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The next time I awoke there was a thatch roof over my head. My mouth tasted coconuty. I felt a nice breeze and heard a strange sound. It took me awhile to realize what it was, a chicken. Immediately I realized my body felt better, and I may even be able to stand up. At the moment, though, I didn’t want to. The bed beneath me was amazingly soft, stuffed with feathers or some shit like that. I sat up in the bed and felt the pain in my ribs, but I could take it. The pain wasn’t nearly as intense as I remembered. My wound was ugly, but less puffy, and there were some sort of bugs flying all over it. I remembered what the man called Agwe said and left them alone.
The room was small with sandy concrete floors and cinder block walls. There was a large window without glass that let in the breeze and two doorways, both missing an actual door. The open doors made me feel relieved. I obviously wasn’t in jail. One led to another room, and it looked like the other went outside. I slowly stood up. Immediately my legs buckled, and I felt lightheaded, but I didn’t faint. I stood still for a moment then took a small step. That step felt glorious. Now I knew that I wouldn’t die.
“Hello. Hello!” There was no one in the house, so I slowly stepped toward the doorway that led outside. I rubbed my eyes, still trying to get used to the light. A black chicken walked by. There was no driveway or road. I was in the backyard, but there was no fence. It was a large sandy area with seven large tree stumps around a fire pit. An old shack stood to my left. There were no walls, just four beams and dozens of scraps of tin to make the roof. Under it was a table about waist high where flies were buzzing around something bloody.
“Hello? Forest, Becca?” There was no response. I was alone. I knew the ocean was really close, because I could smell it. Past the firepit was a mixture of thick palms, high grass, and vines that looked like sea grapes. There were two distinct trails, one to my left and one to my right. I wanted to see where they led, but thought it best to find something to drink. A lone seagull flew above me heading west, fighting wind out of the same direction. It was quiet, peaceful.
It kind of felt like I was high up, at least for the Bahamas. I turned around and faced the house. Damn. It looked like a piece of tropical fruit. Lime green on top, lemon yellow on bottom. Thatch and palms formed the roof, with what looked like a few pieces of tin where it must have been leaking. There was an old gate on the left side of the house that was covered in vines. It served no purpose, but in years past I could imagine a walkway there that led around front.
I stepped back into the house to the room where I slept. I walked slowly through the other doorway. To my right there was a short hallway and one other room. Continuing on led to the only other room in the house. There were no decorations, not a single painting, nothing. Whoever lived here didn’t spend much time inside. There were a total of six windows in the large room, two on each side. They hadn’t been cleaned in a long time. In the far corner of the room I saw another mattress like the one I slept on and Forest’s backpack next to it. In the other corner a similar mattress, but fluffier.
There was a front door, but no knob or lock. The other side of the room had a long counter with some cabinets and a sink. Above the sink were two windows that looked out into the backyard and next to it, another doorway that led out. There was an actual door there with chipped white paint and a makeshift handle that looked like a piece of driftwood. There were no switches on the walls. No lights on the ceiling, lamps, TV, or anything electronic.
I walked to the kitchen. There was a pile of peeled coconuts to the right of the sink. Next to them was a hammer and a piece of metal that kind of resembled a screw driver. I grabbed one and pounded the metal through the top of the coconut. Some of the milk splashed out, but I quickly held it over my head and drank.
I tested out the sink, and to my surprise fresh water flowed out of the spicket. There was running water, but no electricity. I looked around. There wasn’t a bathroom anywhere.
“Becca,” I whispered. I had to find her and make sure she was safe.
I walked out back and took the trail to my right. My movement was slow, probably half speed, but I could manage.
I took a quick look back at the house and noticed a small shack I hadn’t seen before. It looked like an outhouse, and there was a hose strung up above the makeshift paneling that looked like it served as a shower. That was good.
I meandered my way along the well worn trail between palm trees, vines, and lot of these yellow flowers that were in groups of five or six. I had never seen them before, and the bright yellow with no spots really stuck out along the trail. In front of me the blue appeared. The gorgeous blue. I stepped out on a large flat rock that overlooked a rocky shoreline. The crystal clear water contained patches of dark blue and light green. There were waves hitting the rocks, but they were small, maybe knee high.
“Hello? Becca!” My voice seemed to echo. No reply. Damn. Where the hell were they? It was a short walk back to the house, but I was moving like one of those giant tortoises. I made my way back and took the trail to the left this time. It was different and steep. There were no flowers, and I was surrounded by high grass all the way down. I turned a corner near the base and the lookout was jaw dropping.
There she was. Becca lying down in the sand, a bathing suit on with some leaves or something covering her eyes. What the hell? Was she tanning?
I lifted my face to the calm blue waters and saw a wooden boat about 500 yards out. A black guy and a white guy. The old man and Forest looked like they were fishing. No way in hell. It was all a lot to take in and quite the shift from what I last remembered. I looked back at Becca. Hot as hell Becca. An open mouth smile appeared on my face. I wanted to run out on that beach like a madman.
