Beside a Burning Sea (16 page)

Annie spotted a strand of seaweed in her sister’s hair and leaned forward to remove it. The strand was tangled in Isabelle’s locks, and as Annie pulled it out, she was reminded of untying her sister’s braids in the bath. “I don’t know . . . I don’t know why I’m so protective of Akira,” she said softly.

“You’re a nurse, Annie. He’s your patient. And he did save you.”

“I know. But . . . he’s more than a patient to me.”

“What exactly is he?”

“I don’t know exactly. But he’s teaching me about poetry, and I . . . and I like spending time with him.”

Isabelle flinched as a fish bumped into her calf. “Why?”

“Because he doesn’t judge me. And I . . . seem to please him.”

“And he pleases you?”

“He does.”

“And you don’t feel guilty about Ted?”

“Why would I? I haven’t done anything wrong. Can’t I be friends with my patient?”

Isabelle shrugged. Though she didn’t agree, she wasn’t interested in further debating the point. “Well, I’m happy that he’s put a smile on your face, that he’s teaching you poetry. I’m sure it helps to pass the time.”

“It’s wonderful. It’s . . . taught me to think in different ways. Kind of like painting did.”

“He certainly seems to enjoy teaching you.”

Annie plucked the last of the seaweed from Isabelle’s hair. “As you know better than anyone, I’m unsure of almost everything. But his presence . . . it makes me less unsure.”

“How?”

“Is that how you feel with Joshua? More sure of yourself? Of course, I know that’s never been one of your bigger problems.”

Isabelle swished seawater through her teeth. “You’re right. I’ve always been confident. At least, ever since you got sick. So that’s not why I’m with Josh. I don’t need his . . . validation. But still, his company makes me happy. Sometimes I stop worrying about all that I have to do and instead, believe it or not, simply enjoy the moment. That’s why I’m with him, I think. Because it’s possible for me to relax in his presence. Because he lets me know that I’m not alone.”

“But you’ve never been alone.”

“Never? No, that’s not true. There are degrees to everything.”

“What do you mean?”

Isabelle smiled faintly, accustomed to Annie’s questions, which at times seemed endless. “The love of a good man makes you feel less alone, Annie. Ted doesn’t . . . he doesn’t make you feel that way?”

Annie picked up a shell, bringing it into a light it had never seen. “He has a good heart. He makes me laugh. But at the end of the day, Ted is mostly concerned about Ted. And he has little faith in me.”

Isabelle nodded, knowing that one of the reasons Annie became a nurse was to prove her fiancé wrong. “No one else sees that in him.”

“I know. To everyone else, he’s the sports hero, the homecoming king, the future governor. And I’m just the lucky girl who will someday bear his children.”

“Maybe the war will change him for the better. Maybe he’ll see things differently.”

“I’d like that, Izzy. I really would. But I think . . . I think people are less capable of change than we want to believe.”

Isabelle sighed, taking Annie’s hand. “We should go. We’ve been gone too long as it is.”

Annie followed Isabelle out of the water, glad that their argument was over. She hadn’t gone far when she wondered why her sister’s footsteps were so easy to follow and her fiancé’s sometimes so difficult. Where did Isabelle lead her that Ted didn’t?

DEEP WITHIN THE JUNGLE, Roger seethed. To release his fury, he threw rocks at geckos on a tree branch until he struck one and it fell to the ground. Grabbing the stunned creature, he crunched its skull between his thumbs and then leaned back against a boulder. Furious that he’d tightened his grip on the spear when the prisoner had spoken of attacking, and that he’d so completely lost his temper during the ensuing confrontation, he pressed his sweaty palms against his eyes, craving a cigarette. “Goddamn Japs,” he muttered, picking up the gecko’s body and hurling it into the jungle.

Roger had long known that his temper could undermine his missions, and yet until landing on the island, his rage had never created problems. But here, with the relentless headaches and heat, his rage had become almost unmanageable. His hate of the other survivors further fueled his fury, and sometimes it took all his mental fortitude to not lash out at everyone around him. To not punish those who offended him was entirely contrary to his convictions. He felt helpless, painfully aware that his strength had somehow been stolen, that circumstances had reduced him once again to the young boy who was unable to silence his tormentors.

As if he didn’t have enough pressure on him, Roger now had to worry about whether Akira had seen him tighten his grip on the spear. “Did the monkey notice?” he asked himself, slapping at a mosquito, his voice raw with fury. Roger didn’t think that Annie’s patient had seen him prepare to be attacked. But still, giving any hint whatsoever that he understood Japanese had been a colossal mistake—a mistake almost bound to be repeated, as with the two prisoners together, he’d be forced to endure more such conversations.

