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The Islanders

Page 7

by Wesley Stein


  When they had disappeared into the jungle, Tuahine gave up her chase. She knew which direction they were headed and felt it more prudent to meet the authorities and give them information. She ran back to the hotel, as fast as she could.

  The police combed the island as they had the day before and again they found no sign of the girls’ parents. Now they knew there was an accomplice, a third party.

  Tuahine checked on the sleeping girls again. They had no idea their mother had momentarily returned. They would have gone with her, of that Tuahine had no doubt. But where the girls’ mother had planned to take them was still a mystery. Who had helped them off the island? Tuahine wondered.

  Yoggy pushed the boat’s engines as fast as he dared. Claudius and Gertrude were standing at the stern, looking into the darkness behind them for any sign they were being followed.

  “We can’t go back to Three-Hook tonight,” Yoggy called to them after a while. “We’ll have to follow protocol.”

  “What are you talking about?” Claudius asked as he left the stern and came toward the captain’s console. Rachel followed him as Yoggy answered.

  “It’s for our safety,” he said. “And the good of the whole island.”

  “What is?” Rachel asked.

  “We have to stay at sea tonight and tomorrow. Once night falls on the second day we are free to return home.”

  “Why?” Claudius asked. “That’s crazy.”

  “No,” Yoggy replied. “Crazy would be to allow our whole way of life to be brought down by a few cheap marine patrolmen. Our community has survived in secret for decades, Claudius. That is not by accident.”

  He slowed the motors finally and, once he was certain they wouldn't be followed, Yoggy killed the engines and doused the lights.

  “So we’re supposed to drift out here the rest of the night,” Rachel clarified, “and all day tomorrow?”

  “You can go below deck if you like,” Yoggy answered.

  “It’s not that, you asshole,” Claudius shouted suddenly. He started up the ladder that led to the bridge.

  “He’s right,” Gertrude agreed. “We need another drink from the fountain!”

  “Take us to the fountain,” Claudius demanded as he reached the bridge. Yoggy turned from the tiller and put his hands up.

  “Take it easy Claudius,” he said with a half-smile. “We’ll go back soon enough.”

  “Twenty-four hours isn’t soon enough.”

  “Back off Claudius,” Yoggy said sternly. He’d forgotten the power that the water wielded over new drinkers. “I won’t warn you again.”

  Claudius reached out and grabbed Yoggy by the back of the neck and pulled him toward the top of the ladder. Yoggy resisted and punched Claudius in the ribs.

  “Mark!” Rachel shouted from below.

  “My name is Claudius,” her husband replied sharply from the top of the ladder.

  Yoggy charged at him like a bull and Claudius ducked the attack, sending Yoggy over the edge of the ladder and to the deck below.

  Rachel ran over and leaped onto him, pinning her knee into Yoggy’s side. Mark made his way down the ladder with a scowl on his face. Rachel pulled herself off of the man and turned to her husband.

  “Can you get us back to the island?”

  Mark shook his head.

  “I don’t know the way,” he said. Then he kicked Iago in the ribcage and heard a crack. The captain cried out in pain.

  “Take us to the fucking fountain,” Claudius demanded through clenched teeth.

  “Now!” Gertrude added with a shout.

  She could feel her muscles tightening without the water. She could feel her ears swell with pressure, her eyes droop in weariness. Claudius was feeling it too, though for him it was frustration and anxiety that made his heart race. He couldn’t breathe well and felt sick to his stomach.

  Yoggy had felt this same way as a newcomer to the island, all those years ago. He now recalled the reckless desire to drink that he’d harbored in the early days. He knew it was dangerous to be stranded with these desperate addicts. But protocol was the highest law of the community and he knew it was suicide to break it. Juliet would have him caved-in. Yoggy knew what he had to do.

  “I’m sorry,” he said from his back. Then he kicked Mark in the shin and used his other leg to sweep Rachel’s feet out from beneath her.

