Isle of Man

by Ryan Winfield

  “You have to come back with us,” I say. “If you don’t, you’ll be responsible for killing many more people out there. In the world.”

  “That’s not fair!”

  He stops pacing and faces me.

  “It might not be fair, but it’s the truth,” I say, locking eyes with him and holding his stare. In my peripheral vision, I notice Jimmy shifting uncomfortably in his chair. After a long silence, in which Finn seems torn, I ask: “Are you afraid?”

  “I’m not afraid of anything,” he says.

  “Are you sure? Six hundred years and you’ve never even left the island. I had already been on adventures far from my home, and I was afraid to leave and set out for here.”

  “I said I’m not afraid.”

  “So you just plan to take the encryption key to your grave, whenever that is? Locked forever in your hand. Think about how many people you’ll be responsible for killing, Finn. The number makes that skull rack down there seem like nothing.”

  Finn’s face flushes red, his lips twitch. He looks like he’s about to say something, but instead he storms to the door and jerks it open. He stops and looks back, his blue eyes burning. “You’ll have my answer in the morning, before you leave.”

  The door slams behind him.

  I ease back onto the bed.

  “That could have gone better.”

  “He’ll do what’s right,” Jimmy says.

  “You think so?”

  “Yeah.”

  I turn my head and look at Jimmy, slouched in his chair, a bloody bandage on his ankle.

  “Did it hurt?”

  “What?” he asks.

  “The bite,” I say.

  “Nah. It jus’ caught me with a little tooth while I’s kickin’. I never even felt it at the time.”

  “What I wanna know is how you knocked on the sub loud enough for the professor to hear without any stones.”

  “Submarine,” he corrects, with a sly smile. “I dove and got one off the bottom and used it to pound on the side.”

  “Pretty deep, though,” I say.

  “I’ve dove deeper.”

  “But the sharks?”

  “I jus’ ignored ’em.”

  “Jimmy, I don’t know how to thank you.”

  “Thank me? You’s the one saved my life.”

  I take a deep breath.

  “If I told myself the truth, I think I’d have traded places with you as soon as they put that helmet on my head. I was scared, Jimmy. Really scared.”

  “You was brave,” he says. “Besides, it was my fault. My ego was wrapped up in winnin’ those games. I shoulda listened to ya. I shoulda kept focused on findin’ that encryption key.”

  “Does this mean you’re coming back with me?”

  Jimmy smiles, his eyes welling up.

  “If you still want me.”

  “Will you take the serum?”

  “Does it really mean that much to you?” he asks.

  “Yes,” I say, my eyes welling up now too. “It does.”

  “Then I’ll take it.”

  We look at one another for a solid minute or two, not even bothering to dry our eyes. Finally, I break the emotional silence: “Well, let’s quit blubbering like a couple of babies and go roust up some food. Help me get up, will you? Maybe old Riley down there can whip us together some shark-fin soup.”

  The next morning, Finn is nowhere to be found.

  Most of the guests who came for the games have stuck around, quietly gathering in groups on the terraces, as if they’re not quite ready yet to let yesterday’s excitement go. Some sit and repeat quiet prayers, others kneel, facing the Park Service crest on the submarine’s sail, bowing their foreheads to touch the grass. The workmen disassemble the crane, apparently on Finn’s orders, and light a bonfire from its timbers. Jimmy and I sit together on the castle steps, with Junior lying at our feet, and watch the black smoke rising into the gray, morning sky.

  I haven’t been on the submarine yet, but Jimmy’s been back and forth a few times, testing out a raft that Finn had his workers make to float us past the sharks. Jimmy ran a line from the raft to the submarine’s deck so we can pull ourselves out. Of course, the professor hasn’t shown his face yet, still recoiling from the light, and, I suspect, more than just a little fearful of the islanders, who Jimmy said he referred to several times as savages.

  The door behind us opens, and we both turn, hoping to see Finn. Instead, Bree steps out and sits between us on the steps, offering us a swig from her canteen of spiked tea. In a way, we both owe our lives to her: Jimmy for her teaching me a crash course in handball, me for her chasing down Jimmy and telling him what they were doing to me after I’d beaten him.

