Beside A Burning Sea Part 30

"May I ask why you are up here?" he said. "Isabelle is searching for you. She asked me where you were, and I did not know."

"We fought. It was horrible and . . . and I just needed to find somewhere to think."

"So you climbed to the top of a tree?"

"I wanted to escape."

He sat beside her on the limb, one of his hands coming to rest on her leg while he held a branch with the other. A gust of wind penetrated the jungle, and he felt the tree lean to the side. "May I inquire as to why you fought?"

She looked at his face, finding solace in his eyes and lips. "Isabelle was just being my big sister," she answered, gently touching her foot against his.

"She was worried for you, yes?"

"Yes."

"Because . . . because of me?"

"She isn't one to take chances. She has a plan for everything."

"And I am a . . . chance?"

Annie wasn't sure if she detected a new expression on his face. Was it pain? Disappointment? "You're not a chance," she said, turning to kiss him. She had a sudden desire to crawl into his arms, but being unable to do so, she rested her head against his shoulder. Through a thin opening in the canopy before her, she watched the sky. "Thank you for finding me," she said quietly.

"I was missing you."

She smiled at these words, happy to have been missed. "A part of me is afraid, Akira," she admitted, wanting to tell him everything.

"Of the future?"

"Of what might happen to us."

He kissed the top of her head. "You do not have to be afraid."

"But why not? Our countries are at war, and we have no idea what the future might bring."

"We control what happens to us."

"You can't say that."

He nodded, wishing that he could kiss the scratches on her legs. "Some things I can say," he replied. "I can say that . . . that if you want me by your side, I will be by your side. I can say that every war has an end, and that every day has a new beginning."

A bird landed in the tree next to them. The wind blew again, and both trees swayed in tandem. "I'm afraid of losing you," she said, watching the bird, for the briefest of moments avoiding Akira's eyes. "Now that I've finally found you, I can't imagine losing you."

"See how the trees move together?"

"They're beautiful."

"But we cannot see them dance from below. How wonderful it is to see them dance from so high." Akira turned his head so that he could inhale the scent of her.

"Why do you like to do that?" she asked. "To smell me?"

"Because I want . . . each of my senses to feel you. And because I think . . . I think I like the smell of you the best."

"But why?"

"Because . . . that way I can bring you into me."

She kissed his shoulder. "I love you," she said quietly. "Those three words . . . have always been a mystery to me. Like some language I couldn't speak. But now I finally know what they mean."

He smiled, moving on the branch so that he was even closer to her. "I like it here, in these dancing trees. Thank you for showing them to me."

"You're welcome."

The tree continued to sway. The sky darkened. "Your sister is worried," he said. "You should go to her, yes?"

"I'm angry at her."

Akira watched a small green beetle climb across his leg. "I am an only child. So I have never fought with a brother or a sister."

"Sisters fight a lot."

"I think it would be wonderful to have a sister. Or a brother."

She shrugged. "It can be."

"A sibling would be the one person in the whole world who . . . who would be with you from birth until death. At every step, she or he would be there."

"That's true. I've never thought of it like that."

"It would be a beautiful thing, I am sure."

"Are you trying to tell me something?" she asked, familiar with how he liked to give advice through his stories and musings.

He smiled, stroking the skin of her leg. "Tonight, after the others have gone to sleep, will you join me for a swim? The moon is almost full, and I discovered a place where there are no rocks or waves. Just sand and water."

Annie took his free hand within hers. "I have a price."

"A price?"

"I want you to write a poem. In j.a.panese. In the sand."

He found her eyes. "May I ask why in j.a.panese?"

"Because that's who you are. And I'd like to watch as you write it. And to listen as you speak it." She kissed him and then carefully moved toward the tree's trunk. She started to descend.

As Akira followed her, he thought about what he would write. He watched the trees sway, wondering how he could bring life to their dance while simultaneously describing his love for her.

Much later, when the right words finally blossomed within him, he could do little more than turn his eyes toward the setting sun and silently beseech it to hasten on its journey.

DAY FIFTEEN.

A ballet of wood.

The scent of her within me.

Has spring felt so fresh?

