Beside A Burning Sea Part 21

"Are you mumbling to yourself again?" Ratu asked, wiping sand from another small treasure. "I tell you, you'd better stop that habit or one of those pretty nurses will lock you up."

"I reckon that ain't a bad fate."

"What? Being locked up, or the pretty nurse part?"

"What do you think?"

"What is the b.l.o.o.d.y big deal about women? I don't understand it, Big Jake. Why do men act like children when pretty women are about?"

"Someday you'll understand. That is, if you can find someone who's deaf or odd enough to have a hankering for the sound of your voice."

Ratu splashed Jake. "Oh, put a sock in it, Big Jake. Why don't you find some sh.e.l.ls instead of teaching me about women? I don't see any pretty women around you, by the way."

"They're all holding tight in Missouri. Ain't going nowhere until I get back."

"Waiting for you? Ha! They'd better b.l.o.o.d.y well find something else to do."

Jake chuckled, glad to finally be done with all of the fishing. His muscles ached, and the simple process of searching for sh.e.l.ls was much more enjoyable than he'd have thought. It reminded him of being a child and looking for arrowheads while he helped till the farm. He'd found dozens and had filled his mother's canning jars with them. Where are them jars? he wondered, thinking he'd ship some arrowheads to Ratu.

Jake glanced at Ratu's necklace. Tying the shark's biggest tooth to a thin strip of leather cut from Jake's belt had been far from easy. But they'd managed the task, and Ratu hadn't taken off the necklace since he looped it over his head. Jake knew that Ratu was eager to give the necklace to his father, just as he was excited to find sh.e.l.ls for his sisters and a stone of some sort for his mother.

"Tell me about them sisters," Jake said.

"See, there you go again."

"What?"

"You complain that I do too much talking, and then as soon as I stop you ask me a question. I tell you, Big Jake, I can't b.l.o.o.d.y well answer questions without talking."

"Well, now, ain't you got a point for a change?"

"You think I talk a lot? You should meet my sisters. Maybe someday you will. Anyway, they're always asking me to pretend to be a husband, a father, a doctor, or some bloke who they're in love with. They make necklaces out of sugarcane and ask that I put them around their necks. They do a lot of silly things like that."

Coming from a big family himself, Jake understood. "It sounds real nice," he said, avoiding a sea urchin as he continued to look for sh.e.l.ls.

Ratu absently fingered his necklace. "It is nice, Big Jake. Cracking good, really. At night . . . at night we all sleep on the floor of our hut together. My mother and father are on one side, with my five sisters and me on the other. On some nights my father tells us stories. But if he's out drinking kava or something, then I tell the stories. Each night I tell a tale about our family, like we're on some great adventure. And each night one of my sisters is the hero. They all take turns being the hero, and if I don't make them do enough wonderful things, they ask for more."

Jake handed Ratu a spiral sh.e.l.l that had been cut in half. "This one sure is pretty."

"Oh yes. Brilliant. My baby sister, Bari, will fancy that. She likes to look inside things. Thanks, mate."

A gust of wind ruffled the surface of the harbor. Jake, who had spent so much of his life outside, knew that a storm was approaching. "Let's gather a few more sh.e.l.ls, Ratu, and then wrap up all them fish. I expect we're gonna get wetter than muskrats tonight."

"Sure, sure. But first we must find a sh.e.l.l for Kesea. She's my oldest sister, and she's seen most everything."

Jake started to search the sea again, musing over how much he enjoyed Ratu's company. For a moment, Jake was jealous of Ratu's father. How wonderful it would be to have a son like Ratu, to be able to teach such a son what was worth teaching. Thinking of fatherhood, Jake couldn't help but wonder what kind of son he'd been. Mostly he'd done as was asked, though he hadn't stayed on the farm like his brothers, but had looked for a way to get into the war-a war that sometimes felt as if it had nothing to do with his people. Jake could still remember his mother asking him why he was going off to fight in a white man's war. He'd thought about his answer for the rest of the day, finally telling her that it was a war for freedom and that any such war was his war as well. She'd stopped peeling potatoes, nodded slowly to him, and never mentioned the subject again.

The wind continued to tug at the sea, and Jake wished that his parents could witness such a sight, if only for a moment. Neither had been outside Missouri, and he felt it unfair that they didn't even know such a world existed. Thinking that perhaps his mother would also enjoy a sh.e.l.l, Jake started to scan the sand with her in mind. He'd give her a pretty sh.e.l.l after the war was won, and she'd nod to him once again. And she'd understand what the sh.e.l.l meant and why he'd brought it all that way for her.