  In a flash Yoggy was on his feet and waiting for Mark’s counter-attack. He came in a fury, swinging his fists. Claudius connected on a shot or two and Yoggy stumbled back.

  They spun around as Claudius took hold of Yoggy’s shoulder and tried to punch him again. Yoggy ducked it and came up with a solid uppercut and connected with Mark’s chin.

  With a sudden scream, Gertrude charged at Yoggy with all her might. He stepped aside and reached for her, pulling and pushing, when before he knew it, he had thrown Gertrude overboard.

  Claudius came at him then, burning with anger. He punched Yoggy in the nose and it cracked. He punched him in the ribs again and they cracked again.

  Yoggy howled in pain.

  Claudius grabbed him by the neck and pushed him to the edge of the boat where, just on the other side, Gertrude was treading water.

  Claudius choked Yoggy with two hands. The shirtless sailor couldn’t breathe. He had no choice but to pull his knife and stab it through Claudius’s armpit.

  He tossed his attacker overboard as Gertrude screamed in horror.

  “What have you done?” She cried from the dark waves. Yoggy gripped himself with his right arm and winced in pain. He slowly made his way up the ladder while Gertrude berated him from below. She was trying to help her husband, who was choking on blood and water.

  When Yoggy reached the bridge, he ignited the engines. Gertrude howled.

  “You bastard! What are you doing?”

  “I’m sorry,” he said without looking at her.

  After a moment he turned and finally looked down. Gertrude stopped crying a moment as she tried to hold Claudius’s head afloat. Iago continued, pointing over Rachel’s head.

  “Three-Hook Island is to the north,” he said. You can swim there. You’ll both be fine.”

  With that, he pushed forward the throttle and sped away from the married couple.

  Mark did not die, nor did Rachel. But they were not fine. Claudius and Gertrude were tortured by the sea. They were repeatedly drowned but could never find death. They swam North until their lungs took on too much water to purge.

  Then they floated, adrift on their backs for a day and a night before one of Juliet’s patrols finally found them, a few miles from Three-Hook Island.

  When they had been treated with fountain water and brought back to relative health, the damage was already done.

  Their lungs had filled with saltwater to the point that Juliet’s surgeon could barely salvage them. Claudius and Gertrude would never breathe properly again. After several surgeries, including tracheostomies, they also lost the ability to speak. Much of their brains had suffered trauma too, and loss of some functions occurred.

  Despite their internal injuries, they had managed to reshape their appearance nicely. Juliet had tended to Gertrude’s blistered skin and dark sunspots with special tinctures she‘d crafted inside the fountain room.

  Over the next fifteen years, Gertrude’s and Mark’s hair would recover, their skin would improve. But their minds and their insides were ruined forever, changed by the cruel sea and the far crueler Juliet.

  CHAPTER 5

  TYBALT

  Our parents stood there, looking almost the same age as us, offering no warmth. Their eyes were cold and gray, surrounded by a smudged circle of black bruising on otherwise flawless skin.

  “Claudius and Gertrude,” Juliet began. “Came to us fifteen years ago. But you already knew that.”

  “What happened to them?” I asked.

  “Your father was a talented lawyer. He helped me acquire the cargo ship you saw in the lagoon.”

  “What is this place?”
Joanna asked. “What’d you do to them?”

  The woman laughed softly, then motioned for Claudius and Gertrude to come up to the platform, which they did. We now stood at the mouth of the passage, all of us, in a circle.

  “This is a sacred place,” Juliet said. “Ancient and pure, with origins in the book of Genesis, when God created man and put him in a beautiful garden. He could live forever, want for nothing, and indulge in all the pleasures of the world.”

  “That’s called sin,” I said. “Man got greedy, and now we all suffer for it.”

  “Exactly!” The woman nearly shouted as she spun around and pointed at me. “We all suffer. But the question is, must we suffer?”

  I looked at my sisters. They weren’t sure what Juliet was getting at and neither was I.

