Under Vanishing Skies (11 page)

When I reached my hut, I found William sitting on the white plastic recliner outside the front door. I could tell by the expression on his face and the way his fingers flew across his data mat that he was playing a video game. I also could tell that he knew I was there, but he didn’t look up.

“
Morning, William.”

“
Uh huh,” he said.

“
What are you playing?”

“
A game.”

“
Yeah, I kind of figured. Which game? I don’t recognize the tune.”

“
I call it Pirate Hunt.”

“
Pirate Hunt, huh?” I set my bag on the ground next to the door and leaned over for a closer look. “Where’d you get it? Trade it with someone from another island?”

“
Nope. Made it.”

I looked at him, but he was focused like a laser on the data mat. “You made it? Let me see.” I reached for it, but he swung his arm up and knocked my hand out of the way.

“
Wait!” he yelled. “I’m just about to sink the mother ship.” His fingers flew across the screen, tapping icons along the side and then touching what looked like a large, old-fashioned pirate ship. Orange and red flashes erupted on the deck of the ship. Within a few seconds, it exploded and sank. Without looking up, he said, “Here.” He handed me the data mat.

The graphics were good, really good. And the user interface was pretty damned sophisticated. “So how do you play?”

Now more interested in a mosquito bite on his leg than the game, he said, “You start off with fifty people and two boats. The pirates attack the boats and raid the islands. That’s it.”

“
Uh huh. And what’s the objective?”

“
Are you serious?” He looked up at me, and then talked slowly like I was an idiot. “You kill the pirates. If you sink the mother ship, you win.”

I ignored the attitude and said, “When did you get to be such a good coder? Hell, I remember that tic-tac-toe game that you and your dad had developed and—” He got up and snatched the data mat out of my hands.

“
I’m sorry, William. I didn’t mean to...well, I’m sorry.”

He shoved the data mat in his back pocket and started to walk off.

 “
How’s your mom doing?” I asked.

He paused and without turning around said, “She wants to see you.” Before I could ask why, he ran off.

“
Shit.” Why did I have to ask? I knew how she was doing. Helen had sent me a message. She was getting worse.

I picked up my bag, went inside, and unpacked. Stalling for time, I took my dirty clothes to the laundry hut and threw them in the washer. When the wash finished, I folded my clothes and tried not to think about what I’d find when I got to Sarah’s hut.

There were a lot of reasons why I chose to study computer science instead of medicine. One reason was that I didn’t mind being around dying computers. Dying people, on the other hand, were a different story. I didn’t like being in the same room with them. I mean, what do you say to someone who’s dying? Bon voyage? It was nice knowing you?

As I entered Sarah’s hut, I suddenly wished that I had studied medicine. Maybe they taught doctors what to say. Right now, my mind was a blank.

Sarah was in bed covered with a single, dingy white sheet. The open window next to the bed let a soft breeze into the room. Helen sat in a chair next to her, trying to get Sarah to eat something.

“
Come on, dear. Just eat one more spoonful for me, okay?” She held the spoon out in front of Sarah’s face, but Sarah just looked at me and smiled.

After a few seconds, she said, “I’ll eat more later, Helen. I promise.”

I could tell that Helen didn’t believe her, but she set the spoon in the bowl, got up, and wiped her hands on her ever-present apron.

“
Okay, dear. I’ll leave you alone so you can visit with Aron.” 

As she walked past me on her way out the door, she whispered, “Mohammad will be here in another hour to give her another treatment, so don’t stay too long.”

The word treatment was a stretch. Maybe Mohammad’s potions and yoga therapies were better than nothing. Who knows? But as I looked at her withered body, I found myself wishing that they would leave her alone and let her die with some dignity.

“
Come here.” She patted the edge of her bed. “Sit next to me.”

I passed Helen on her way out of the door. She gave me the “I’m serious” glare before leaving. I opted for the chair instead of her bed.

“
You’re looking better. That jungle juice Mohammad’s been giving you must be doing some good.”

Her laugh immediately turned into a coughing fit. When it subsided, she said, “It’s doing something, alright. It’s giving me diarrhea.” She looked out the window as Helen walked past. “Poor Helen. She’s been changing sheets twice a day. I told her that I didn’t want any more medicine, but when I saw the look on her face I promised to keep taking it.”

I tried to smile, but I must have failed because she said, “Aron, relax. I know that it’s hard for you being here, so I won’t keep you long. It’s just that...it’s just that I need to ask you something. Okay?”

“
Sure. No…I mean...I’m fine. Really. It’s just that with the Council meetings and all the other stuff going on—”

“
Aron Atherton, you were always a lousy liar. That’s why Rick loved playing poker with you. He said that he wished he had known you before the storm, so that he could have won your money instead of coconut chips.”

I ran my hand through my tangled hair that was getting too long in the back. “He cheated, you know. I never figured out how, but he cheated. Nobody is that lucky.”

She smiled and we sat in silence. Finally, she said, “Aron, I want to talk to you about William.”

“
He was waiting for me this morning outside my hut, you know.” I was speaking too fast, but couldn’t slow down. “I saw that video game he wrote. Pretty impressive. He’s definitely got a knack for programming. A chip off the old block, I guess.”

“
Unfortunately,” she said. “He got something else from Rick. A tendency to keep all of his feelings bottled up inside. That’s part of what I wanted to talk to you about. I’m worried about him and what he’ll do after I’m gone.”

“
Sarah, come on. You’re not going anywhere. Helen wouldn’t allow it.”