DUSK DID NOT ARRIVE that night with glowing colors. The gray sky merely got darker. As it became an infinite shadow, Akira labored deep in the jungle. His work focused on an area surrounding a small body of water that at one point had been connected to a nearby stream. The pool was roughly the size of a jeep and was several feet deep. Rising above it stood some of the most beautiful trees on the island. The trunks that ascended for seventy or eighty feet had no bark, but instead what seemed to be a pale, green skin. The leaves were broad and numerous and formed a thick ceiling.

Dragging old limbs from the nearby underbrush, Akira created a series of woodpiles that formed a large circle around the pool of water. He then carefully positioned fist-sized rocks within the piles. He created haikus as he worked, thinking of ways to describe the jungle, the trees, the noises around him. The words came easily, much to his surprise, for he was nervous about the evening.

Akira started to spread out small treasures that he'd collected earlier in the day. He outlined a path to the pool with sand dollars, and hung golden and lime and violet orchids from nearby branches. Orchids were plentiful in certain parts of the island, and he'd worked carefully to select ten of the most beautiful flowers that he could find.

As if whatever was within the circle was a part of his home, Akira methodically cleaned its interior. Any stray leaf or twig was carried beyond the circle. Any sharp rock was also removed. Using a branch dipped in the stream, he sprinkled water over the area, further purifying it. He tossed the branch far into the jungle and then slowly reexamined everything. Finally content, he began the walk to camp.

With the limited visibility brought by the approaching storm, there was no chance of detection from a plane or ship, and people were eating a fresh batch of fish around a fire they'd made near the sea. Annie was at the old fire pit, pretending to organize her medical supplies. Akira wordlessly emerged from the jungle, took a burning branch from the fire, and led her away from the sea. They didn't speak as they walked within the light cast by the torch. Each was anxious. Akira wasn't sure if what he'd prepared would be to her liking. Annie wondered why she was taking these steps and if she should stop and turn around. She thought of Ted, thought of how he loved her in his own way, and even though it wasn't a way of her choosing, she hesitated betraying him.

Deep within the jungle, they came upon the circle of woodpiles, and, entering it, Akira motioned for her to sit atop a smooth rock by the water. He then took his torch and began to light each of the piles. One by one the piles burned, and with the addition of each gathering of wood, the halo of light strengthened. Before long the collective light was strong enough to illuminate the trees and the flowers. Each tree seemed to come alive, its trunk painted gold by the fires. The orchids' shadows were almost as beautiful as the flowers themselves.

The fires grew, and soon Akira and Annie were sitting within a ring of flames. He'd placed the wood carefully, and the fire wasn't in danger of spreading. It swayed and moved as if it had always been a part of the jungle, as if it were no more perilous than the trees above.

Annie turned to him, taking his hands in her own. "It's perfect," she said, the beauty of what he'd created compelling her to touch him.

"Just wait," he replied softly. "Kindly sit and wait."

She nodded, gently moving her thumb against the back of his hand. Though only a small part of her touched a small part of him, Akira had never felt anything as intimate. It seemed as if all of her embraced all of him. Her touch, warm and light, echoed throughout his entire body. His skin tingled. His heartbeat quickened and suddenly felt too powerful for his chest. He edged closer to her so that their knees touched.

The treetops swayed in the wind that managed to penetrate the jungle. The flames twisted and consumed. Otherwise the night was still. Annie continued to move her thumb against the back of his hand. She'd never touched a man in such a way and found the firmness of his flesh comforting and alluring.

"It is almost ready," he whispered, longing to return her touch, but also wanting to move slowly.

"What's almost ready?"

"Your surprise."

Her thumb paused for a moment. "This isn't it?"

"Not all of it. Just ten more minutes, yes?"

Annie nodded and watched the flames around her. She guessed that he'd created the fires in part to keep the bugs away, but the way he studied them made her think that they also played another role. He looked from fire to fire, sometimes squinting to see better.

"What," he asked, "do you think the trees look like?"

She sensed the nervousness in his voice, which endeared him more to her. She gazed upward, wondering how she could describe the slender golden trunks and the thick canopies of leaves. "It's like they're dancing above us," she said. "As if . . . as if they're a part of some ancient play that we'll never understand."

"Ah, I like that," he replied. "Especially the second half."

"I want to remember what they look like, so that someday I can paint them."

"Then you must close your eyes and try to see them again."

Annie briefly did as he suggested, though she had a hard time concentrating on what the trees looked like while her flesh pressed against his. Acknowledging her touch with a slight nod and smile, Akira gently removed his hands from hers. He picked up a long bamboo pole that he'd leaned against a tree earlier. Placing the pole into the innards of the first fire he'd lit, he jostled the burning logs around, looking for embers. "This fire is hot," he said, mostly to himself. "Wonderfully hot."

