My Soul to Keep Part 20

"I hope he can give us a good deal on bug spray," Jessica said, slapping at a huge mosquito that had already found her bare calf. Her palm left a small smear of bright red blood behind. "d.a.m.n these things. I thought they disappeared until summer. Are there any mosquitoes in Paris?"

"Not that I can recall, no."

"Good."

David slid on his sungla.s.ses with his middle finger, and Jessica paused to admire his face. He always looked good in shades, but with his jaw set with a sense of purpose, and dressed in camouflage-pattern shorts and a matching T-shirt, she felt an impulse to drag him into the backseat and molest him. Jessica wondered how long it would take before they were settled on the island. And alone. This was seeming more and more like a good idea.

"Y'all are a shade early, but that's perfect. How are you? Rick Mantooth. Ready to roll on out?"

The man who met them on the wooden dock was stocky, crisped red from the sun-especially the rolls of fatty flesh on the back of his neck-and wore his silver hair shaved in a crew cut. He had a genuine Southern accent, the kind Jessica rarely heard south of Ocala and north of Homestead; most people in between, it seemed, were transplants from places anywhere but Southern. Jessica usually told visitors that Miami was more Caribbean than Dixieland; but they were no longer in Miami, she remembered. Their guide sounded like a genuine Florida cracker, one who would be proud to display the t.i.tle on a b.u.mper sticker.

"Mantooth. Where is that from?" Jessica asked him.

He grinned with rows of straight, tobacco-stained teeth. "Seminole, on my dad's side. He was a logger, started running airboats out here before n.o.body knew what one was hardly. Fact, that cabin we're heading out to is his too. Not afraid of snakes, are you?"

Jessica leveled a no-nonsense gaze at Mantooth, then glanced back at David. "What kind of snakes?"

Mantooth only laughed, reaching to take her duffel bag from her shoulder and nestle it inside the hollow of the airboat tied closest to them. The painted boat was aluminum, the size of a large powerboat, with a monstrous fan propeller and an elevated operator's seat at the rear. At the front, it had two rows of four aluminum seats with foam backs for pa.s.sengers. While he helped them load, Mantooth explained that airboats were best for traveling through the hammocks and marshes because they could glide across very shallow water.

Despite her nervousness at climbing into the unfamiliar boat, Jessica was in such a good mood that she found herself humming, of all things, John Denver's "Take Me Home Country Roads." No girlhood camping trip had ever been complete without it. After finding her seat, which was slightly damp, she sprayed herself with the can of Deep Woods Off David had rooted out of his duffel bag.

The boat bobbed while David and Mantooth loaded the last bag and climbed on board. The engine started with a deafening rush of wind and the churn of the motor. Mantooth pulled back on a long metal stick beneath his right hand, and the boat lurched backward.

"Oh, s.h.i.t..." Jessica muttered, grasping her aluminum handrail. She looked at David, who sat unsmiling beside her. "You okay?" she asked into his ear.

He nodded, smiling faintly, and held her hand so tightly that it almost hurt as the boat sped away from the dock. Jessica admired the sight of the ma.s.sive cypress tree trunks growing submerged alongside the boat's path. The trunks were adorned with air plants, like mammoth mutant spiders, much bigger than the ones that grew in their yard.

"Island's a good fifteen miles out!" Mantooth said over the air-boat's engine. Some of his words were nearly lost in the wind as the boat skated over the water. "Take us about thirty minutes in, and another thirty when I bring you back. Government owns most of the land, but some of the islands, like mine, are still private. There's plenty of island to keep you occupied this weekend, most likely. It's two, three square miles."

When David didn't respond, staring straight ahead through his impenetrable sungla.s.ses, Jessica turned around in her seat to shout up at Mantooth. "What kind of wildlife is out there?"

Mantooth revved the engine to increase the boat's speed. "Let's see ... Lots of egrets-there's one there. Wood storks. The occasional *gators. You'll want to steer clear if you see any waist-high mounds, since it's late spring-'gator egg-hatching time. Don't try to feed *em, that's for sure."

"Don't worry!" Jessica shouted back.

"No panthers or deer on the island. Sorry. Lots of birds, though. You'll see blue heron and ibis. And fishing's great. I got cane poles in back of the cabin, if you want to try your luck with the bluegill and largemouth ba.s.s. There's crayfish too."

