Beside a Burning Sea

by John Shors

  She put a fresh dressing and bandage on the wound, and then took a drink of coconut milk. He thanked her, and she said, “You should start to exercise that leg.”

  “What is best?”

  “A bit of walking, I think.” She wrapped up the old bandage in a palm frond. “Care to join me?” she asked, not ready to retire beneath the shade of the banyan tree, and believing that some company would lift his spirits.

  Akira smiled. Wanting to please her, he tried to rise to his feet without appearing to be stiff or in pain. He almost succeeded. Glancing up and down the beach, he said, “So much beauty. Where is it best to start?”

  Annie held him by the elbow and proceeded to lead him toward the water. Once the sea touched their feet they began to walk near the shoreline. Though the sun was far along in its journey across the sky, its touch was still fairly hot. Fortunately, a breeze kept the air refreshing. To Annie, the island seemed unusually alive. Crabs scurried about the sand, ivory-colored birds dove upon unsuspecting fish, butterflies added color to the sky, and trees danced in the wind.

  “Tell me about where you lived as a boy,” Annie said, holding his elbow tightly so that he wouldn’t stumble.

  Her directness pleased him, and he smiled. “My home was in the mountains near Kyoto, which is the old capital of Japan. The city sits within mountains, green mountains full of streams and forests and ancient temples.”

  “It sounds wonderful. Almost like . . . like another world.”

  “When I am in those mountains, it is another world.”

  “Can you tell me more?”

  “Of course,” he said, trying not to grimace at the tightness in his leg. “About what would you like to hear?”

  “Oh, tell me about . . . about what you used to do, before you knew anything about poetry or . . . or homework.”

  He smiled. “As a boy . . . I did so many things. But mostly, I would climb mountainside trails made by monks two thousand years ago. In the springtime, cherry blossoms would fall like snow on the trails. And in the autumn, the leaves of maple trees were such a bright orange that the mountains looked to be on fire.”

  “How beautiful.”

  “It was. I would often climb a mountain and sit and watch the city. Many times I sat under my umbrella in the rain.” Akira looked at her, noting that though she was small and thin, she tried her best to support him as he walked. “I sometimes think of myself as . . . as this boy . . . as if he were a different person than me,” he added, speaking quite slowly. “After school, his mother would give him a sweet, and he would climb those green mountains. He would study ants. He would listen to crickets. He would read while atop a rock.”

  Annie helped Akira step over a weather-beaten tree trunk that had been marooned on the beach. “Do you miss this boy?” she asked, sensing that he did.

  “Yes. I do miss him. Very much. In fact, I sometimes . . . sometimes I wonder where he has gone.”

  “Oh, I don’t think such a boy changes that much. He may have grown into a man, and maybe being a man has brought him to different places. But I think he could still walk those trails and still climb those trees.”

  Akira paused, gazing at her face, her eyes. He had never experienced anyone speaking to him this way—telling him how he was perceived. In Japan, people might have found such a comment presumptuous. “I hope you are right,” he finally said, pleased that she could so readily imagine him as a boy.

  “Well, I don’t think a man who writes poetry in the sand is that different from a boy who follows ants up a mountainside.”

  He smiled at her. “And what of you? May I hear of your childhood?”

  She started walking again, leading him over the uneven sand. “My childhood was good and bad. My parents are wonderful. And my sister, as you know, is wonderful. The four of us lived in a cottage in California. We had a dog and a garden, and life was very good.” Annie watched a miniature crab disappear into a nearby hole. “But when I was nine, I almost died from diphtheria. That was the bad. The terrible, really. It . . . changed my childhood. For two years afterward, I hardly left my house. I was afraid of everything. Cars. Strangers. Getting sick. I just . . . I just didn’t want to be hurt again. I still don’t.”

  He shook his head. “I am so sorry about that.” She didn’t reply, and he leaned closer. “May I ask you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “If you were so afraid, why did you come to this war?”

