, recalling how she’d asked him to dance. That first night with her—a night of dancing and laughing and a good-night kiss—had been one of the most thrilling experiences of his life. “I’m glad,” he said, “that I’m here with you now. Though no good will ever come of
Benevolence
sinking, at least . . . at least it brought us closer together.”

Isabelle turned to him as they started to climb the hill that Scarlet was perched atop. “But why did we need to be brought together?” she asked somewhat abruptly. “How did we drift apart?”

He shrugged. “Too many responsibilities. We both had too many, and we took each other for granted.”

“I don’t want that to happen again.”

“It won’t.”

“But how can you say that? Really, Joshua, how can you?”

“Because when this war’s over, life will go back to normal. And it will be like this.”

“Like you telling me about bat poop?”

Nodding, he pretended to nervously glance above. “We’ll have to move somewhere with lots of bats. Just so we’ll feel at home.”

“So this island is home now?”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” he said, smiling. “But I feel closer to you now than . . . than I think I ever have.”

“Why now? Because of our child?”

He helped her up a fairly steep section of the hill. “I don’t know, exactly. But just being here with you. There’s no one in the world I’d rather be here with.”

“And?”

“You need more?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I’m a naval captain. Not a poet like your sister or her new friend.”

“So try, naval captain. Try to tell me how you feel.”

He slipped, letting go of her hand so as not to pull her down with him. Brushing off his knees, he stood up. “Sometimes,” he said, “when I look at my father and see him all shriveled up and in pain, lying in bed, I’m afraid of getting old.”

“You are?”

“I think it’s my biggest fear.”

“Well, I think most people fear getting old. I wouldn’t worry about worrying.”