"You hear that, David?" Jessica asked, concerned because he was so quiet. David only nodded, his eyes still straight ahead. Granted, David was usually withdrawn around people he didn't know, but she thought he'd be more interested in hearing what their guide had to say. He was the one who'd brought up fishing before. What could be bugging him?

"Other than that, it's pretty much like a standard beach," Mantooth went on. "Lots of sand for you to take in the sun. Not that either of y'all really needs a tan, I guess."

Very funny, Jessica thought, but decided to let the remark slide. "With all of these mosquitoes," she called, sounding slightly hoa.r.s.e, "I don't think I'll want to spend too much time lying out there anyway!"

"Yep, the skeeters are bad," Mantooth said. "There's lots more spray in the cabin, case you run out."

Jessica liked Mantooth's easy manner and cheerful features. She would feel so much more at ease if she knew she could pick up a telephone or a radio and find him ready to glide back to them in his airboat. She found herself wishing he wouldn't be so far away.

"How come there's no phone?" she shouted, and she had to repeat the question because it was drowned out in the noise as the boat skimmed over a bed of waterlogged saw gra.s.s.

"No lines," Mantooth shouted back, and Jessica nodded.

"We don't need a phone," David said in her ear, the first words he had spoken since the boat began its journey. "It's a vacation, remember?"

As the airboat pitched her deeper into the unknown and the wind whipped her short hair across her forehead, Jessica could think of a couple hundred reasons she might need a telephone- snakebite, alligator attack, sunstroke, broken limb, compulsive mother's urge to speak to Kira. She couldn't remember the last time she had been anywhere without a telephone. Suddenly, she felt as though the boat were transporting her hundreds of miles away from civilization rather than a few short miles from a roadway that led straight back to Dade County.

"What if something happens?" she called back to Mantooth.

He winked at her, his face.still broad with a smile. "Then you better hold on *til about five o'clock tomorrow. That's when I'm coming to pick y'all up."

Jessica bit her lip. "Listen ... Do you think you could swing by before then, maybe, just to-" David cut her off before she could finish her sentence, wrapping a heavy arm around her shoulder. His abrupt movement annoyed her-just a little. Instead of affectionate, the gesture felt almost rough.

"No need for that, Rick," David called to Mantooth, overpowering her words. "I'm sure we'll be just fine."

"I don't believe this. The light doesn't work," Jessica said, flipping up and down on the exposed switch built into the wooden wall of the cabin, which was in a woodsy, elevated portion of island. The house was built high on what looked like stilts, probably in case of flooding. They'd climbed twelve steps to get to the unlocked door.

"David, go run and try to catch that Mantooth guy. I can't believe he left us here without-"

"We have to crank up the generator first, baby."

David took off his sungla.s.ses and put them in his T-shirt breast pocket, gazing around the tiny room. There was a bed, all right; queen-sized, made up with a tightly pulled brown blanket in the middle of the open room, devouring most of the s.p.a.ce. A small pine table for two was pushed against the far wall, and then there was a tiny kitchen s.p.a.ce with a two-burner range and small oven, with a miniature aluminum sink beside them. A portable refrigerator stood in a corner adjacent to the oven. The only ornament in the room was a replica of an eighteenth-century musket mounted on the wall above the table.

Jessica sneezed. The room needed airing out. She made her way to the picture window across the east wall, hoping the screen was intact to keep the mosquitoes out. They'd been swarmed with the b.u.g.g.e.rs while their shoes got soggy as they climbed across the gra.s.sy shoal to the sh.o.r.e. Through the window, she saw a majestic array of cypress, royal palm, and pine trees; and, in the distance, aqua green of the water surrounding them. This would be a nice cabin, with some A.C.

"Okay. Found it," David called from the kitchenette, and she heard him fussing with machinery. "Guess we'll need power for the fridge, mainly. The stove is propane."

"Do we have any?"

David held up an aluminum can. "Ye of little faith ..."

The generator began to whir noisily. Much better, she thought. Some sign of the twentieth century.

Actually, the room was sort of quaint, built completely from wood. It was clean-swept and practical, almost like a lodge. From the outside, they'd been able to make out where the individual logs were secured together to build the walls.

