Horizons

by Catherine Hart

  Communication between them was soon impossible— words too feeble to be heard above the roar of the wind and vision reduced to a few hazy feet. Such were their circumstances when a palm tree came crashing directly in front of them, the serrated trunk missing Zach and Sydney by scant inches. The mighty thump as it landed vibrated the ground, sending them all tumbling and skidding. One by one, gasping and trembling, they crawled into a hasty huddle.

  “Anybody hurt?” Zach yelled.

  Each, in turn, shook his or her head.

  “Okay, let’s go on. I estimate we’re about three-quarters of the way there.”

  Kelly tugged at his arm. “Wait!” she hollered. “Where’s Earl?”

  Zach’s frown deepened. “He’s either under the tree or on the other side of it, I guess. Here, you take Syd.” He handed the frightened child over to her. “I’ll go have a look.”

  Gavin went with him, and was back in a few minutes. “Come on. Zach’s clearing a path on the other side.”

  “Earl?” Kelly inquired on a shout.

  “We couldn’t find him. He’s probably somewhere ahead of us.”

  It took another forty-five minutes of muscle-straining labor before they finally, gratefully, stumbled into the cave.

  On leaden legs, unable to see where she was going in the murky interior, Kelly tripped over something and landed on her knees. Her hand connected with several small, cylindrical objects. Only as her vision adjusted to the dim lighting did she recognize them as the finger bones of the Japanese soldier’s skeletal remains. Her frantic scream echoed off the rock walls as she jerked away, scrambling on all fours to the opposite side of the cave, as far from the dead man as she could go. There she drew herself into a quivering, teeth-clattering ball. Blair and Alita, joined her, staring in abject horror at the macabre object still dressed in tattered uniform.

  Zach approached them to hand over Sydney. “I know you women get the willies over this sort of thing, but face it. The guy can’t hurt you.”

  “Get… rid… of… him.” Kelly forced the words out.

  “Just toss the old boy out in the storm, huh?” Zach said. The wide-eyed feminine trio nodded in tandem.

  “We need the cave worse than he does,” Gavin contributed. “And it’s not as if he’s in danger of catching pneumonia or anything.”

  Between them, though neither was happy about performing the chore, Zach and Gavin disposed of the remains, hauling the body, clothes and all, outside. The one thing in their favor was that enough time had elapsed since the man had died that all organic matter had long since decomposed, leaving behind nothing but dry bones, dust, and moth-eaten cloth.

  With a grimace, Gavin wiped his hands on his pants. “I guess it could have been a lot messier.”

  Zach dredged up a chuckle. “Yeah. Give me ‘dem bones, dem bones, dem dry bones’ anytime.”

  All in all, once the skeleton had been removed, the cave wasn’t that dreadful. The opening faced away from the wind, which helped keep the rain from entering. And once they’d lit the coconut oil lamps, it wasn’t nearly as gloomy. The light revealed a small stack of age-dried wood just inside the entrance, and after claiming a few logs from a nest of disgusting insects, they soon had a cheery little fire going as well. They clustered around it, drenched to the skin and all but numb with fatigue.

  “How long do you suppose the storm will last?” Kelly inquired.

  “Your guess is as good as any,” Gavin replied wearily. “I just hope my raft is still intact afterward.”

  “You lashed it down, didn’t you?” Zach asked.

  “As best I could, yes. I wedged it partway under a deadfall, where the wind wouldn’t catch it so easily.”

  “Speaking of wind,” Blair said, “it nearly blew my contacts right out of my eyes. I really need to get these things out and clean them before they do permanent damage.”

  “Did you pack up your eye-cups?” Alita asked. In the first week, Blair had devised a unique system for cleaning her contact lenses. She did so by employing two well-scrubbed lime halves partially filled with salt water, which substituted fairly well in place of her usual saline solution.

  “Yes, would you mind fetching them for me?” Blair replied. “They’re in that red purse. But I don’t have any salt water handy.”