“
Aron, let’s not do this. Don’t make me play games like I have to with Helen and Mohammad. I’m dying.” She reached out and took my hand. “It’s okay. We don’t need to talk about it, but don’t pretend. Okay? Just sit there and listen to me. Can you do that for me?”

I cleared my throat. “Sure. Go ahead.” I looked up and pretended to study the cheap painting that hung on the wall above her headboard, hoping the tears that I felt welling up in my eyes didn’t roll out.

“
Do you remember a few years ago after the raid on Embudu?”

How the hell could I forget something like that? Body parts scattered around the island, women raped, and children...children skewered on bamboo stakes, some roasted over open fires.

I nodded.

“
Well, Rick and I talked about what if something like that happened here. I mean, who would take care of William if we both died and he survived? As we started to run through possible candidates, we both said your name at the exact same time and then laughed. That was all there was to it. We had decided.”

Shocked, I looked at her and said, “Sarah, I’m honored…really I am. But I can’t take care of a ten-year-old kid. I don’t have the time. I’m running back and forth to Male all the time, and when I’m not there I’m out fishing and that’s dangerous and…” My mind went blank. I just needed one good excuse, but nothing came to mind.

She smiled and seemed amused. Clearly, I hadn’t made a good case, so I tried a different tactic. “It should be Helen,” I said. “She’s great with him and she knows how to raise a boy. Come on, you’ve heard all of those stories about her and Bob raising six boys in the outback. She’s the one you want, not me.”

 
Sarah shook her head. “Helen is great and she’ll help you out when you’re off island, but William loves 
you
 . He looks up to you, he always has and after Rick died—” She paused and her eyes began to tear up. “After Rick died...well...he never lets you out of his sight. Do you know why?”

I looked up at the painting again.

“
Because he needs you, Aron, and I think you need him too. And right now, I need you to say yes so I don’t have to worry about what will happen to him.”

As a tear rolled down my cheek, I got up and walked to window and looked outside. Something moved up in the palm tree, and I realized it was William’s feet, visible just below the roofline. Every kid had a favorite hiding spot and that tree was his. I wondered if he could hear us way up there.

“
Okay, I’ll make you a deal.” I kept looking outside so she wouldn’t have a chance to read my crappy poker face. “I promise to take care of him, but you’ve gotta promise me something too. You can’t die…not yet. Okay?” I turned and looked into her eyes, “Just promise me that.”

She wiped the tears from her eyes, smiled, and nodded. I knew that it was a promise she couldn’t keep. I just hoped that when the time came, I could keep my end of the bargain.

Chapter 7

It was late afternoon by the time Kamish dropped me off on North Point. We hadn’t spoken much on the trip over. What was there to say? His brothers died while getting me to Male. It was my fault. He’d never say it, but he had to be thinking it.

After the boat left, I walked up to the shack. Before stowing my gear, I checked to see if Jin had replied to any of my messages. Still nothing. That sense that something was wrong grew a little stronger. But there was nothing I could do about it now. Climbing the ladder to the observation deck, I spent the rest of the day scanning the ocean for unidentified vessels that I knew wouldn’t be out there. It didn’t matter. Searching an empty ocean helped keep my mind off Jin, the Council, Sarah…everything.

From the deck, I had an unobstructed, three-hundred-and-sixty degree view. There was nothing out there but water and a tiny sliver of an island called Bandos. It sat a mile and a half south of North Point and was barely visible even with my binoculars.

As the evening sky darkened, I let the binoculars hang from the strap and I sat back into the plastic beach chair.  I watched the sun as it sank into the ocean. And when the last rays finally disappeared below the horizon, I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and willed my body to relax. It was nighttime, which meant that I was safe. Nobody in their right mind would try to navigate the maze of reefs that fenced the northern entrance to the atoll. And they’d have to be completely insane to try it at night.

I took another deep breath and opened my eyes, drinking in the western sky. It was alight with hues of blue, orange, and pink. As I watched the colors slowly melt together, a pang of nostalgia coursed through me. Kelly and I had once watched a  sunset like this from the top of Bishop’s Peak in San Luis Obispo. The nostalgia quickly turned in to sadness as I tried to imagine what a sunset must look like there now. The colors in the sky dimmed along with my spirits, so I climbed down the rickety ladder and went into the shack.

Hastily constructed following the raid on Embudu, the one-room structure served as an early warning post. Barren except for a handful of scrub brush that had somehow found the will to live in the crevices of the dead coral and sand, the island itself was a perfect place for an observation post. It was positioned at the northernmost tip of the atoll and the view from the observation deck was totally unobstructed.

The only electricity on the island came from a small solar panel that powered the cameras on the observation deck. There was no plumbing, no air conditioning, no food, and no water. Everything I needed to survive I had to bring myself. Two five-gallon jugs of water and a plastic crate filled with food sat in the corner. I called that corner the kitchen. The other three corners were designated as the bedroom, the living room, and the office. The bathroom was outside. The toilet was a large flat rock that hung out over a small tide pool. It was the easiest place to maintain balance while squatting. And nature took care of flushing the toilet.

This shack was nothing like the huts on Lohifushi. With its earthen floor and palm frond walls, the shack took the word austere to a whole new level. The huts on Lohifushi were designed to look rustic for the tourists who wanted an authentic island experience without sacrificing any of the modern conveniences of home. The curtains, manufactured to look like hand woven fibers, were made from a fiber optic solar fabric that helped power each hut. There was even air conditioning, although I hadn’t used mine in over eight years. The sweltering heat and humid nights were a thing of the past. The weather now was more like what I had grown up with back on the central coast of California, pleasant days and cool nights.