Jessica walked past the bed to the bathroom and flicked on the switch. Wooden walls, a smooth wood toilet seat, linoleum floor. The sink was tiny and makeshift, but she was struck by the old-fashioned porcelain tub on bra.s.s legs. Nice touch, she thought, but a strangely sentimental detail in such a spare place.

"Well?" David asked her, bending over to unload the fried chicken and drinks into the fridge.

"It's cute. Daddy Mantooth had simple needs, I guess."

"I can't wait to take a look around the island," David said, and the cheeriness of the statement made Jessica notice his improved mood. "First, I'm going to find a fishing hole. Rick told me about a marsh near where he dropped us off."

"A marsh? Which one? It's all a marsh."

"Quiet, you. Here's our plan: I'll hunt and gather, and meanwhile you can pound our clothes with some stones to wash them. A return to the primal couple."

The primal couple. It had a nice ring to it. Smiling, Jessica surveyed David's smooth behind as he leaned over the refrigerator. She felt a glow of arousal, but ignored it. It was too d.a.m.n hot for s.e.x just now. That would have to wait.

"I'll pound the colors first, then the permanent press," she said instead. "I wonder which marsh is the cold water and which is the warm ... ?"

"Now, you're in the spirit."

Hand in hand, sticky and stinking from bug spray, they explored. The island was big enough that they could forget, at long intervals, they were on an island at all. On the edges of the water, where the saw gra.s.s and partially submerged trees grew, there was no doubt it was a swamp. But then the stretches of fine, dark sand began, followed by the brush and the woods. They found overgrown trails twisting through the wooded areas, and one path led to a rusting water pump built beside an oak tree.

"Think it works?" Jessica asked, enchanted.

David began to pump the handle, which squeaked loudly. Then water began to dribble out, growing into a thin stream. On an impulse, she raised her palm to catch the water, which was warm; but when she slurped it, the flavor was fresh and wholly clean, like the island, which smelled of dense growth. David drank too.

"I like this place," Jessica said.

"I'm glad."

There was movement all around them; lizards, b.u.t.terflies, scurrying bugs they couldn't see. In the trees above, they could hear the untamed chatter and nagging of birds out of their sight. Jessica saw a quick movement on the ground in front of her, and she glanced just quickly enough to see a small brown rabbit hide behind a fallen pine tree. She'd actually never seen a wild rabbit.

"There's your dinner," David whispered in her ear, and she slapped his shoulder, scolding him. Then, David kissed her lips. After he slowly pulled his mouth away, they wrapped their arms around each other tightly and pressed close, waiting for the simultaneous moment when the heat and perspiration between them would force them to let go. They waited a long time, standing in the shade of the oak, until it seemed the moment would never come.

28.

Their lovemaking steered between moments of tenderness-with David above her with such love on his face that he looked like he was in pain-and raw, hard s.e.x that made her cling to the handmade oak bed frame so David's thrusts wouldn't send her off balance, flying onto the floor as he pounded her from behind.

The sounds they made were part song, part call and response- from gasps to screams to whimpers. As their sounds mingled with the other night noises drifting through the open window, with her dripping perspiration and the damp scent diffused inside the breeze in the room, Jessica felt like one of the creatures outside, unashamed in the wildnerness, doing what G.o.d intended creatures to do.

Afterward, they were both breathing hard, their slick chests rising and falling fast, and their flesh burned so hot that they couldn't bear to touch. They fell away from each other and lay still on the blanket, smelling their heavy s.e.x scent, their lower bodies moist from each other.

The only light in the room was from the moon. David looked like a shadow beside her, as though she could reach her arm out and it would pa.s.s right through him.

"I love you so much, Jess," he said, a whine.

"Me, too," she said.

He'd caught only one ba.s.s for dinner, using bread for bait since he'd forgotten to buy worms. They cut the fish in half after he fried it up. She'd eaten fresh fish and day-old fried chicken with a slice of bread, and it had tasted like a feast. They'd sat on the cabin's steps, watching the blaze of the sunset light up their island in an orange bath while David's radio played static-filled jazz that sounded like a broadcast from a time long ago. This is a dream, her mind had told her as she witnessed the too-perfect sunset. I'm going to wake up soon.