  “You’ll just have to use fresh water this time,” Kelly told her. “I hope we have enough to last for a while. It doesn’t look as if the storm is letting up at all.”

  “As long as it keeps raining like this, we don’t have to worry about getting our water from the pool,” Zach inserted. “Just set the coffeepot outside, and it will fill up in no time.”

  “Or be blown to China,” Gavin claimed.

  They sat quietly for a time, shifting once in a while to aim another portion of their clammy bodies and clothes toward the fire. Gavin was first to break the silence once more.

  “Where do you think Earl made off to?”

  “Who gives a flying fig?” Blair muttered.

  For a moment no one answered, that in itself a condemnation of Roberts. Then Kelly spoke.

  “You’re sure he wasn’t caught beneath that tree?”

  “Fairly certain,” Zach averred. “He wasn’t under the trunk, at any rate, which is where he should be if the palm had fallen on him.”

  Kelly nodded. “As much as I resent the man, I would still hate to think of him lying out there, trapped and bleeding to death, with the rainwater slowly rising to drown him.”

  “I doubt he’d return the sentiment,” Alita declared. “That is one bad hombre. Rotten through and through.”

  With none of their usual projects to occupy them, nothing to do but watch the storm rage on outside the cave, the hours passed slowly. Alternately, they napped, nibbled on the food, played with Sydney, and carried on desultory conversation.

  “If I’d known we were bound to be so bored, I’d have carved a deck of playing cards,” Zach grumbled. “Or a set of dice.”

  “We could play Twenty Questions,” Kelly offered.

  “Or Charades,” Blair added without much enthusiasm.

  “How about trivia?” Gavin suggested. Immediately he thought better of it. “Forget that. Blair would know all the answers before we got the questions out of our mouths.”

  Alita brightened. “I know what will entertain you. I could read your palms. You know, foretell the future for all of you.”

  Zach snorted. “So where were you with this offer when I was standing in the airport ticket line? You sure could have saved us all a lot of trouble if you’d proposed this about three weeks ago.”

  “And why, if you can predict what is going to happen, were you on that disastrous flight?” Gavin insisted.

  “Oh, lay off, guys,” Kelly told them. “This could be interesting. Lord knows it’s got to be better than counting flies on the wall.” She scooted closer to Alita and held out her hand. “Do mine first.”

  Alita studied Kelly’s palm very seriously for several seconds. “This,” she intoned, tracing a line on Kelly’s hand, “is your life line. Very long. Your love line is broken only once, which probably indicates your divorce from Brad. These two marks below your little finger are marriage lines, the lower one being your marriage to Brad, which would lead me to believe you will marry once more.” She curved Kelly’s thumb into her palm and counted the creases formed by the lower knuckle. “Four, one faint and three strong, which could mean one miscarriage and three full-term babies.”

  “I’ve already had the miscarriage,” Kelly said.

  “Then you will have three more natural children, not counting any you may adopt or otherwise inherit.”

  “What about me?” Blair asked curiously. “What does my future hold?”

  Again, Alita took a moment to study Blair’s palm. “Your life line has a narrow arc to it, which says you are a private or shy person, as a rule. You need time to yourself to revive your energies. Your head line is deep, with a long curve, to indicate that you are an intelle
ctual who is very creative and good at communication, possibly in the field of writing.”

  “Oh, my gosh!” Blair gushed. “I’ve always dreamed of someday writing a book. While I was in Australia, I did a lot of research on a possible idea I have for one.”

  “If we ever get rescued, you’ll have one heck of a storyline,” Gavin pointed out. “All about our island adventure.”

  Alita went on with the reading. “Your love line is very strong. You love deeply. I hope you love Anton very much, for I see only one marriage line.” She curled Blair’s thumb over and added, “I also see five children for you.”

  Blair grimaced. “Five? Are you sure? Anton is not going to be thrilled to hear that. Three is pushing it, for him and our budget.”

  Alita gave a definite nod. “Five. But perhaps your money problems will ease once your first book is published, no?”