Roger debated the merits of killing either or both men. Even though he reviled Akira, he hesitated dispatching him immediately because the others would know that he’d done so. No, it would be better to kill him later, during or after the Japanese landing. He could then kill him in his own way—taking his time and savoring the moment. He could bury him neck deep in the sand and watch the tide rise over his pleading face.

Killing the airman first made more sense. The man was bound and already injured, after all. How hard would it be to suffocate him in the dead of night? And how could anyone suspect treachery when the Jap already had a head wound and could easily have died naturally?

His pulse quickening, Roger continued to plot. He could wait to kill the airman until the moon was hidden by clouds and the wind masked his sounds. Fortunately, the wind was often loud at night, flapping the giant leaves about them.

Or he could do the opposite. He could whisper to the airman of who he was. He could somehow set him free and rendezvous with him later. An ally could certainly be useful in the days ahead. With such an ally, he could easily kill all of
Benevolence
’s survivors.

Though intrigued by the possibilities of letting the airman go, the four scratches on Roger’s face still burned, and because of those scratches, he decided that the prisoner would perish.

The Nip will die tonight, he promised himself. And though he’ll die without a sound, he’ll see me, and I’ll make it hurt like hellfire, and he’ll know of my revenge. That goddamn monkey will know I won.

DAY SEVEN

As Plato once said,
Just the dead will see war’s end.
Young flowers fear frost.

False Dawn

Beyond the harbor, beneath the swells to the west of the island,
Benevolence
rested. After sinking, the ship had broken in two and each part had settled upon a virgin reef. For three days, oil had leaked from
Benevolence
’s torn stern, fouling the pristine waters. The oil had kept sea life away, but once the water cleared, turtles and sharks and dozens of varieties of fish ventured into the ruined infrastructure of the ship. Some of the turtles became trapped within
Benevolence
, and soon their bodies mingled with hundreds of human corpses.

Scavengers now explored the lifeless ship, cleaning it of the dead. Already miniature barnacles had affixed themselves to massive iron walls. And lobsters and moray eels had made homes within man-made caves. The bridge of
Benevolence
was still intact, and a leopard shark had taken up residence beneath the table where Joshua once studied maps.

Not far from
Benevolence
, scores of planes and smaller boats also littered the seafloor. These were burial grounds for men and homes to all forms of sea life. Soon other objects would sink from the world above—tanks, rifles, bombs, and ships that dwarfed
Benevolence
. Thousands of soldiers would also fall beneath the surface—their bodies and memories forever lost at sea.

Staring out over the waves, Joshua was aware only of his ship. As he kneeled on the beach in the early morning light, he prayed for the dead. He offered such prayers every morning, praying that the dead were in heaven and that their families would someday again know peace. Though he believed strongly in God, his belief was not unshakable, and he often looked skyward as if seeking a reminder of a higher power.

After praying for the safety of his family and making a sign of the cross, Joshua returned to camp. Everyone was still asleep, or at least content to have their eyes closed—perhaps enjoying the coolness of the morning. Over the past few days, people had started to sleep farther from the banyan tree. Thus palm fronds, banana peels, and coconut husks were scattered about. Joshua began to collect such items and quietly place them into the fire. When he neared Isabelle, he paused, watching her sleep. Though her skin was speckled with sand and lined with grime, the sight of her sleeping was a beautiful thing, and he beheld her face as the sun climbed higher. He thought about the child she carried, and he marveled that a new life grew within her. Though he wasn’t prone to such thoughts, Joshua wondered what it would be like to have life develop within him. Would men be so quick to kill each other if they experienced such creation?

Joshua licked his swollen lip and continued to tidy the camp. He would have never let
Benevolence
fall into such disarray, but here he didn’t want to order people around unnecessarily. After all, everyone was tired and hot and covered in bug bites, and yesterday’s events proved that people were also on edge. Morale needed to be raised, he realized, though he was uncertain what to do to lift their spirits. Of course, Roger would be sent away, he knew that much. And without Roger sulking about, the mood around camp should improve.

Nearing the airman, Joshua was surprised to see that he hadn’t changed positions all morning. The prisoner’s hands and feet were bound and a rope connected him to the banyan tree. He still lay on his side and rested his hands beside his belly. A cup of water and some nearby bananas were untouched. A fly landed on the man’s face, and instinctively Joshua leaned down to chase it away. Only then did he realize that the airman’s chest wasn’t moving.

Joshua dropped to his knees and felt for a pulse. The man’s flesh was cool and unmoving against him. “Oh, no,” he whispered, placing the back of his hand before the airman’s mouth. No breath came forward. Muttering to himself, Joshua ran his hands through his hair. He rose, moving quietly toward where Scarlet lay some two dozen paces away. She rested on her back and her eyes were open.

