Beside a Burning Sea (42 page)

“Yes?”

“I’m . . . afraid . . . of dying,” Ratu whispered, the mere effort of speaking making him dizzy.

Jake felt himself fading, and with all of his will, pulled himself into the present. “You . . . you ain’t alone. I’m here . . . with you.”

“You are?”

“Can’t . . . you . . . feel me?”

“I’m . . . cold. So cold.”

“Think of . . . all them fish . . . we caught,” Jake whispered, his thumb moving slowly against Ratu’s wet eyelashes.

“I’m . . . tired.”

“Me too.”

“Will . . . we . . . travel to heaven . . . together?”

“We . . . surely will,” Jake replied quietly, fighting the darkness with all his remaining strength, wanting to be with Ratu for as long as possible. “Like . . . two salamanders.”

“Will you . . . hold my hand . . . on the way?” Ratu asked, shivering.

Jake could no longer move his head, but felt tears roll down his face. “Yes,” he whispered, unable to open his eyes. “And we’ll . . . we’ll fish. And . . . and laugh.”

“Please . . . please hold my . . . hand, Big Jake. Along . . . the way.”

In the blackness that nearly consumed him, Jake managed to lower his hand from Ratu’s face. He searched for Ratu’s fingers and, finding them, squeezed them with his own. “You . . . feel that?” Jake asked, unsure if he’d said the words aloud.

“Is that . . . your hand?”

“I reckon.” Jake wanted to say more, but an enormous weariness was overcoming him, as if he hadn’t slept for years. Finally, he whispered, “I . . . love you, Ratu. You’re . . . my son. My boy.”

“I . . . I am?”

“Sure as . . . rain’s wet. Good . . . sweet rain.”

Upon hearing these words, Ratu wanted to hug Jake but was powerless to do so. “Do you . . . still have my hand?”

Jake saw his farm. The day was hot and long. Ratu was beside him. “I’ll . . . always . . . always have . . . your hand.”

“I . . . love you too,” Ratu said softly, closing his eyes.

“A . . . fine . . . son,” Jake whispered. “Such a . . . fine son.” He tried to say more, but he could no longer speak. And so he squeezed Ratu’s hand once more. And then he felt himself moving, felt the days of his youth merging with the memories of middle age. He saw knee-high corn, his mother’s face, a dirty arrowhead held by his small fingers. And then he saw Ratu. And he held Ratu’s hand and didn’t let go, even as he felt himself being carried somewhere distant, even as the colors of new worlds washed over him like waves.

DESPITE THE CLAMOR of the distant battle on the beach, the three gunshots reverberated in the jungle, causing Annie to stop and listen. Her heart thudding wildly, she hurried to her left, her wet clothes covered in mud and grime from the many falls she’d taken. Though Annie had been afraid for most of her life, she wasn’t afraid now. At least not of her own death.

And so she ran, trying not to panic at the thought of what the gunfire meant, wondering why the nearby jungle was once again silent. She prayed for Akira, Ratu, and Jake, hoping that a miracle would befall her, and that they’d all be fine. She promised God that such a miracle would prompt her to dedicate the rest of her life to a noble cause.

The first body she came across was a Japanese soldier who’d been shot in the chest. He hadn’t died instantly, and thinking of Akira, she started to weep when she saw the agonized look on the man’s face. Twenty more paces brought her to two more dead soldiers. She spun around, peering through the foliage. “Akira!” she yelled, no longer caring if anyone else heard her. “Akira! Where are you? Jake! Ratu!”

No answer emerged from the jungle. The silence terrified her, for it meant that they might all be dead. Running forward, she tripped over another body. “Akira!” she shouted. “Tell me where you are! Please!”

Annie came to the crest of a small hill and saw Ratu and Jake, saw how they were holding each other. “No!” she shrieked, running forward, sliding to her knees as she neared them. She frantically felt for Ratu’s pulse. Finding it, she searched for wounds. He had a nasty cut on his forehead, and, screaming with effort, she ripped part of his shirt off and wrapped it around his head, binding the wound as tightly as possible. Her hands then searched the rest of him. His left arm was broken, but she couldn’t locate any other significant wounds. Carefully, she laid him down and propped his head up.

