War of the Eagles (25 page)

Most of the time we rode in silence. This wasn't like Smitty and I knew he was nervous. I was nervous as well.

“Up ahead, you see the rocks just by the village?” I asked, pointing at about two o'clock. “The buck is just to this side of the cliff, so head straight at it.”

Soon we were on the trail I'd used twice; once fol–lowing the deer and the second time coming back to camp. Rounding the last corner, the cover, anchored down and marked with the red flag, was clearly visible. Smitty pulled up right in front and then began jockey–ing the buggy back and forth to position the trailer as close as possible to the buck. We both climbed out and started removing the cover.

“Looks all right,” I commented. “I don't think any–thing got into it.” If not for the gaping bullet hole I could have believed it was just sleeping.

“Big one,” Smitty said.

“Do you think we'll be able to get it up onto the trailer?” I asked, realizing there usually were at least two other people with me to help with that task.

“Don't worry. Where muscle fails, we need to use brains.”

Smitty started to pull rope and pulleys out of the trailer. He flung one end of the rope over a branch above the carcass. He gathered in the end and fed it into a pulley.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” I asked.

“Nope. What you could do is go under the front seat of the buggy. I had your mother pack us a few sandwiches and a thermos of coffee. A coffee would go good right now. It's getting cool.”

I followed his directions. I opened the thermos and a cloud of warm steam escaped into the air. I poured a cup and resealed it to keep the rest hot. Smitty hooked the rope around the buck's neck and started to use the pulley to raise it off the ground. I stood and watched, holding his coffee. Without too much effort Smitty slowly lifted the buck off the ground. The overhead branch sagged and creaked but held as the carcass was lifted into the air. He continued to haul the rope through the pulley system until the deer was level with the trailer. He then tied the rope in place using a knot which would release with one tug. He walked toward me and took the coffee, taking a sip.

“Your turn now. Move the buggy so the trailer is right underneath while I finish my coffee.”

I climbed aboard and settled into the driver's seat. I turned the key in the ignition and the engine sparked to life. I had only driven the buggy once before. The gears on it were different than a truck or car, and I fumbled around trying to find reverse. I let out the clutch and rocketed forward instead and it stalled out. I didn't even want to look at Smitty. I started again and found reverse. What made things even more confusing was the action of the trailer. It seemed to turn the op–posite way to what I thought it would. Slowly, moving back and forth, I got it to bump into, and then under the buck. I looked back at Smitty and he gave me a thumbs up.

He put the cup down on the dashboard of the vehicle and walked around to where he'd tied off the rope. He undid the knot and lowered the deer into the flatbed of the trailer. He pulled one end of the rope out from under the deer, disconnected the pulley and threw all the equipment into the back alongside the buck.

“That was easy,” I observed.

“Brains over brute force. Usually you bring a couple of the guys who are big on muscle power but short on mental power.”

“No one could argue you don't have brain power.”

Smitty laughed. “Anybody who knew I was even thinking about going along with you on this little outing would figure I was brain dead.”

“It's good nobody knows,” I said.

“Too late for that.”

I gave him a questioning gaze.

“I told your mother.”

My mouth dropped open. “You told my mother!”

“Yeah. I wasn't going to have any part of this without her knowing. And if you don't like it, too bad, so don't give me that look!”

I tried to regain my composure. “What did she say?

Did she get mad?”

“You know your mother. She didn't say a lot. She said to be careful and if anything happened to you she'd make sure I never ate at the camp again.”

“But she didn't say we shouldn't do it?”

“No,” he answered, “but she didn't say we should do it either. She just said we should be careful.”

“Good. Come on, let's get going. It's dark enough to provide some cover. Did you bring along flashlights?”

“Flashlights?” Smitty replied. “I thought you'd bring them.”

I walked away over to the buggy and rummaged around under the passenger side seat. I pulled out a box, and flipped open the lid to reveal, amongst other things, two large flashlights.

“You can't fool me all the time. No way you'd ever leave the camp unprepared.”

Smitty smiled and then climbed in behind the wheel.

“Jed, my boy, you're getting older and wiser.”

He turned the key and started us forward. “Which way around this pile of rocks?”

“Swing to the right. It's longer but I think it'll be easier.”

I felt my stomach tighten as we rocked and bumped over the rough ground. I was very glad Smitty was with me.

Not just for the company or to help but because I knew I couldn't back out. I said it, and now I had to do it.

We entered the village along the familiar path be–tween it and my Naani's village.

Almost as if on cue, clouds rolled over top and sealed out the moon and the stars. The only illumination was from the headlights of the buggy. The houses, fences and sheds all cast shadows when the light touched each in turn as we rolled down the center of the street. The engine drowned out any hint of other sounds, including the roar of the ocean. I felt like we were being watched from every window. I yelled out directions to Smitty and we came to a stop in front of Tadashi's home. He turned off the engine and I was struck by the silence of the village. I climbed out immediately. Smitty stayed seated behind the wheel and moved his head to look all around.

“Even in the dark it looks like a pretty little place,”

Smitty noted. “So, what's the plan, boss?”

“Could you go down to the dock? If there's anybody here, they probably would have come by boat.”

“So, no boats, no people. What are you going to do?”

“I'm going to go into the house,” I replied solemnly.