“I need you,” he whispered. Wordlessly, she followed him to the airman. Joshua knelt and said, “I think . . . I think he’s dead. I don’t understand it, but I think he’s dead.”

Scarlet moved forward, checking the man’s vitals. She turned to Joshua. “He’s been dead for some time,” she said quietly. “By the look of him, probably for hours.”

“For hours? How?” he asked, untying the man so that she could more easily examine him.

She sighed and carefully moved his head. Blood trickled from his ears and his nose. The skin around his wound was bruised and swollen. “He must . . . he hemorrhaged in the night.”

“Hemorrhaged? I didn’t think his wound was life threatening. I thought—”

“Head wounds are always dangerous,” she interrupted. “He must have been bleeding internally and we never realized it.”

“Didn’t you look for that?”

“Of course we did. And if we’d been aboard
Benevolence
, with proper equipment, I’m sure that he’d still be alive. But we’re not. We’re on a beach and we’ve no doctors and there’s no bringing him back.”

He rubbed his temples, as if his head suddenly ached. He was responsible for this man’s safety, and had utterly failed him. “I’m going . . . I need to bury him,” he whispered, glancing skyward. “When the others wake up, can you please tell them what’s happened?”

“I’ll tell them.”

Joshua lifted the airman, putting him over his shoulder. He took a few paces toward the jungle and then noticed Akira asleep. Impulsively, Joshua strode to Annie’s patient. Grunting with effort, he leaned down and tapped him on the shoulder. Akira’s eyes opened, but he didn’t move. “Can you come with me?” Joshua whispered.

Gazing at the lifeless body, Akira nodded. The two men stepped into the jungle, which in the half-light of the morning seemed to consume them as if it were a vast mouth swallowing a pair of ants. “How did he die?” Akira asked quietly, walking before Joshua to clear a path.

“I didn’t want this to happen. I wanted to treat him fairly.”

“What did happen?”

“His head wound. His brain bled during the night and he died in his sleep. Scarlet checked on him several times, but . . . but a few hours ago he died.” Joshua sidestepped a fallen log, the weight of the dead man pressing him down upon the earth. “I’m sorry.”

“Why am I with you now?”

“Because I want . . . because he needs a proper burial. And I know nothing of your religions. I’m hoping that you can help me.”

Akira stopped. He turned around to study the dead man. “Most Japanese,” he said softly, “believe in Buddhism or Shinto. Both groups . . . cremate their dead.”

“Then I’d like . . . then we need to do that.”

“Please find an open space and gather wood. I will soon return.” Akira disappeared into the jungle.

Joshua moved forward. Vines obscured his path, and with his one free arm he pushed them aside. Though he longed to rest, to put the body down beside him, he continued on. His mind was overburdened with conflicting emotions about what had befallen his prisoner. The airman had been without question a dangerous addition to their group, a fanatic who’d have either escaped or died trying. And from that perspective, Joshua didn’t mind the man’s death. His death, after all, meant one fewer threat that could endanger Isabelle or anyone else. On the other hand, Joshua had been responsible for the airman’s well-being, and letting any man, even a man bent on destruction, die while tied to a tree was unforgivable.

A clearing revealed itself, and Joshua moved forward, gently setting the airman down among a group of knee-high ferns. Nearby, a dead and emaciated tree leaned against a sapling that struggled to reach the light above. He pulled the dead tree from its resting place and began breaking it into smaller pieces. Bugs attacked him as he worked, and he often slapped at his back and legs in an effort to keep them at bay.

Soon Joshua had a cot-sized bundle of wood piled in the center of the clearing. He lifted the airman, carefully placed him in the middle of the pile, and crossed the man’s arms over his chest. He straightened the flier’s clothing. He then closed his eyes, made the sign of the cross, and prayed.

After a few minutes passed, Akira arrived with a burning branch. Seeing the funeral pyre, he nodded in appreciation, then eyed the jungle that rose above and about them. “A good place, yes, to continue a journey?”

Joshua glanced around, noting the trees and birds and a pair of giant butterflies that fluttered about a violet orchid. “I think it’s a fine place. As fine as any.”

Akira set the burning branch beneath the pile of timber. At first only smoke rose, which was white and slender and altogether unlike the smoke that had billowed up from
Benevolence
. But the fire quickly spread, consuming the dry wood and the man atop it. Soon unable to watch, Joshua sat among the ferns, closed his eyes, and silently confessed his sins.

Akira continued to stand. When the fire finally wavered, he added more wood. Then he sat next to Joshua and listened carefully to the sound of rebirth.