To her dismay, Annie couldn’t find Jake’s pulse. His flesh was still, and his legs were bloody and ruined. Trying and failing to hold back her sobs, she leaned down, pressed her mouth against his, and desperately sought to bring him back to life. “Don’t go, Jake,” she whispered, pushing rhythmically on his chest. “Please . . . please don’t leave us.”

She tried to awaken his heart until her shoulders ached. She looked once more for a sign of life. Seeing none, she leaned down, kissed his brow, longingly touched his face, and said good-bye. Then she rose and stumbled through the nearby foliage, shouting Akira’s name.

She found him tangled with Roger and a small Japanese soldier. Weeping, she searched for his pulse and cried out when she felt its beat. Though a plane suddenly crashed into the jungle not far from her, and antiaircraft guns continued to boom, she barely heard the explosions. Her years of training and service took over, and she inspected Akira with trembling hands. She moaned at the sight of his two missing fingers. Ripping a strip from his shirt, she bandaged his wound as best as possible. She then focused on his neck, which bore the rut of a passing bullet. Her tears dropped like rain upon him as she worked.

Suddenly realizing that Ratu was unattended, Annie groaned in frustration. About to leave Akira in order to help Ratu, she heard her sister calling for her. “Izzy!” she screamed, disbelieving her ears. “Izzy, where are you?”

The bushes near her parted and Isabelle, Joshua, and Nathan rushed forth. The two men held rifles, and Isabelle carried the medical kit. Isabelle dropped to her knees beside Akira. Quickly Annie removed bandages and other supplies from the kit. “Ratu,” Annie said, pointing toward a tree. “Go to him, Izzy!”

Isabelle and Joshua ran into the bushes while Nathan remained. “What can I do?” he asked, setting his rifle aside.

Annie looked at Akira’s wounds, which she’d almost finished dressing. “Can you carry him?” she asked, her voice cracking.

Nathan nodded. “I’m sorry, Annie. I’m so sorry.”

Having finished with Akira’s wounds, Annie brought his uninjured hand to her lips, kissing it. Shuddering, she then hurried toward Ratu. “How’s he doing?” she asked Isabelle, pulling anxiously at her own hair with bloody fingers.

“He’ll be fine,” Isabelle answered, glancing sadly at Jake.

“It’s going to be hard . . . oh, Jake’s death is going to be so hard on him.”

“I know,” Isabelle replied as she fashioned a sling for Ratu’s broken arm.

Louder explosions suddenly thundered on the other side of the island. “It’s the ships,” Joshua said, helping Isabelle with the sling. “They’re engaging.”

“Should we stay or go?” Isabelle asked, trying to deny the weariness that threatened to overcome her.

Joshua put his arms beneath Ratu. “It’s time to go.”

“We can’t leave Jake,” Annie said. “I’ll carry Ratu. Josh, can you get Jake?”

“Let’s . . . let’s take him home.”

Annie picked up Ratu as carefully as she could, holding him like a baby in her arms. Stepping unsteadily, she headed back to Akira. Annie saw her lover’s bloodied hand and neck, and her tears began anew. But she also began to walk toward the shore, and she didn’t stop until her feet touched the sand.

SIX HOURS LATER, after the giant guns of the ships had gone silent, after dusk had swelled and then darkened the sky, Joshua finally stopped rowing. He carefully eased the oars into the boat with bleeding hands that were closed tight by the memory of the wood. Sitting on the bench before him, sheltered within Isabelle’s arms, was Ratu. He stared blankly into the distance—his mind dulled by morphine. Fresh stitches dominated his forehead, and his arm was in a sling. He’d said almost nothing since he awoke.

At the front of the lifeboat, Nathan peered into the binoculars, seeking to make sense of the darkness. On the bench nearest to Nathan’s perch, Akira and Annie also sat quietly. She’d stitched up the wounds on his hand and neck. The hole that had once held his two fingers had been extremely difficult to close in the rocking boat, but she’d finally finished. When Akira had opened his eyes, she gave him a dose of morphine and leaned his head against her shoulder.