Smitty leaned over and pulled out the two flashlights. He handed one to me and, taking the second, climbed out of the vehicle. Smitty snapped on his flashlight and a powerful beam swept out before him, lighting a path. He followed the light in the direction of the waves wash–ing into the shore.

I turned on my light. Its beam flooded through the gate, up the path and splashed onto the front door of Tadashi's house. Walking up the path, I glanced to the side at the faint images of the delicate shrubs filling the garden. Deliberately I didn't train my light anywhere other than the path. The shapes of the shrubs seemed spooky. I thought of spirits.

The windows were dark and the curtains drawn. I stopped and knocked on the door. I knew nobody was home, but it just seemed like the right thing to do. I turned the knob and swung the door open. Stepping across the threshold, I swept the beam around the room. I was relieved to see everything was still in place. Nothing had been disturbed. I'd expected to find things missing or destroyed.

“Hello … is anybody here?” I called out. I didn't ex–pect to get a reply but wanted to have the company of my voice. The walls and empty air absorbed my words. I moved through the house, room by room. Everything was so normal I almost expected to see Tadi and his family sleeping peacefully in their beds. Somehow that made it even harder. I felt like I was the looter, like I was the one violating their home. Maybe I could just leave and nobody would break in and take their belongings.

In my head I knew this was a lie. I knew that whatever I didn't take would be lost, either to the looters or to the government. I had to make some decisions. I couldn't take every–thing so I had to take the most important things. The dining room table stood off to my side. I walked over and sat down, folding my legs underneath. I turned the flashlight off and sat in the darkness. I had to think through my next steps.

I heard sounds behind me and turned to see a ray of light coming up the path.

“Hello!” Smitty called out.

“I'm over here.”

“Where?” he asked, sweeping the beam of light around the room until it found me. “Why don't you have your flashlight on? Is it broken?”

I switched the light back on. “No, I just wanted dark–ness for a minute to think. Are there any boats?”

“Nobody there,” he began. “How come you haven't started loading?”

“I can't decide what to take.”

“It would be hard,” Smitty agreed. “You're trying to decide for people who aren't even here, what they'd want you to take. I think what you have to do is look for things that can't be replaced, that are important to them. Not necessarily worth much money but valuable in other ways.”

I rose from the table, unfolding my legs. I remem–bered the first time I'd sat squat-legged at this table. The dozens and dozens of other times I'd shared much more than a meal with this family filled my mind.

“I know where to start.” I went to the head of the table. “Pick up the other end.”

“The table?”

“Yes, the table.”

We maneuvered it out through the door and placed it carefully on its side on the trailer beside the buck.

Over the next hour we went back and removed pic–tures from the walls, sleeping mats, a delicate oriental screen, a mantle clock, clothing they hadn't been able to take, and, most important, dishes and serving bowls.

Smitty went outside to make sure everything was tied down, while I made a last minute search of the house. The beam of light moved around the room, hunting out corners and hidden spots. Moving one last time through Tadashi's room, I saw something partially hidden in the corner of the closet. It was his baseball glove. I thought of the hours we played ball together. I picked it up and tucked it under my arm.

The noise of the buggy starting up outside jarred me into motion. I made my way to the front door and then turned off the flashlight. Looking back, I could make out very little in the sudden and total darkness. I didn't want to see what remained but to remember what once was. In the darkness I could imagine Tadi and his family safely in their beds, their belongings filling their house, and I could come back again tomorrow. But I knew it would never be the same. I knew I'd never walk in this house again. My mother was right. Some things were just too big. Once they'd been done, they could never be undone.

“Goodbye,” I said softly. I closed the door for the final time.

The path between Sikima and my house was fairly straight and flat. Smitty opened up the buggy, getting it all the way up to third gear. In less than ten minutes we were passing the first house on the outskirts of my village. It was a broken down little house, as crooked as the old man, my grandmother's cousin, who lived there. The lights showing in the windows were welcome signs of life.

Smitty changed gears, slowing us down, and then brought us to a stop in front of my Naani's place. The curtains in the front window were drawn, but there was still light leaking out along the edges.

“Does your grandmother realize how much stuff we're bringing?” Smitty asked.

“No, not really. Actually she doesn't know we're bringing anything.”

“What?”

“Don't worry, there won't be any problem. There's never a problem with my Naani. Come on, you'll see.”

I bounded out of the buggy.

I pushed open the door. “Naani, I'm home!” Smitty followed in behind me.

Naani came out of the kitchen.

“Hello, grandson. I see you brought your friend.

Hello, Smitty. Come, both of you, into the kitchen and I'll put on a pot of tea.”

“Thanks, Naani, but before we do that we have a few things to bring in from the buggy.”

“Things, what kind of things?” she asked. I had al–ready explained about the looters to her before I headed to school this morning.

“From Tadashi's house,” I said quietly.

“Much?”

“Afraid so,” Smitty replied.

She walked out of the living area into the kitchen.

I followed after her and Smitty followed me. I felt a deadening in my chest. What if she wouldn't let me store the things here? What would I do with them? I couldn't, or I guess, wouldn't put them back now. She walked over to the stove, picked up the kettle, and filled it. She placed it on one of the burners of the stove and flicked a match to light the burner.

“What kind of tea ya like, Smitty?” she asked.

“Any kind is fine.”

“Jed, show him the kinds we got and then make what he wants. I'll be back. I want to see the stuff you brought.”