  “This is a bunch of bunk!” Zach declared.

  “But entertaining,” Kelly countered. “I want to hear what she has to say about you, Zach.” He frowned, and she wheedled, “Oh, come on. If it’s all in fun, where’s the harm? Let her see your palm.” Reluctantly, he held it forth for Alita’s perusal.

  “Your life line is strong, long, and widely arced. You like being around people and are very creative. Your love line is also long and deep, and when you give your heart to someone it is for always. I see two marriage lines. Your head line indicates that you are very good with facts, numbers, and logical thinking. Ah, see here? There is a three point fork in it, which means that you are exceptionally intelligent.” She folded his thumb over. “You will father four children in your lifetime.”

  “This life or the next?” he jeered.

  Alita smiled. “This one, and may they all be smartasses, like you.”

  Next, she reached for Gavin’s hand. “Your life line is strong, but it has a few problem areas which signify illnesses or injuries. Your heart line is shallow. That usually means you hold back your affections, or do not love as deeply as most people. You are going to have to work hard to achieve the success you want. You will marry or be involved in serious relationships three times, and have two children along the way.”

  “What hocus-pocus bull!” he grumbled. “And what about you? What does your own palm say about your life? Or is that a big dark secret?”

  “I, of course, am very talented and creative. My life line is strong and wide. But like you, my love line is lightly grooved. I do not trust enough to give my heart fully to anyone, yet I will probably marry four times and have one child.”

  “Too bad Earl isn’t here. It would be interesting to hear how his palm reads, wouldn’t it?” Blair commented.

  “Probably like a murder novel,” Kelly said with a shiver. “Or a nightmare.”

  “He can’t be sane, to prefer being out in this storm,” Zach stated flatly. “Look at it. The wind is blowing so hard that some of the trees are bent nearly in half and are being stripped of their leaves.”

  Kelly peered out. The rain was coming down sideways in thick sheets. The wind was howling, in a loud mournful bellow. Loose debris, mostly foliage and branches, were whipping around as if caught in a giant blender. The storm seemed to be getting progressively worse with each passing hour, with no let-up in sight.

  Much later, in the middle of the night, they were awakened by a huge thud, which literally shook the earth beneath them.

  “What was that?” Kelly wondered aloud. In the wavering light of their little fire, she scanned the rock ceiling overhead, relieved not to find any menacing cracks or signs that it might be ready to cave in on them.

  “My guess would be that a tree just blew down,” Zach answered. “Somewhere close.”

  “It must have been a big one, to make the ground shake like that,” Alita surmised warily.

  Now, along with the moan of the wind and the steady pounding of the rain, they could hear a variety of mysterious creaks and groans from outside the cave, though they couldn’t see a thing in the black-as-pitch night.

  “This is terrible, hearing all these ominous sounds and not being able to tell what is making them,” Kelly said. “It reminds me of those slumber parties we used to have as teens, where we’d sit up all night and scare the peanut butter out of each other by telling ghost stories.”

  “We did the same thing around the campfire at scout camp,” Zach admitted. “Eerie tales of ghouls and goblins and escaped convicts on the loose. We’d frighten each other simple and think it was great fun.”

  “I should have figured you for a boy scout,” Gavin commented. “And to make it even more realistic, we’ve got our very own real-life murderer wandering around out there somewhere, probably trying to concoct ways to bash in our heads.”

  “More likely trying to find a way to breathe water,” Blair argued. “It’s still raining cats and dogs. You should have built an ark instead of a raft, Gavin.”

  “I’m wide awake now,” Alita complained.

  Kelly nodded. “Me, too, but I’d rather not exchange ghost stories tonight, if you don’t mind. This weather has me jittery enough as it is. Let’s talk about something more cheerful.”

  “Like what?” Blair yawned. “The bedtime fairy tales I read to my children?”

  Kelly shrugged. “I don’t know. Old movies? Good books we’ve read. Whatever. Anything to take our minds off the storm.”