At the bottom of the boat, Jake lay in a fetal position. He looked to be sleeping. Joshua had thought about burying him on the beach, but realizing that Ratu would want to say good-bye, Joshua had gently placed Jake in the boat and then collected a few fist-sized rocks, setting them next to him. Now, as Joshua sat beneath the shimmering sky, he thought about the heat of the coming day, and how Jake would have to be buried at sea. He also pondered how he should mention such a burial to Ratu.

Finally reaching a decision, Joshua carefully stepped over Jake and sat next to Ratu, patting his shoulder, noting how his eyes were fixed on the endless waves. “May I tell you a story?” Joshua asked quietly.

Ratu turned to him as if waking from a dream. “What?” he whispered.

“A story. I’d like to tell you one.”

“Tell . . . tell Big Jake too.”

Joshua sighed, cradling Ratu’s hand within his own, already missing the twang and joy of Jake’s voice. “Ever since people sailed the seas,” he said, “it’s been considered a great . . . the highest honor to . . . to be buried at sea.” Joshua spoke slowly, giving Ratu time to comprehend his words. “There’s . . . there’s a sense of peace found at sea. And unlike a grave on land, which can only be visited in one spot, a grave at sea . . . well, the entire ocean becomes the grave. So the deceased . . . so Jake could be visited from almost anywhere.”

A tear rolled down Ratu’s face and dropped to Isabelle’s wrist. He nodded but said nothing.

“Is this . . . what you want, Ratu?” Isabelle asked, stroking his cheek.

Ratu nodded again. Annie rose to kiss him on the top of the head. Nathan gently squeezed his shoulder. Akira bowed deeply to him, almost passing out in the process. Quietly and carefully, Joshua put the rocks he’d found into Jake’s pockets. “Would you like me to say a prayer?” he asked Ratu.

Instead of answering, Ratu awkwardly removed his necklace with his uninjured arm and, with Isabelle’s help, placed it around Jake’s head, and then leaned down and held Jake tight. While Ratu cried and shuddered, everyone else comforted him with their touch and words. Meanwhile, the sea rocked the lifeboat as if it were a cradle.

When Ratu clearly began to weaken, Annie and Isabelle helped him back to the bench. They tenderly held him as Joshua began to pray. “The Lord is my shepherd,” he said softly. “I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures. He leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul.”

Joshua continued the prayer until its conclusion. Silence descended swiftly, only the sounds of Ratu’s quiet moans and the restless waves reaching their ears. Joshua nodded to Nathan, and the two men lifted Jake. They then eased him into the water. As he started to sink, Ratu moved to the side of the boat, his fingers darting into the water to grasp Jake’s hand. “I love you . . . Big Jake,” he whispered, his tears dropping to the sea. “I love you so bloody much.”

Ratu held Jake’s hand for so long that it seemed he was unwilling or unable to let go. The lifeboat swayed. The stars slowly moved as the earth twisted. And only when Ratu slipped into unconsciousness did his grip finally loosen.

DAY EIGHTEEN

They say all things end,
But I say all things begin.
Warm winds carry seeds.

Rebirth

Several hours after dawn, the remaining six survivors from
Be-nevolence
were plucked from the sea by eager sailors aboard a heavy cruiser of the U.S. Navy. The survivors were given fresh clothes, additional medical care, and hot food. Joshua provided the executive officers with an account of the past weeks, starting with the attack on his ship. Though normally a detailed man, he rushed through his story so that he could return to Isabelle and Ratu. Still, the questions posed to him were many—questions of Roger and Akira, of the Japanese battle group, of
Benevolence
. And though Joshua started to dread the endless inquires, a series of unlikely comments and musings suddenly caused his heart to pound.

As soon as protocol allowed, Joshua rose from the long table, saluting the officers about him. He then hurried through the innards of the ship, running when empty spaces confronted him. He found Isabelle and Ratu exactly where he’d left them—in a small, cramped room containing a cot and a desk. Isabelle sat on the cot, cradling Ratu’s head, which now bore a proper bandage. Joshua moved beside her. “I’ve got wonderful news,” he said, so excited that his voice trembled.

“What news?” Isabelle asked, as she gently cleaned Ratu’s face with a warm rag.

“Ratu’s going home.”

“Home?” Ratu asked, his bloodshot eyes widening and filling with tears.