Then I felt like I got hit by a ton of bricks. The kissing. It was a dream. Son of a bitch. No. Damn it. I couldn’t believe I dreamed that. The smile was gone while I tried to remember. Wait, was it real? Probably not. Damn it, I just couldn’t remember. I wanted to go down there and see them, but I had to remember. Shit. I racked my brain so hard. I needed to know, because it would make all the difference in how I approached to her. What if I tried to kiss her, and she knocked me out like I was some creepy lunatic. But it was vivid, like I could recall with crystal clarity the taste of her lips. But it also had a dream-like feeling to it. I had no idea, but logically it would make sense that is was a dream. Shit.
I walked out onto the beach with a slight limp, barely visible I hoped.
“Becca,” I said.
She popped up. “No way!” she shouted and ran toward me.
She hugged my neck, “Oh my God. You’re walking.”
“I feel a lot better. How long have we been here?”
“A few days. You would only open your eyes for seconds at a time, but we could tell your coloring was coming back.” I looked at her lips then got nervous and moved my attention to the boat. I was even more unsure than I had been before.
“They’re fishing?” I asked.
“Yeah, but it’s way different. Agwe knows what he’s doing.”
Becca held her hands around her mouth, “Forest! Agwe!” she yelled.
They turned their attention toward the beach, and Becca pointed at me. Forest stayed seated, but Agwe raised his hands in the air and started doing some funky dance on the boat. He looked like he was motioning to Forest to pull the lines in. They started rowing toward us. Forest on the oars and Agwe standing on the bow.
“Do you like it here?” I asked.
“Definitely,” said Becca.
“Have any police been around?”
“We’re really secluded,” she said. “His house is almost at the end of the island. He said it’s about a mile down the road until you reach the next house and another mile before the first town. We don’t know anything else. We haven’t been here that long.”
“This worked out good,” I replied.
“Yeah,” she said with a smile.
“Does Agwe know about the guys we killed?” I asked.
/> Her expression changed to a much more serious one, and she shook her head.
Forest and Agwe neared the beach, and Agwe jumped out into waist deep water. His face lit up with an enormous smile, like I was his long lost cousin or something.
“Joey!” he shouted. I nodded and gave him a slight wave. He reached out to give me a big hug, and I held up my hands to stop him. He remembered my pain and backed away.
“Joey! You are better now, yes?”
I nodded, “Yeah. I think so. Thanks.”
“Thank Becca. Your nurse.”
I looked at her a little sheepishly and said, “Thank you.”
“Have you had something to eat, drink?” asked Agwe.
“Coconut milk.”
“Good! Now look,” said Agwe standing beside me and pointing to the sky.
“What?”
“See that cloud?”
I took a quick look at the large fluffy white cloud he was pointing to in the distance.
“Mmhm,” I mumbled and nodded.
“It’s yours Joey. You don’t have to buy it, work for it. That is your cloud to enjoy. Let us enjoy it together.”
What the hell? Agwe stood next to me, smiling at the sky. I continued looking as it seemed like the polite thing to do, and he had been very kind to us. We stood there quietly, our attention upward.
“It is brilliant, Joey. We take it all for granted. Imagine if you lived your whole life in a box. Ten years old you step out of that box for the first time. Would you be able to stand it? Would you collapse at the sight of that cloud and the unending blue behind it?”
“Yes, I think I would.” I liked Agwe immediately.
“Yes, come, let us eat,” he said.
“Did you catch any fish?” I asked.
“No,” said Agwe. We were not fishing. We were diving for conch. The sea was kind to us. We will have conch and eggs for breakfast.”
“Check it out, Joey,” said Forest. I walked with him to the old boat. He pointed at five large shells, the kind you would see in a souvenir shop. It was the kind people said you could hold up to your ear and hear the ocean.
“You eat these? How?” I asked. Forest shrugged.
“Agwe said they’re awesome.”
“Is he a little crazy?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” said Forest. “Maybe. But if he is, it’s the good kind of crazy. Not the kind you have to watch out for.”
“Cool.”
Back at the house I noticed there were a lot more chickens. They must have been hiding before. At least ten swarmed around Agwe along with a small black and white dog that looked old, and kind of like Agwe.
“He doesn’t chase the chickens?” I asked.
“Oh no,” said Agwe reaching down to pat the dog’s stomach. “He protects them. This is Chico. He welcomes you.”
Suddenly I flashed back to the bloody face. The sting from the blade entering my side, the sights, the sounds. I tried to block it out of my mind. I had only been awake for an hour, but the thought of being caught by the local police force was the monkey already on my back. I walked around the side of the house to get a glimpse of the road. It wasn’t much of one. There were weeds four feet high in the middle, and even from a distance I could see huge potholes.
“You don’t have a car?” I asked.
“Oh no. I enjoy walking to town. I do have an old bike, but it is broken. The fastest way is to take the rowboat around the eastern shore to the marina at Queens Bluff.”
We got lucky. We were in a good spot, like a hideout. But I was worried about being blocked in with only one road in and one road out. If the law did come down that road, we would hear them, no doubt about that. It was deathly quiet out there. There were only the sounds of animals, birds, the wind, and waves. Nothing else, nothing. I looked around and eyed the two trails. If we did hear a car, we could hit the trail to the rocks. There would be a million places to hide there.
The Less Fortunates Page 14