David turned over in bed, facing her. She felt his rapid breaths against her forehead. "I have so many things I need to tell you," he whispered, "but I'm scared out of my mind."

She'd expected this. A part of her had realized from the start that the purpose of this unexpected vacation was to give David whatever he needed-whether it was distance or guts or escape-to tell her more about himself. So, even without realizing it, she'd been prepared. His words did not alarm her. She touched his damp hair with her fingertips.

"You don't have to be scared."

"There's so much you don't know," he said.

"I know that," she said. "But I need to. Right?"

A nearby owl hooted so loudly that it sounded like it was in the room with them, perched at the head of the bed. When the owl fell silent, she noticed the chaotic chirping of the crickets. Everything around them was awake, it seemed. So was she. Her eyes were wide, trying to make out David's features in the dark.

"I've tried to imagine a life without you and Kira," David said. "I can't. I hardly remember my life before you. The only future I could bear would be the three of us together. Always. But you have to know things about me first. This is going to be so hard. Nothing will ever be harder than tonight."

"Hard for you or me?" she asked, trying to make a joke, but she realized that her throat was parched nearly mute.

"Mostly for you, I think," he said.

"Maybe I'll surprise you," she said, accepting within herself that she could stand to hear about an affair with another woman- or even a man. She could, so long as it was over. If David was bis.e.xual, so be it; so long as he was honest, he didn't cheat, and they could fulfill each other's needs. She could stand to hear about a criminal record, even, which might explain his financial independence. h.e.l.l, the Kennedys had been bootleggers and n.o.body ha.s.sled them. That story about an inheritance from David's father had never rung completely true to her, or to Bea. People can change, she told herself. Jessica decided she could stand to hear any of those things because none of that would be worth losing David over. Not even close.

David took a long, labored breath. "You remember when I fell out of the tree?" he whispered. "How my bruises went away?"

The bruises. Jessica's lips parted. She realized that David was going to take her to a deeper place than she had imagined, a place she herself had buried since his fall. She felt scared.

"I remember," she said.

"Well, I saw the look on your face, the wondering. And you've probably noticed other times, too. How I don't stay scratched. You've noticed, haven't you?"

"I've noticed." Jessica became aware of how hard her nipples had grown, teased by the breeze. The back of her neck felt hot.

"There's a reason for that," David said. "I have a very unusual makeup. Not just me. There are others like me. Mahmoud is another. There's something different about our blood."

Jessica allowed his words to wash over her, and she struggled to hold her panic at bay. What could be different about his blood?

"Are you sick?" she asked.

"No," he said soothingly, brushing his palm across her collarbone. "I'm perfectly healthy. I promise you that. It only means that I heal very quickly. That I never get sick. Wounds vanish overnight. That's why I avoid doctors. I already understand my blood chemistry, and doctors would only be confused."

Unless she imagined it, Jessica was certain she could hear the thumping of David's heart near her. Yes, she could. Or was it her own? She wanted to hug him and tell him it was all right, that he didn't need to go on. But she had to know more.

"So, that's your big secret ... ?"

"Part of it," David said.

"What's the other part? I'm with you so far."

She heard him swallow hard. "What you have to understand is, I'm sharing something with you I've never shared with anyone. Not because I cherish secrecy, but because I've been instructed not to. This is all so delicate, Jessica."

"Who told you not to? Is it like a ... government thing?" The question sounded silly to her, but what else could it be?

"No," he said. "Not like that. It's hard for me to explain. In fact ... I can't really explain, not verbally. If I told you everything now, flat out, you'd think me insane. You'd have me put away. But the alternative will be very traumatic for you. And I'm sorry for that. I wish I knew of another way."

"David ..." she said. "Now, you're scaring me."

"I know," he said quietly. "I'm sorry."

For a long time, they were silent. Jessica no longer heard the generator or the flurry of nocturnal life outside. All she heard was the silence of her waiting. Their hearts danced.

"You know," he said, "this is one instance I'm glad you're a woman of faith. I really am. I'm going to ask you to believe in something tonight that your mind will tell you not to believe. But you must. I can't tell you how imperative that is. You must know that I would not lie to you, that you can have faith in my word to you. And in the morning, everything will be all right. Just like I told you when I fell from the tree. Do you remember that?"