Akira used the pole to push a mango-shaped stone from the fire. The stone, which had been painted black by smoke and flames, steamed as it rolled over the damp earth. He continued to push it with the pole until he sent it dropping with a hiss into the pool of water. Moving back to the same fire, he repeated the process a second and third and fourth time. He then walked to the next fire and again proceeded to move searing stones into the water. After moving about thirty stones, he felt the water with his fingers, and smiled. "Almost. You can wait another few minutes, yes?"

Mesmerized by the sight of him working with the long pole amid the fires, Annie nodded but didn't speak. Akira returned his attention to the stones, moving them with great care and patience, smiling as they hissed when entering the water. He checked the temperature again and set his pole down. "Are you ready?" he asked.

"For . . . for a bath?"

Taking care to move slowly, Akira knelt at the edge of the pool and removed a thick cloth from his pocket. He tied the cloth around his head so that he couldn't see. "In ancient j.a.pan," he said, "the best ma.s.seuses were the blind ma.s.seuses. People would travel great distances to see a blind ma.s.seuse."

Annie felt her heart quicken. Though she wanted him, though she needed him, a part of her was afraid to move. Again she thought of Ted, wishing that he made her feel the way Akira did, wishing that she had the strength to control her longing. "Why . . . why were the blind so good?" she finally asked, her voice sounding unfamiliar to her.

"Because a blind ma.s.seuse proceeds by touch alone," he replied, trying to suppress his mounting anxiety. "A blind ma.s.seuse could do many things that someone with sight could not."

She didn't reply, but instead watched him. He continued to kneel with his back straight and his hands by his sides. Perched upon a nearby tree, a violet orchid fluttered gently in the wind. She realized that he'd placed the flowers so that each petal faced her. Even the patterns on the sand dollars seemed to be aligned in her direction. The thought that he'd taken such care to present her with as much beauty as possible warmed her. Better yet, he hadn't called any attention to what he'd done. He'd simply done it, knowing that she would notice.

"It's all . . . so beautiful," she said, yearning to touch him but remaining still. "It's almost like . . . you created a poem. A poem just for me."

"Do you . . . remember the gardener?"

"Yes."

"I have also been inspired. Like never before."

No longer able to remain motionless, Annie slowly undressed, setting her clothes aside. Soon she was standing in her undergarments. Standing not free of guilt, but of indecision. Nervous and excited and trembling with emotion, she removed the last impediments to her flesh. She walked to the edge of the pool. Dipping her foot within it, she was surprised by the wonderful heat of the water. Carefully, she stepped into the pool, sighing in pleasure as the water rose to her thighs, then belly, then chest.

Akira reached to his left and handed her a smooth plank of wood, which he'd found on the beach. "Here," he said, holding it out for her, "please sit on this."

Annie took the plank and slid it beneath her. She then moved to the edge of the pool, so that she was as close to him as possible. The water was almost up to her neck, and again she sighed as the heat penetrated her muscles and bones. She'd never been in such a large bath, and she reached out into the water and stretched her arms. Taking a long and deep breath, she closed her eyes and tried to ignore her racing mind.

Still blindfolded, Akira gently touched the top of her head. He let his hands remain motionless for a moment, as if they needed to become acquainted with her skin. He moved his fingertips in small circles atop her scalp. He concentrated as he worked, not knowing how she liked to be touched. Soon he let his fingers go flat against her, using his palms to move and stroke her scalp. He gently pulled on her hair, and she groaned in pleasure at this unfamiliar sensation.

His fingers slowly descended, and he traced the contours of her ears, tugging tenderly on her earlobes. He then started to rub her neck, his hands caressing her flesh-as if it were the last time that he'd ever touch a woman and he wanted to commit the sensation to memory. He sought out her muscles and worked on them carefully-compressing and releasing, twisting and straightening. Annie gradually leaned back into him, for she wanted to feel more of his touch. He obliged her by moving so close to the pool that she could rest her head against his knees.

Akira started to explore her shoulders, running his forefingers atop the rise and fall of her flesh. He traced her collarbone, delighted in the hollow of her neck, felt the subtle edge of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. His fingers began to ma.s.sage the body beneath them, squeezing the tight muscles along her shoulder blades. Working in darkness, Akira was acutely aware of how her body responded to his touch. He applied more pressure when it was sought, less when it was not. Though his pulse raged like a mountain stream in springtime, he moved unhurriedly.

Reaching behind him, Akira felt for an orchid that he'd laid upon the ground. Finding it, he placed it in his hands and rolled it vigorously between his palms until the flower's fragrance seeped into his skin. He then reached around her to ma.s.sage her face. His forefingers traced the curves of her eyes and nose and lips. Annie kissed his fingers as they pa.s.sed, and suddenly unable to bear the distance between them, she turned around, her hands rising to remove his blindfold.