  “Okay, I’m game,” Zach surprised her by saying. “Name the seven dwarves.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding!” Gavin scoffed.

  “I’m as serious as a grave,” Zach assured him. “My daughter and I used to do this sort of thing all the time.” For five fairly intelligent adults, it took them considerable time and mental effort to finally name all seven. They kept forgetting about Happy. Even when Zach finally recalled him, the others were skeptical. “Are you sure his name was Happy? I don’t remember him.”

  Next, they recalled all of Santa’s reindeer. That accomplished, they went on to list the items for the Twelve Days of Christmas, and nearly wound up in an argument over whether the maids were milking or dancing, and whether the geese or the swans were a’laying.

  Then Kelly suggested something more challenging. “Name all the Waltons.”

  “From the T.V. show?” Alita asked. “How many kids did they have, anyway?”

  “A whole slew of them,” Gavin replied. “Plus the old couple and the Mom and Dad.”

  “Seven or eight, I think,” Blair said. “I remember three girls and at least four boys.”

  At length they remembered all of them, though no one could recall the grandparents being called anything but Grandma and Grandpa. They even recalled Ike, who ran the general store. But the stumper was remembering the two old-maid sisters who still brewed the family “recipe” in their kitchen. Nobody had a clue, and they finally gave up, though Blair swore not knowing would drive her nuts until she finally thought of their names.

  In retaliation, she said, “List the seven seas.”

  “Which seven?” Alita wanted to know. “There must be hundreds.”

  “The seven referred to in books and in songs,” Blair clarified. “As in, ‘he sailed the seven seas.’ ”

  “Of course, Miss Trivial Pursuit already knows the answers to this one,” Gavin presumed correctly.

  They tried, but eventually had to worm the answer out of Blair before going on to the seven wonders of the world. After a series of movie titles, song lyrics, and famous actors, they tired of the game and settled down to try and sleep again.

  Kelly, punch-drunk from lack of sleep and trivial overload, yawned and called out, “Goodnight, John Boy.”

  Alita giggled. “Sleep tight, Mary Ellen.”

  Zach got into the act. “ ’Night, Ben.”

  “Back at you, Jim-Bob,” Gavin grumbled.

  “Darn it, you guys!” Blair groused. “Now you’ll have me trying to remember those two old ladies again!”

  As one, the others chorused, “Goodnight, Elizabeth!”

&
nbsp; Chapter 20

  A couple of hours past dawn, the storm stopped as suddenly as if someone had flipped an electric switch. The rain quit, the sun shone brightly, the wind ceased so completely that not a leaf stirred. The small tribe of temporary cave dwellers ventured out into the open for the first time in twenty-four hours.

  “Thank God that’s over and done!” Kelly exclaimed, turning her face to the clear blue sky. “I was starting to develop claustrophobia.”

  “But it might not be,” Zach said. “This may be just a short respite, the eye of the storm, with more to come.” Alita gazed about, at the cerulean sky stretching as far as the eye could see, at their rain-washed sun-dappled surroundings. “Couldn’t be. There’s not a cloud in sight. No storm brewing on the horizon. No haze. Just hot, glorious sunshine.”

  “And no breeze whatever,” Zach pointed out. “Which is odd in itself, as if we’ve been locked inside a vacuum.”

  “Or the center of a typhoon,” Blair agreed. “If it’s large enough, we could have hours of calm weather before getting hit by the backside of the hurricane.”

  Zach nodded. “In which event, we’d better stick close to the cave today. Just for safety’s sake.”

  In scouting their immediate area, they discovered the storm had done more damage than they’d suspected. Numerous limbs, branches, and whole trees had been felled. Most of the flowers that had been in bloom were now denuded, as were some trees, many of which now sported windblown seaweed in place of leaves. Several dead birds were strewn about amid the debris. But the strangest sight were the fish—swept ashore by the gale and deposited willy-nilly three-quarters of a mile inland, some landing on rocks, others high in treetops, like some type of bizarre ceremonial decoration.