  “Moses had been given a vision,” the woman continued. “He saw the fall of man. A similar vision was given to our founder, Thomas Mills. Shakespeare had seen an image of the fountain of life. He learned that it had not perished, but remained hidden on earth. Shakespeare Mills spent most of his life searching for it, chasing legends from one culture to another, sailing the seven seas.”

  As Juliet described this man, I couldn’t help but think of our Father. She could have just as easily been talking about him. Mark had chosen to forfeit the life of a family man, and we seldom saw him. But when we did it was on crazy adventures, always searching for something we couldn’t comprehend, chasing legends, from one culture to another.

  “Our founder finally heard of this particular island,” Juliet continued. “And soon he’d discovered this lagoon and the network of cave tunnels. It wasn’t long before he reached the triumphant end to his lifelong pursuit, and found the fountain, the tree of life.”

  “These aren’t our parents,” Jacey said suddenly. None of us had dared look upon these strangers too long, but it was clear they weren’t the same people who’d raised us half our lives.

  “Our parents were called Rachel and Mark,” Jacey added.

  “Everyone is given a new name,” Juliet replied. “Rachel and Mark died away, to make room for Claudius and Gertrude, born again as eternal beings. Once you drink from the fountain, you cannot die.”

  Juliet paused. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before she went on.

  “You’ll be given a new name,” she finally said. “Shakespearean, in honor of our founders.”

  “So that’s what happened to them?” Joanna asked. “They drank?”

  “They came here to indulge,” Juliet said. “Like us all, they came for everlasting youth. But like so many, they did not know the full cost.”

  “What cost?” We asked.

  “They drank,” the woman said. “And now they cannot die, cannot age. Their souls are now on the outside. Tear the flesh into a million pieces and your parents will remain. But if they leave the island, if they go too long without a drink from the fountain, they will wither.”

  “What’s wrong with them?” Joanna asked. “They look like zombies!” Juliet’s demeanor changed, somewhat. I could see that she didn’t care for Joanna’s tone or commentary. She smiled at my sister, but her teeth were clamped together.

  “They were disobedient,” Juliet said at the front of her mouth. “They chose to break protocol. They withered.”

  “Withered?” Joanna asked.

  “The more time we spend away from the fountain, the more it drains our life,” Juliet explained. “Your mother and father languished in the ocean for days before we rescued them. They spent too long away from the font and damaged their flesh. By the time they drank again, it was too late. They can feel no warmth, taste no food, see no color.”

  “The water is a drug,” I said. “They overdosed.” Juliet did not disagree but nodded with her eyebrows raised.

  “It was a common mistake in those days,” she said, “before I came to lead the village. My Romeo ruled by my side, and Shakespeare too. We were the Triad. After Romeo left the island, I made some changes.

  Juliet motioned with her head and we were shoved into the passageway. Our handlers came in behind us, followed by our parents and then Juliet. We were marched down and down, until we reached the glowing steam, and were forced to cross through it.

  “It was the three of us,” Juliet said above the splashing of the water. “The Triad brought the first people here, built the first huts. It was Romeo and myself, in the beginning, with Shakespeare. We learned how to pirate passing ships for supplies and luxuries. By the time Romeo departed, we had everything we needed here. But we longed for more.”

  Across the wall of steam, natural gas leaked from the rock and small blue flames illuminated the room along with the mysterious orange glow. We could see an island of stone centered in the large cavern, and from its middle, the source of the splashing water. Rising for ten feet and crashing back down again, a silver mushroom of a billion droplets spewed from the floor. It looked like a tree. It was the fountain.

  We’ve been waiting for you for a long time,” Juliet said. “You and your sister.” She looked at Jacey.

  First I felt relieved that I’d been ignored, but then felt afraid that I was disposable.

  “Your father was supposed to bring you long ago,” the woman continued. “Your mother wouldn’t allow it.”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked. Juliet ignored me.

  The beautiful woman, now bathed in the mixed glow of blue and orange flames, crossed in front of us and nodded to our handlers. They untied the rope from our wrists and released us. Our captors departed the cavern then and we were left with Juliet and the shell of our parents.