  Annie started to speak but stopped. She’d asked herself this same question dozens of times, and had never discovered the right answer. “To tell you the truth, I don’t really know,” she finally said. “I’ve never had any . . . direction. Never wanted to work to achieve a certain goal because I didn’t want to dedicate my life to something and then not be around to enjoy it. Though you’d never believe it, I was like Isabelle when I was a little girl, working so hard to do everything right. But then I almost died, and everything changed.”

  “But the war . . . it is hard work, yes?”

  “Exactly. I finally decided to stop running. But I’m not sure if I have. My . . . my fiancé once called me a coward, and I think that he was right.”

  “A coward?”

  “He had a reason . . . a good reason for saying it.”

  “You are no coward,” Akira replied. “I have seen many such people. In China, I saw terrible, terrible things. The men that did those things were cowards.”

  “I have no idea what it feels like to be brave,” she confessed, her free hand swinging upward and opening as if to emphasize her point. “What does it feel like?”

  He briefly thought of those he had saved and then the little girl. “For a time, I was brave. I was good. But then I was not.”

  Annie sensed sorrow creeping into his mood, and she did not want his first walk upon his mended leg to be a sad one. And so she said, “I thought of a poem this morning.”

  “You did? May I ask what it is?”

  “We were swimming, and three dolphins came by. One leapt from the water, and to see it . . . well, I wish you had seen it.”

  “May I please hear your poem?”

  “You promise once again that you won’t laugh? That you won’t think I’m a silly girl?”

  “Yes. I give you my promise.”

  Annie briefly closed her eyes, reliving the memory, re-creating the words. Her heartbeat quickening, she told him her poem. After she finished, only the kiss of the waves upon the shore could be heard. “What do you think?” she finally asked.

  “I think,” he said, smiling, “that I may have saved a poet.”

  His words pleased her greatly, and a sudden and unexpected urge to pull him into her arms almost overcame her. Annie felt inexplicably drawn to him, as if he were a colorful flower and she had wings instead of legs. Though Ted was handsome and charming, she’d never been so enticed by him. In fact, she hadn’t even known that she was capable of such powerful feelings.

  “Thank you,” she said finally, managing to resist pulling him closer. “You know, I’m glad it was you who saved me.”

  He looked into her eyes and smiled. “It was a good swim, yes?”

  “A good swim,” she replied, grinning. “Now, here,” she said, pointing beyond the boulders, “is where we saw the dolphins. Let’s look for them.”

  Though his leg was no longer so stiff and he could have easily walked on his own, Akira continued to gently lean against Annie. He sensed that she wanted him to need her, that helping him heal was somehow a part of the path she longed to follow. He wasn’t certain, however, if she saw him as anyone more than a patient with whom she had developed an unforeseen friendship. He hoped she saw him as more. For a reason that he didn’t altogether understand, he wanted to be special in her eyes, to be someone who provided her with solace and sanctuary. Akira had never been such a person, and to his immense surprise, as he walked along the beach with this foreigner who so inspired him, he wanted to do just that—to make her smile and feel as if she were
not alone in the world.

  DAY SIX

  The earth is burning,

  Blackened by machines and men.

  Raindrops are lost tears.

  Fire in the Sky

  In the half-light of dawn, the drone of planes came first, a hum that rose in pitch and volume as engines neared. The pulse of numerous machine guns followed, the sound of airborne warfare strangely rhythmic. Thin orange lines raced across the blue-black air. The sky was suddenly illuminated by explosions of every shape and size. Flying shadows shuddered and burst. The screams of dying planes rose to earsplitting levels as the fragile machines tumbled from the sky. These lopsided fireballs cartwheeled into the sea and vanished.

  On the beach, the nine survivors from Benevolence stumbled from their makeshift beds. Isabelle and Annie rushed to Joshua, Jake held Ratu against his chest, and Roger immediately climbed their banyan tree to get a better view. Following Joshua’s orders, Nathan did his best to put out their campfire. And Akira and Scarlet hurried toward the water with their eyes fixated on the heavens.