  “I want to thank you two,” she says.

  “What for?” I ask.

  “Giving me my life back. All I ever dreamed about before was winning the games to honor my family, so I never planned a life for myself. But now that Finn says they’re over, I’ve got many years ahead to think about. It’s like being reborn.”

  I hand her my reading slate that I had Jimmy retrieve from the submarine.

  “Here’s something to keep you busy then.”

  “What’s this?” she asks, looking it over.

  “A gift,” I say. “It’s got about five hundred books in it. Let me show you. This button turns it on. Here’s the library. Look. And the professor says the battery should be good for about five years. I thought maybe you could copy your favorites down on paper in that time, so they’ll never be lost.”

  Bree throws her arms around my neck.

  “You’re the best,” she says. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Then she turns and hugs Jimmy. “And you too, Jimmy. I’m gonna miss you.”

  None of us knows what else to say, so Bree sits between us, exploring her new electronic library while Jimmy and I watch as the strange scene plays out in front of the castle. Groups of people sitting on the lawns softly chanting and bowing toward the submarine. The workers standing around the burning crane, spitting their chew juice into the flames. The raft rocking in the waves, tied off to the seawall with a line.

  After what seems like an eternity, the door opens again. But again, it’s not Finn. Instead, Riley stands in the doorway and shakes his head. I stand and face him.

  “He’s not coming?”

  “I’m afraid not, sir,” he replies. “But he wanted me to wish you safe travels. And to give you this.”

  Riley holds out the David’s broken hand.

  “But that’s not—”

  “I think you’ll find it’s what you need,” Riley cuts me off.

  I take it from his hands. It’s much lighter than I remember it being, and it’s not cold like marble should be. Jimmy steps up beside me and looks at it.

  “Thought ya said that wasn’t it?”

  “Let’s just go,” I say.

  “Ya sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  Before we go, Riley reaches into his pocket and presents Jimmy the championship game ball.

  “Lord Finn wanted you to have this, sir.” Then he bows and retreats back into the castle.

  Jimmy slips the ball into his pocket, and we all walk down to the seawall steps with Junior following behind us. Jimmy steadies the raft as I step aboard. Then he turns and hugs Bree. When they part, he unties the shoreline and steps onto the raft.

  “Come on, Junior,” he calls. Junior stays put, sitting on the seawall steps. “Come on, boy. Hop aboard.” Junior whimpers, turning his head to look back at the castle. Jimmy turns to me and frowns. “I think he wants to stay.”

  “Maybe he’ll be happier here,” I say.

  Jimmy looks out toward the submarine, then back to the castle. When his eyes settle on Junior again, he looks sad.

  “Come on, boy. Hop on.”

  Junior whimpers again but doesn’t move.

  Jimmy steps off the raft and scoops Junior up and hugs him. Junior licks his face, his front paws hanging over Jimmy’s shou
lders, his rear legs hanging like a doll from Jimmy’s arms.

  “I’ll keep an eye on him for you,” Bree says.

  After their long embrace, Jimmy sets Junior down again, steps onto the raft, and picks up the waterside line and pulls us toward the submarine. He doesn’t look back. But I do.

  Bree stands on the seawall steps watching us go. Junior sits at her feet watching, too. I think he might jump in and swim after us, but he doesn’t. As they shrink into the distance, Junior yips twice, as if saying goodbye. Bree reaches down to pet him. I look at Jimmy and see that his eyes are wet. Or maybe it’s just the cold wind coming off the water. But I doubt it.

  We climb aboard the submarine and set the raft adrift.

  “No turning back now, I guess.”

  “No,” Jimmy mumbles. “No turnin’ back.”