AFTER SCARLET FINISHED telling everyone of the airman’s death, people went in opposite directions. Before Roger vanished into the jungle, he let Annie know that he was glad one fewer Jap existed in the world, and she replied by turning her back to him. Nathan—who hoped to redeem himself for his failures of the previous day—also ventured inland, seeking the cave that Joshua so desperately wanted. Each of the three nurses felt guilty for not paying more attention to the airman’s head wound, and each reflected on his passing.

Ratu, who’d been relegated to the periphery of the group by the violent events, slowly built a new fire pit. The airman’s demise had shaken Ratu. He hadn’t expected to find death on the island, and he obsessed about his father being captured by the Japanese and dying in such a manner. Ratu had always believed his father to be invincible. But now, as he dug in the sand, he remembered the numerous times that his father had been injured during their adventures, and how his legs and hands bore as many scars as an old turtle’s shell. Also, his father’s eyes weren’t as sharp as they once were, and he worried about him walking into an ambush.

Thinking of himself on the island, so far from his family, Ratu began to panic. What would happen to his mother and sisters if his father died? Who’d feed them? Who’d tell his sisters that their dreams were only dreams and that they had nothing to fear from the night?

Breaking out in a sweat, Ratu hurried from the fire pit, anxiously following Jake’s deep footprints down the beach. He needed to talk to his friend, and with each passing step he felt this urgency increase. By the time he reached Jake, Ratu’s face was streaked with tears.

“Big Jake!” he sobbed, running into the engineer’s arms.

Jake dropped his spear and the three fish he’d caught. “What? What ain’t right?”

Ratu clung to Jake as if only he could pull him from a swirling sea, could stop him from drowning. “I’m scared . . . so bloody scared for my father,” Ratu stammered. “I want to see him. What if he’s tied to a tree with no one to protect him? What . . . what if he’s hurt?”

Stroking Ratu’s cheek, Jake held him tight. Ratu shuddered against him. For not the first time, Jake realized how slender and small and young Ratu was. “How many sharks has your daddy killed?” Jake asked, his cigarlike fingers still moving against Ratu’s tear-stained face.

“I don’t . . . I don’t know. Why?”

“How about a guess?”

“Fifteen or . . . maybe twenty.”

“Twenty sharks,” Jake replied, shaking his head as if in wonder. “You reckon a man who’s killed twenty sharks is gonna go and get himself captured? Get himself captured when he’s got such a fine boy to go home to? No, sir. I don’t expect that such a shark killer has much to worry about. You’d sooner see a fish drown.”

“But his eyes aren’t good and . . . and he’s not as strong as I told you. He couldn’t really throw his spear across the harbor. He couldn’t—”

“Shhh,” Jake said, trying to calm Ratu. “It’ll rattle right. You’ll see. No shark killer is gonna get himself captured or shot.”

“But what . . . what if he doesn’t come home? What will happen to my mother? My little sisters?” Before Jake could answer, Ratu continued miserably, “They’re not strong, I tell you. They get scared at night. I should never have left them. Oh, why . . . why did I ever leave them?”

“You’ll be with them real soon.”

Ratu shook his head, a trail of mucus stretching from his nose to Jake’s shoulder. “You can’t . . . you can’t promise that, Big Jake.”

Jake wiped the tears from Ratu’s face. “Well, I can promise you that we’ve both got bones in our backs and we’ll escape this darn island. You’ll be home before the crickets cry.”

“And my father?”

“Why, the war’s almost over.”

“It is?”

“Well, them Japs ain’t gonna quit. And they’ll ride their horse until they get knocked off. But they’ll eat dirt soon enough. Their horse is plumb dead already. They just don’t know it.”

Ratu nodded, leaning into his friend. “I’m just so bloody afraid. I don’t want anyone else to die.”

Jake continued to stroke Ratu’s face. He’d never held a child in such a manner, and found that he’d be happy to embrace Ratu for as long as he needed him. “You should fetch each one of them sisters something,” Jake finally said. “Something from your adventure.”

“Like what?”

“What do they like? What makes them smile?”

Sniffing, Ratu thought about his siblings. “Sometimes . . . sometimes I bring them seashells.”

“Then let’s gather up some seashells. The prettiest seashells on the island.”

“And I collect . . . I’ve found fourteen heart-shaped stones for my mother.”

“Then let’s get her a fifteenth.”

Ratu nodded. “And my father? I could bring him a shark’s tooth. That would be wonderful, Big Jake. Oh, Big Jake, would you help me get a shark’s tooth?”

“Just tell me how to do it. I’m a farmer, remember?”