  The air battle continued. Joshua, Roger, and Akira understood it best—each able to discern an almost full squadron of bombers with a half-dozen fighter escorts. Another group of fighter planes was attacking the slower bombers. To Annie, guessing which force was American seemed impossible in the faint light. Joshua suspected that the attacking fighters were his comrades, but wasn’t sure. Several of the bombers were destroyed in vast eruptions of fire, while two others slowly arched from the sky to disintegrate into the ocean. Many of the attacking fighters were so bent on annihilating the bombers that they themselves became ripe targets. Explosions illuminated the underbellies of clouds as if some sort of bizarre lightning storm assaulted the sky.

  The battle—as ferocious as it was—lasted only a few minutes. As soon as the attacking fighters wheeled away, Joshua started hurriedly giving orders. He was certain he saw at least one parachute descend to the sea. “A survivor will likely be armed,” he said, wondering how to best protect his wife and unborn child, far more worried about them than himself. “Nathan, conceal the camp and pull everyone back into the jungle. And please do it fast.”

  Roger, who’d dropped from the tree as soon as Joshua spoke, stepped to the lifeboat and quickly produced a coil of rope. “I’ll tie up the monkey,” he said, gesturing toward Akira, eager to humiliate him. “I’ll gag him too.”

  Joshua nodded. “Better safe than sorry.”

  “I’ll—”

  “But, Roger, don’t hurt him. You hear me?”

  “He’s a Nip. Not a—”

  “I asked if you heard me. Did you, Lieutenant? Or do I have to repeat myself?”

  Hating the fact that Joshua saw fit to order him around, Roger tried to suppress his sudden rage. “I heard plenty,” he finally replied, his hands squeezing the rope, a relentless headache adding to his anger. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll tie up the yellow bastard.”

  Annie witnessed their exchange and hurried to stand before Akira. “You can’t be serious!”

  “Annie,” Joshua replied, “he’s with the enemy and we—”

  “What’s wrong with you? He saved my life and he’s my patient! And I won’t have him tied up and gagged!” Furious, Annie stuck her hands out, holding Roger at bay.

  “It’s for our protection!” Joshua said, concerned that they were losing valuable time, and in no mood for such a debate. “He’ll stay tied and gagged until this is over.”

  “He’s no threat!” Annie replied.

  “I’ll be the judge of that! It’s my responsibility!”

  “He’s my patient and my responsibility!”

  “We don’t have time for this,” Joshua said, thrusting his forefinger in her direction. “Not one bit.”

  “Then leave him be!”

  “Annie, you’re putting us all in danger. And you have no right to do that. Do you understand? Now let’s get it over with.”

  “No. We don’t—”

  “We’re going to do this. Right now!”

  Roger stepped forward, roughly pushing her aside. “Get out of my way, you stupid little skirt.”

  Without thought, Annie slapped him. She didn’t mean for her blow to be hard, but in the dim light Roger failed to see it coming, and it landed with some force upon his cheek. Cursing, he dropped the rope and reached for her.

  “Enough!” Akira shouted, moving protectively in front of Annie. “Tie me up! Tie me up now!”

  Roger threw Akira aside. “Shut your mouth, Jap! I’ll break your—”

  “You’ll stand down!” Joshua shouted, grabbing Roger by the shoulders and yanking him backward. “You’ll stand down and you’ll do it now!”

  Roger spun to face Joshua. He balled a fist, but suddenly Jake and Nathan stood beside their captain. His rage nearly overwhelming, Roger resisted the powerful urge to launch himself into the other seamen. He remained still, abruptly craving a cigarette to ease his throbbing head. Cursing again, he picked up the rope and thrust it into Joshua’s hands. “You tie up your Nip.”

  “I will,” Joshua replied. “And you will assist in concealing the camp. Do it well. Then I want you and Jake to meet me in the jungle fifty feet south of the banyan tree. Nathan, take everyone else back into the jungle. Wait there until I send for you.” Joshua muttered something, glanced at the sea, and then started to tie up Akira.

  Annie put her hand on Joshua’s elbow. “We don’t—”

  “Stop it, Annie,” Isabelle interrupted, stepping forward. “For the love of God, stop it right now and come with me. He’ll be fine.”