  Jimmy pauses at the hatch, as if he might look back, but he takes a deep breath and descends into the submarine without once turning around. I pause for one last look. The fire burns. The people mingle on the lawns, watching. Bree sits now on the steps, her arm around Junior, sitting next to her. Then I see Finn step from the castle door into the morning light. We stand looking at one another across the water. His tunic parts as he lifts his arm to wave goodbye, and even from this distance I can see the bloody, bandaged stump where his hand had been.

  I hold his plaster-encased hand up for him to see, cradled in my palms with care, a small sign of our thanks for what he’s parted with, then I carry it with me down into the submarine.

  CHAPTER 23

  What Have You Done?

  “The fools went willingly to the sharks?”

  “To appease their gods and protect the island,” I answer.

  “Nothing surprises me about people,” the professor says, shaking his head. “I’ve been on this crazy Earth too long.”

  “I’m just glad you heard Jimmy’s signal and surfaced.”

  “Yes,” he replies. “As luck would have it, I had just woken from a dead sleep.”

  “You really had no idea that Radcliffe had a son?”

  The professor shakes his head.

  “Of course, I didn’t. But he always was a secretive man. I’m not surprised.”

  When we leave the Irish Sea and are once again in the deep Atlantic, the professor brings us down to a comfortable depth and sets our course for home. After our week on the island, I feel cramped and claustrophobic on the submarine. I wander around, looking for something to distract me, since I no longer have my reading slate. I open the submarine’s specimen freezer and look at the hand, both fascinated and sickened by what’s inside the plaster mold. I can’t imagine hacking off my own hand. But I’m grateful for Finn’s sacrifice.

  “Hungry?” Jimmy asks, appearing in the doorway.

  I shut the freezer.

  “Sure. Let’s see what odd mix of spices you’ve cooked up this time?”

  A strange depression settles over our journey. All three of us make half-hearted attempts at conversation with each other, but nothing seems to stick. The professor focusses on getting us home, constantly monitoring our speed and depth, taking short naps at the controls but never really sleeping. Without Junior around to keep him company, Jimmy spends hours in his bunk bouncing the ball that Finn gave him against the wall. I know he already misses the island and the excitement of the games. And Bree, too. Although, I’m sure he misses Junior the most. I begin to feel bad for having pressured him to come back with me. And I have plenty of time to feel bad because the painful scabs on my chest keep me awake at night.

  In the middle of the second night, I stretch the wrong way in my bunk, and the scabs crack and ooze blood. I get up and take a warm shower to loosen them. It helps, although I have to grit my teeth to suffer the stinging pain. After my shower, I stand in front of the tiny bathroom mirror and look at my chest and the permanent reminder of how close I came to death. Not to mention a symbol of how I’m connected to this mess.

  I remember when I first met Jimmy’s family, that night around their campfire when he convinced them to take me in. He told me about the Park Service for the first time that night. And I remember when I asked him who the Park Service was, he said that they were me because their crest was on my zipsuit. And now I’ve got that same emblem carved on my chest.

  The afternoon of our third day at sea, I ask the professor to surface so I can go topside and breathe some fresh air.

  “Better to stay submerged,” he says.

  “Come on,” I beg. “Please. Just for a couple of hours.”

  He shakes his head.

  “I said no.”

  I’m not happy with his answer, so I enlist Jimmy’s help to persuade him. We sit in the control room, throwing Jimmy’s ball back and forth over the professor’s head, while loudly talking about how great it would be to go outside. He finally relents and blows the water from the ballasts, bringing us up. We open the hatch and climb out into the fresh air and blue sky of late afternoon.

  “This is more like it,” I say.

  We sit across from one another on the deck and bounce the ball back and forth, playing catch. A cool breeze tickles my hair; the sun warms my cheeks. A long time passes without a word between us, just the sound of the bouncing ball and the water sliding by. As the sun drops toward the horizon, it looks like an orange halo around Jimmy’s head.

  “I can hardly see the ball with that sun in my eyes.”

  “Here we jus’ started playin’,” Jimmy says, “and yer makin’ excuses already.”

  “Very funny,” I say. “How’s your leg?”

  He looks at the bandage on his ankle.

  “Gettin’ better.”