He opened his eyes and consumed the sight of her. She was precious and pet.i.te and beyond his imaginings. He saw her as living art and shook his head in wonder at the beauty of her creation.

No one had ever touched Annie as Akira had, and her eyes were drawn to his fingers. "I've been . . . I've searched for you so long," she whispered, simultaneously vulnerable and potent, intoxicated with newfound emotions. "I didn't think you existed."

He placed his hands on her face. She gripped his wrists and moved back, so that he was pulled into the water. He wanted to speak to her, but words had abandoned him. He was without thought, without direction, but alive with wonder. He eased against her and his arms encircled her, drawing her closer. His lips felt her mouth, her neck, her eyes. He tasted her. His hands journeyed about her, delighting in each discovery.

Soon he was naked. Soon the water began to cool, but they did not know it. No thoughts or discomforts or distractions existed-only the overwhelming feeling of a world of their making. A world that spun around them, engulfed them, lifted them a thousand feet in the air, and left them breathless and wanting more.

DAY ELEVEN.

Man thinks himself strong, Until the sky reminds him.

Ants explore green trees.

The Island

The rain came not long after dawn, dripping from a somber sky as if a trillion wet towels hung above. A schizophrenic wind started and stopped and changed directions. The wind's uncertainty seemed to infect every creature on the island with a similar sense of bewilderment. Birds flew toward distant horizons and then flew back. Frogs ceased to croak. Insects were suddenly nowhere to be seen. Even the fish that usually darted about the shallows sought deeper water.

Standing in the rain, Joshua scanned the sky, which perplexed him greatly. He'd seen such skies before and knew that they portended nothing good. But these conditions had arrived so fast. He'd gone to sleep with little more than a gentle wind and gray clouds, and had awoken to a world that seemed at odds with itself. Is this why the destroyer left? he anxiously asked himself. Was she seeking safer waters?

Roger stood next to Joshua, trying to read his face as hard as Joshua was trying to read the weather. He knew that his adversary was debating putting the lifeboat to sea. And he very much wanted the captain and his wife to drown. "What do you think?" he asked, feigning ignorance.

Joshua grimaced, not wanting Roger's company and in no mood for such a conversation. "That a storm is coming," he replied. "A big storm."

Recalling how the fool had tried to keep up with him in the jungle, and knowing that his failure to do so was a sore spot, Roger said, "Why don't I row the boat to the cave? I could make better time than anyone."

"I don't think you'd find it from the sea. It's almost impossible to spot."

"It can't be that hard. You found it easy enough."

Joshua pretended that Roger's words didn't register. Licking his finger, he held it aloft. After its temperamental start, the wind seemed to be mostly blowing from the southeast. Though he was tempted to turn the lifeboat upside down over the food and lash the boat down, Isabelle had awoken with a bad stomach ache, and he didn't want her making the difficult trek across the island. "If something develops," he said, "it's not going to happen for a few hours. That's plenty of time for me to row around the island."

Roger wanted to smile. Instead he said, "Well, you'd better get going."

Uncertain what to think of Roger's behavior, Joshua nodded and walked over to the lifeboat. The vessel was filled with all of their provisions. The slices of fish that were already dry had been carefully wrapped in leaves and shouldn't succ.u.mb to the elements. The medical supplies, a pile of fresh fruit, and several full canteens lay in the stern of the craft. Knowing that he'd occupy an entire seat to row the boat, and that their supplies consumed a great deal of s.p.a.ce, Joshua figured that he could take two pa.s.sengers. Ratu had already asked for a spot, so that meant that he, Isabelle, and Ratu would soon be leaving.

Joshua found his two traveling companions and Jake. He asked Jake to help launch the boat, and soon the two men pushed it toward the water. When the craft touched the sea, Joshua returned to camp. With Jake, Roger, and Nathan crowded around him, he said, "I want to leave before the storm gets any worse."

"That ain't an awful idea, Captain," Jake said.

Joshua glanced around camp and saw that Annie and Akira were huddled under the banyan tree. "Where's Scarlet?" he asked.

"Atop the hill, sir," Nathan said, worried for her, wishing that she hadn't insisted on going up alone.

Joshua sighed. "She's not going to spot a ship in this mess."

"Easier to spy a penny in a puddle," Jake replied. "Want me to fetch her?"

"Yes, please. And when you get back to camp, everyone immediately head to the cave. I don't like the looks of this storm. Not one bit."

Jake shook Joshua's hand. "Good luck, Captain. I reckon we'll see you in a few hours."

"Do you remember my instructions on how to find the cave?"

"I surely do."