  “We’ve never gagged or tied up a patient!” Annie said, ignoring Isabelle’s outstretched hand. “It goes against everything we stand for!”

  Isabelle grabbed Annie’s elbow. “We’ve never been stuck on an island before either, have we? There could be Japanese coming ashore! And he could shout to them! Now, stop being so obstinate and come with me!”

  Annie shook off her sister’s grip and hurried into the jungle. After a few paces, she tripped on an unseen root and went sprawling to the dirt. Not bothering to rise, she hugged her knees to her chest and began to cry. She’d grown accustomed to not thinking of war upon the island, but war had once again found her, ripping her apart as it always did.

  JOSHUA, JAKE, AND ROGER lay at the edge of the jungle, peering out over the harbor. The sun had started to rise, and the sand and sea glowed faintly. Joshua held the machete, while Roger and Jake each wielded a spear. “I saw a parachute,” Joshua whispered, still furious about the confrontation but doing his best to face the situation at hand. “It would have fallen not far from here.”

  “Did it drop from that sputtering bomber, Captain?” Jake asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Then I spied it too.”

  Joshua turned to Roger. “And you? What did you see?”

  Roger had a sudden urge to thrust his spear into the captain’s mouth, to listen to him scream. “The same as you,” he heard himself reply, even as he continued to fantasize about what he could do with his fire-hardened spear.

  “Jake,” Joshua said, trying to slow his breath, “your eyes are younger and better than mine. What do you see?”

  “My eyes, Captain, feel older than the hills and twice as dusty, but I do see something.”

  “What? What, Jake?”

  “A man, I reckon.” The engineer pointed far out into the harbor. “Do you spy him, Captain? I think he’s . . . it sure looks like he’s swimming.”

  “Yes, I see something.” Joshua briefly closed his eyes to think. “But we’re not going to do anything until we determine if he’s American or Japanese. If he’s a Jap, we’re going to wait until the right moment to jump him. Let’s not kill him, if we can help it. He might have some useful information.” Joshua watched the man slowly draw nearer. “When I point my finger at him, we’ll jump him. But for now, follow me.”

  Estimating where the man would come ashore, Joshua moved quietly through the und
erbrush. He periodically peered from the jungle to watch the man, who floated on his back and kicked awkwardly toward the beach. Content with their position, Joshua held up his fist, and the three Americans stopped. They then lay down, each positioning himself beneath the undergrowth so that he had a clear view of the harbor.

  As the stranger approached, Joshua’s heart began to race. When the airman neared the beach, he rolled to his stomach and slowly waded ashore. He must have been injured, for his movements were unsteady.

  “He sure ain’t from Arkansas,” Jake whispered.

  Disappointed that the airman was Japanese, Joshua quietly replied, “Remember, when I point, we go. If he draws a gun, kill him. But otherwise, let’s take him alive. No words from here on out.”

  The airman crawled from the sea to the sand. He removed his life jacket, revealing a blue coat. He also wore some kind of hood and flight goggles. A holster hugged his waist. The man stood up slowly, took a few halting steps, and then collapsed. Immediately, Joshua thrust his finger forward, and the three Americans silently sprang from the jungle. They ran beside one another, and by the time the airman heard the shift of sand, they were upon him. Roger and Jake each dove on one of his arms, and as he struggled, Joshua groped for the airman’s holster, which happened to be empty. When their captive continued to fight, Roger hit him hard in the back of the neck. The man went limp.

  Joshua used the airman’s own belt to tie his hands. He then searched him for other weapons. A dagger was strapped to his calf. Joshua pocketed the blade and continued to look for anything of interest. Other than a compass, a pair of binoculars, a medal of some sort, and a pouch of once-dried squid, the airman carried nothing of value. “Jake, you stay here in case another Jap comes ashore,” Joshua said as he stood. “If you see someone else come in, for Pete’s sake hurry and get one of us. I don’t want you facing anyone alone.”

  “Sure thing, Captain.”