The First to Fall

A talkative gull awoke Joshua and Isabelle just before dawn. They always slept closest to the cave's entrance, for he liked to have a feel for the outside world, and she believed that the fresh air was healthier for their child. And so the gull only spurred the two of them to leave their sandy beds, and they started walking down the beach as the eastern side of the island was painted with a sapphire light.

Isabelle told him about her fight with Annie and their reconciliation at dinner. Joshua had siblings and understood that such confrontations were inevitable. Still, he was pleased to hear that they'd made amends, for while he realized that Isabelle had been trying to do what was right, she'd probably gone too far. He couldn't recall seeing Annie so happy, and as much as he also wondered about her future, he hoped that her relationship with Akira would somehow endure.

The sky continued to lighten as they walked along the rocky sh.o.r.e. All his years on the sea had linked Joshua to the world above, and he often glanced upward to see how the young day was evolving. He realized that it would be a good day for war. Clouds were unseen. Wind was nonexistent. And visibility was limitless. If he were commanding planes or ships, he'd send forth as many as possible to seek and destroy.

Not wanting to think about war, he took Isabelle's hand. She had always walked faster than he, as if she were forever late to her destination. And so he now slowed her down, forcing her to relax as he tried to do the same. She resisted for a moment, pulling him forward. But then she seemed to realize that no reason existed to hurry.

"You're not on Benevolence Benevolence," he said, remembering how she'd constantly rushed about the decks.

She gently squeezed his bandaged hand at the mention of his ship. "Strange how that seems so long ago."

"Maybe because so much has changed."

"Like what?"

"Like you being pregnant. Like Annie falling in love with a j.a.panese soldier. At this point, I don't think I'd be surprised if I woke up tomorrow and the ocean was purple."

"Well, for the moment it's still blue."

He smiled. "I'd forgotten how nice these walks can be."

She sought his eyes. "On Benevolence Benevolence, did you . . . did you try to forget such things?"

"What do you mean?"

Isabelle suppressed a grimace at a sudden cramp in her belly. "I didn't let myself think about those things at sea," she said. "Things like nice walks. There was just too much else to think about. I mean . . . how could I attend to my patients if I were daydreaming about home?"

"What about at night? Or when you were . . . washing your hair, or something like that?"

She shook her head. "I always thought about my patients. I asked myself who was going to die and who was going to live. And I tried to think of how I could help each person." When he didn't respond, she looked up at his face. "I'm sorry I didn't think about you, Josh. I wanted to. But . . . but I just couldn't. And maybe that's one of the reasons why we drifted apart."

"Don't be sorry. You saved so many of them. And there's still plenty of time to save me."

"I don't think I need to save you anymore. You've saved yourself."

"That's not true. If you weren't here I wouldn't have . . . climbed out of the hole I was in." He inhaled the sea's scent through his nose and deeply into his lungs, enjoying the sensation. "A few days ago you mentioned a little house by the ocean. Can you tell me about it? I'd like to hear more."

She stepped over a bloated jellyfish. "It needs to be old," she replied, speaking slowly, which was unusual for her. "Old so that we can fix it. A once-proud house that's been forgotten."

"And what about the nursery?"

"Oh, I suppose there will have to be ships in it."

"Even if it's a girl?"

"Especially if it's a girl."

Joshua smiled at her response, understanding all that it meant. "And you really want me to teach you how to sail?"

"Why should you get to have all the fun? I can be a captain too."

"You'd run a tight ship. So tight that you'd probably get a few extra knots out of her."

"More than a few, I'd say."

He grinned, glancing from the sea to the sky to her face. "I'm so lucky to have you," he said, his voice growing slightly more serious. "I just don't know how I'd manage without you. I don't even like to think about it."

"You'd manage."

He stopped and turned to her. "That isn't true, Izzy. In fact, nothing could be farther from the truth. And I thought about you a lot," he said, touching the tip of her nose with his forefinger. "All those long hours on the bridge. You were with me more than you knew."

"I was?"

"I wanted us to be like we once were. When we were young."

"Remind me what that was like."

"Like this," he replied, scratching absently at a bug bite. "We took walks. We talked. We laughed a lot."

"I remember laughing."

"So do I."

"Do you think the war changed us," she asked, "or did we change on our own?"

"What do you think?"

Isabelle took his hand and started walking again. "I think . . . I think we let the war change us."

"I-".