“It’s all being arranged,” Joshua replied. “I told the captain that my first lieutenant was due some shore leave. And he agreed.”

Ratu rose from Isabelle’s lap. “When, Captain? Soon?”

“Well, we have to sail here and there, and then catch a plane. But we’ll get you home.”

“You’ll . . . get me?”

“Yes.”

“You’re going with me?” Ratu asked, not believing what he’d heard. “You’re going to take me to my family?”

Joshua nodded, glancing at Isabelle. “I promised my wife two weeks on a beach, Ratu. I told her that I’d teach her to sail. You’ve got sailboats in Fiji, right? Sailboats and beaches?”

“Oh, of course, Captain,” Ratu replied, his voice regaining a bit of its old speed. “I tell you, we have very beautiful beaches and very fast sailboats.”

Isabelle kissed the top of Ratu’s head. “Maybe you could join us for an afternoon on the water.”

“Could my sisters come? All five of them?”

“The more the merrier,” Joshua said.

Ratu smiled for the first time in what seemed an eternity. “Can we leave now? Today?”

Joshua patted Ratu’s knee. “We’ll leave soon, I promise.”

“Soon?”

“And . . . and that’s not all, Ratu,” Joshua said, his eyes glistening. “Not by a long shot. The best is yet to come.”

“The best? What do you mean, Captain? Tell me.”

“There’s a story . . . a wonderful story being told. I just heard it.”

“What story?”

Joshua smiled, and to Isabelle his face suddenly looked a decade younger. “I was told of a Fijian man looking for his son,” he said. “This man serves with Americans and for weeks has been visiting about every ship and port and base in the South Pacific. He’s even asked about
Benevolence
. They say that he won’t rest, that he’s done so well in the field that the brass support his search. He’s seen every captain from here to—”

“My father?” Ratu asked, suddenly weeping with joy.

“I think so. I don’t know who else it could be.”

“Oh, Captain!” Ratu replied, wrapping his arms around Joshua, squeezing him as tightly as possible. “Thank you! Oh, thank you so bloody much! I know it’s him! I tell you, it sounds just like him. It just has to be him!”

“You’re going to be with him soon, Ratu,” Isabelle said, rubbing the back of his head, her tears almost as numerous as his. “Imagine how happy he’ll be to see you.”

At her words, Ratu’s euphoria seemed to overwhelm him, and for once he was speechless. His lips trembled. His damp eyelids pressed tightly together, sending tears tumbling. He clung to Isabelle and Joshua and continued to hug them. And as the ship gently swayed, the three companions leaned against each other, holding each other. They cried and smiled and even laughed. Finally, when Isabelle said that it was time for Ratu to rest, they laid him gently upon the cot. “Now, may I borrow my lovely wife for a moment?” Joshua asked.

“Just one, Captain,” Ratu replied. “Please just one.”

Joshua took Isabelle’s hand and stepped out of the room. The narrow passageway was empty, and he drew her toward him. “Can you believe it?” he asked. “Apparently, his father is a bit of a legend by now. They say he doesn’t sleep. He’s got half the Pacific fleet looking for his boy. Looking for . . . for Ratu.”

“What a miracle, Josh. What a . . . marvelous miracle. Are you sure? It’s almost too good to be true.”

“I’m sure.”

Isabelle wiped her eyes, so relieved for Ratu that her legs suddenly felt weak. She leaned unsteadily against a nearby bulkhead.

Joshua worriedly moved closer and held her shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Nothing whatsoever.”

“Are you sure? You look pale.”

“Everything’s fine, Joshua. You were there. You heard what the ship’s doctor said.”

“And the cramps?”

“Nothing to worry about. I just need to rest.”

“You, resting?”

“I’m going to try,” she said. “You know, I can learn new things.”

His bandaged hand slid to her belly. He kissed her briefly. “Do you know what?”

“What?”

“I’m a lucky man, Izzy. Lucky to have you. And I’m sorry if I didn’t always realize that, but I realize it now. And I’m not going to forget it again.”

“And?” she asked, smiling faintly.

“And . . . and when this war . . . when this world stops fighting with itself, I’m going to come home. Come home for good. And I probably won’t give you everything you want, but I’ll try to give you plenty.”