  “It would have been much easier,” Juliet said, “if you had stayed on the ship. Claudius and Gertrude wouldn’t have had to chase you all over the island, and into the catacombs.”

  “Let us go,” I called out. Juliet ignored me again. Jacey tried it then.

  “Please,” she begged. “Set us free.” The woman ignored her too, except to offer a sympathetic smile.

  “But you somehow made it here on your own,” she said. “It is truly fate that you’ve come.”

  “You’re the one who kidnapped us?” Joanna cried.

  “Fifteen years late is better than never,” Juliet smiled.

  Then she clapped her hands together a few times.

  “I want to introduce you to your caretaker,” she said. “He’ll be looking after you, during the assimilation process, to make sure there are no problems.”

  Juliet clapped one last time and called out through the passage.

  “Tybalt, come!”

  Fifteen Years Earlier

  “Your Honor, these girls have been through enough,” the attorney said. “I ask the court to honor the legal, truthful, and binding last wishes of Mister and Mrs. Barklee and deny this motion.”

  “Ms. Ka-hell?”

  “It’s Kahale,” Tuahine smiled as she stood from behind the long oak table. “Like tamale.”

  The judge hardly acknowledged her but Tuahine continued.

  “With respect, your Honor, this can’t be the Berklee’s last wishes, because they’re not dead.”

  Sanderson’s attorney’s scoffed. There was commotion from their table. The lawyers looked up as the judge cleared his throat.

  “Is there a death certificate yet?”

  “No, your honor,” the attorney for Ben Sanderson said. Tuahine kept pressing.

  “Judge, these girls have never met Mr. Sanderson, except once at a company picnic,” she said. It was her turn to point at Sanderson now. “Surely he’s not the best temporary solution for them.”

  “If I grant your motion Ms. Kahale,” the Judge asked, “how would you proceed through the courts?”

  “Your honor-” Sanderson’s attorney began but the presiding ruler held up a hand.

  “I would file for custody,” Tuahine answered, “and if I didn’t win custody, I would ask for daily visits, at the very least.”

  “Ms. Kahell,” the Judge started before correcting h
imself. “I’m sorry, Ms. Kahale, you cannot petition the court for visitation rights. You only met these girls a few weeks ago yourself.”

  “I flew from halfway around the world to be here for them today,” Tuahine said.

  “I understand,” the judge admitted. “And if Mr. Sanderson was not sitting right over there.” He pointed to the table where Sanderson huddled with his attorneys. “I’d have no problem granting you temporary custody.”

  Tuahine turned her head for a glance at her son, who was sitting in a rolling office chair behind her. When she turned back around, the judge was reaching for his gavel.

  “I’m going to deny the motion,” he said as he brought it down with a smack.

  Tuahine’s heart suddenly dropped. She turned around again and now her son was spinning slow circles in the chair.

  Tua could see his mother was upset. He knew that his new friends weren’t coming to live with them after all. He smiled at his mother and she hugged him. She had lost this battle, but she wasn’t going to lose the war.

  “Come on,” she said as she collected herself.

  “Are we going home?” Tua asked.

  “No,” his mother answered. “Far from it.”

  She took Tua back to the motel and paid for another week. She made sure to get a ground-floor room next to the pool so she could keep an eye on the boy while he swam, his favorite hobby.

  She spent the following day filling out job applications. She swam with Tua in the evenings. They ate breakfast every morning at the Denny’s behind the motel. After the week was over, Tuahine had almost burned through her savings. But then her phone rang.

  She landed a job with a swimming pool company. With no work visa, using her degree wasn’t an option. And though she loved the water and thought the job might be fun, it wasn’t. She spent the following year installing pools, not maintaining them.

  She checked-in on the girls almost daily, either by phone or at their school. Tuahine made sure to enroll her son in the same Junior-High School as Jennifer and Jacey. Tua and his mother had learned to enjoy their life in the States.

 

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