  “Not the shark bite,” I correct. “I meant your scar there on your thigh. Where I hit you with the ball.”

  “It’s all right,” he says. “It still aches a little.”

  “I’m really sorry.”

  “Sorry? Ya done it to save my life. And I’m glad for it, too. But jus’ so ya know, you never coulda beat me playin’ fair.”

  “Oh, you don’t think so?”

  “I know so,” he says, laughing. “Plus, you was fresh.”

  “If you say so,” I laugh. A few bounces later, I add: “Maybe we can build a court when we get back and have a little re-match.”

  “Maybe we will,” Jimmy says, bouncing the ball back.

  The sun finally gives up the sky and drops into the ocean. Jimmy sits silhouetted against it, reminding me of the first time I saw him crouched on that coral rock. We’ve been through a lot together. More than a lot. We’ve seen our parents die. We’ve nearly died ourselves. We’ve burned Eden, overthrown Dr. Radcliffe, and travelled across the sea to solve a mystery. All we have left to do now is get back and stop the drones and free my people. Then it’s nothing but peaceful days ahead.

  Jimmy must be thinking the same thing, because he asks: “What are ya gonna do when we get back?”

  “Get that encryption key and stop the drones.”

  “I meant after that,” he says.

  “Well, I haven’t thought about it much, really. I guess once my people are free, they can figure out what to do.”

  “But are you gonna stay on, at the lake or wherever?”

  “What are you going to do?” I ask, answering his question with a question.

  “I’d like to go find somewhere peaceful in the woods,” he says. “Some place quiet to make a home, ya know? There’s lots of land out there, and a man could make an easy livin’ if there ain’t no drones to worry about no more.”

  “That sounds nice.”

  “Yeah,” he says. “I jus’ wish I had Junior to share it with. But I think he finally found his home on the island.”

  “He sure did think he was a deerhound, didn’t he?”

  Jimmy laughs.

  “It was somethin’, him keepin’ up with ’em on that hunt. I ain’t too manly to say I miss him already. It was nice always havin’ him around for company.”

  “Maybe I’ll com
e keep you company instead?”

  “Come where?” he asks.

  “Your home in the woods,” I say. “If I’m invited—?”

  “What about Hannah?”

  “I don’t know,” I sigh, bouncing the ball back. “I’ve sure got some things to sort out with her.”

  “Maybe cut her a slack,” he suggests.

  “Yeah, maybe. As long as she has that serum for you.”

  Jimmy nods, but doesn’t say anything. We bounce the ball for a while without talking. The last crescent of orange sun slips beneath the waves, and the cloudless western sky holds little of its light. Jimmy and the ball fade to just shadows.

  “We better quit before your ball goes overboard.”

  “Okay,” Jimmy says. “but let’s not go in jus’ yet. It’s nice out here. I feel good for the first time in a long time.”

  “Me too,” I say. “I feel happy.”

  We lie on our backs and watch the stars appear as the sky fades from blue toward black. I guess they’re always there, the stars, burning in timeless space. It’s just that you can’t see them when something brighter gets in the way. It’s peaceful lying next to Jimmy—the smell of cool saltwater air, the splash of the submarine cutting through the gentle waves. I think about how lucky I am to have met Jimmy and to have him as my friend. I’ll never know how, of all the places in this world I might have ended up, I ended up with him. It reminds me of something the professor said about a cosmic destiny playing out again and again. If that means I get to lie here like this for all time, looking up at the stars with my best friend, then count me in. Then. Now. Forever.

  A burst of white light flashes in the sky.

  Light so bright that I shut my eyes to protect them and can see the red blood vessels in my eyelids.

  When the initial flash fades, we both bolt upright and look toward the northeast, where a fireball glows on the horizon. I’d almost think it was the sunrise if the sun hadn’t just set in the west. The fireball slowly burns out, as if being extinguished by the waves, but the eastern sky glows with an aurora of orange light that spreads its wavering fingers like an electric dome over the dark ocean behind us.

  “It’s beautiful,” Jimmy says. “What is it?”