Isabelle leaned forward, kissing him, pulling him against her. “I just want you, Josh. That’s all I want. That’s all I need. Just you and the baby and a run-down house that we can fix up and call home. Nothing else much matters.”

He kissed her again. “We’d better get back to Ratu. I’d like the two of you to rest. Lay beside him and go to sleep.”

“Will you find me tonight?”

“I’m always going to find you, Izzy,” he replied, stroking her brow. “Us old sea captains, we know where to look for the best waters.”

THE HEAVY CRUISER, having survived the battle almost unscathed, escorted a pair of damaged destroyers toward safer seas. The smaller ships trailed oil and smoke but were taking on no more water than their pumps could clear. Aboard the cruiser, sailors welded torn steel, watched the sky for Zeros, and caught up on some much-needed rest. At the bow, Akira and Annie stood close enough that the rise and fall of the ship often brought their shoulders together. Below, several dolphins leapt in front of the froth and spray created by the bow slicing through the water. The dolphins seemed to delight in the thrust of the iron beast behind them, catapulting themselves high into the air.

“The morphine is leaving me,” Akira said, grasping the rail before him with his good hand.

“I should give you something else for the pain,” Annie replied. “Let’s go belowdecks. You shouldn’t be up here anyway. And I want to see how everyone is doing.”

“It can wait a moment, yes?” he asked, studying her face, not used to seeing her in unspoiled clothes.

“It can.”

Akira watched the dolphins, remembering how he’d encouraged Annie to swim in their company. The creatures below were sleek and smart and beautiful. He felt oddly linked to them, as if he were in their debt for helping him place a bridge between himself and the woman he’d grown to love. “Such freedom,” he said, nodding toward the dolphins.

“I’ll never forget my swim with them.”

The dolphins continued to leap. Akira edged even closer to her side, pleased that her face bore a faint smile. “My hand hurts,” he said. “And Jake, a good and noble man, is gone. And I have seen too much death. But still . . . no words, no music, no sight or poem, can describe how I feel now.”

“Can you try?”

“It would be easier to swim like those dolphins,” he said, looking below. “How do you describe . . . a combination of hope and peace and love? Is there such a word? Such a feeling?”

Though Annie ached because of the loss of Jake, she understood what Akira meant. She knew that life was long, and she felt that for Isabelle, and for Ratu and Joshua and Nathan and Akira and herself, the best years lay ahead. “Just try,” she finally replied. “You can try to describe it, can’t you?”

Akira felt the sun on his back, smelled the fragrance of the sea. “Once,” he said reflectively, “when I was a boy, I rode my bicycle to the top of a mountain range near my home. It took me almost all day to reach the top. The leaves of the maple trees were turning to gold, to scarlet, to orange. And so the mountains looked . . . they looked as if they had been painted below the blue sky. And a wind blew, and when I rolled down the mountains, the leaves fell on me, fell like little orange blankets. I seemed to descend forever, as if I were a river twisting down that mountain. And I felt such joy and freedom and hope. And I have always thought that was the one pure and perfect moment of my life, a moment that showed me how the suffering and sorrow of life could be eclipsed.” Akira looked to the dolphins, and then again to Annie’s face. “I now have two such moments. Because I feel this same joy and hope right now.”

She placed her arm around his back, drawing him closer, suddenly indifferent to the stares of distant sailors. “For me,” she said, “that moment was the night you first made love to me. I knew then that my search was finally over.”

“Your search ended then? Not before? Not on the beach?”

“No, not like that. That night changed me forever.”

“How?”

“It showed me what was possible. And I’d never seen that before. Never known . . . that . . . that there weren’t limits to how I could feel.”

Akira looked at her face, loving each precious part as much as the whole. “I feel as if I am once again riding down those mountains. In those leaves. But it is even better now, for I have you beside me, and the ride does not end when I reach the bottom, but continues. And I know that it will go on and on and on. And though it may rain, it may get cold, I may puncture a tire, such things will . . . they will ultimately make our journey better. And when the twilight of that ride is finally upon us, we will look at the trail we have taken and at the signs of our passage. And though our tears will be many, we will know that great lives have been lived, and that our memories will forever bind us together.”