by Marx, J. A.
“Whoa-ohh yeah.” Isaac gaped at the showpiece. “She’s absolutely incredible.”
Pomegranate, papaya, star fruit, and pineapples, all carved into floral shapes, harmonized on a platter to form a bouquet. Spider lilies and curious red objects the size and shape of eggs with soft red spikes embellished the feast.
Fresh flowers decorated the place settings, featuring a hibiscus blossom at the center of each plate. Even the napkins had adopted flowery identities. The masterpiece deserved ad space in a gourmet food magazine.
A second later, Chiara entered the bungalow.
Jase wiped the drool off his lip. “Where ya been?”
Eyes smiling, she held up a black book. “I read Song of Solomon expecting to find music. Do you know about the weird stuff in this book?”
Not a breakfast topic. Jase gestured at the table. “This rocks. How long did it take to make?”
She shrugged. “I learned it from one of Max’s sex goddesses. I guess you’re hungry.”
She took her smart pill this morning. While GI Jane carried over a tray with toast, jam, and fried plantain, Jase poked at the curious red-egg thing.
Isaac, his gaze strapped to the bouquet, circled the table. “This is too beautiful. I can’t eat it.”
Jase snickered at the likelihood. “I’ll eat your share.”
“Not yet you won’t.” Chiara pointed at Isaac, Sabio, and Akiko. “Do you see me without a shirt on?”
Busted. Shorts alone apparently defied her preferred breakfast apparel.
She winked. “Fabulous pecs, by the way, Wild Man.”
Hello trouble. Jase tweaked his best friend’s pectoral perfection.
Grinning in glory over his finely chiseled physique, Isaac strutted to the bunkroom. He slipped on a revealing tank top and smelled his pits before saturating the arm hem with deodorant. Properly attired, he led his friends back to the kitchen.
“Sit at your own risk.” Chiara stuck a hibiscus blossom in her hair as they found their seats. “So, anyway, most of Song of Solomon was filled with interesting descriptions of body parts.”
Admiring Princess Jane, Isaac forked papaya off the bouquet and took a bite.
“And it’s inconsistent.” Her voice sweetened every bite. “Beloved says she loves him, but Lover is busy browsing among the lilies.”
Browsing is good. Isaac held up a red, spiny egg-thing. “What’s this?”
“A rambutan.” She shook the book at them. “You never told me there was anything about kissing or breasts in the Bible. Leapin’ lobsters! It’s right in the middle of the book.”
Hmm? Tasting the rambutan, he leaned toward Jase and whispered, “Did she just say ‘breasts’?”
The musician elbowed him.
Sabio cleared his throat, as if warning someone. “Sounds like you harvested every detail out of Songs. Let’s analyze it after breakfast. Better yet, let’s start at the beginning of the book and discuss man’s origin.”
“Could we?” Chiara passed the toast. “Master Azikiwe told me I descended from a tapeworm. I’ve always resented that.”
“Good toast.” Isaac leaned left and whispered at Sabio, “Notice her plump lips?”
The scholar stomped on Isaac’s toe while nodding at Chiara. “You’re on my datebook.”
Stomping back, Isaac bristled. “A date?” He shoved a large pineapple chunk in his mouth, glaring at the Hispanic supermodel.
Chiara forked a plantain onto her plate. “You’ve made my morning.”
Sabio made her morning? Juice squirted through Isaac’s teeth, and he flicked the dribble off his chin at the scholar. “What date? You’re engaged.”
Jase pinched Isaac’s ear, pulled him close, and whispered, “Did you hear about her secret dates with Miguel?”
The metal fork in Isaac’s hand bent. He re-straightened it, using his leg.
“Speaking of engaged.” Chiara propped her elbows on the table. “I’ve heard about Kiko’s fragile Crystal and Jase’s potential mate, Jennifer. But the lifeguard has yet to tell me about the females in his kingdom. Enlighten me, Wild Man.”
She rested her chin between her palms. The fingers cradling her olive cheeks highlighted her chocolate eyes. Her lips curled like scarlet ribbon, and he couldn’t help dreaming.
“Earth to Isaac.” Jase bumped his foot.
Inhaling a chunk of fruit, Isaac coughed it up. He spit the chunk into his hand only to notice the perspiration blotting his muscle shirt. Molten heat wreathed his head and neck. “Let’s see … there’s Jasmine. We play at the park together.”
“Jasmine’s your dog.”
Isaac kneed the musician for the brainless comment. “We do stuff together. She is fun.”
Akiko drummed his fingers loudly on the table.
Stop it, Isaac warned with his eyes. “I like taking Emily to the mall for ice cream and just walking around. People-watching. You know.”
“Do you mean my sister Emily?” The Asian stretched out his fingers. “She’s ten.”
Juice from the slimy, coughed-up fruit chunk filled Isaac’s hand. “So? She’s a sister to me, too. And she is female, isn’t she?” Who is Miguel?
Folding her arms across her chest, Chiara tipped back in her chair, looking annoyed.
“Just say it, Ize,” Jase cried. “You don’t have a girl.”
Isaac dumped the fruit chunk onto Jase’s lap with rewarding results.
“Leapin’ lobsters!” The front legs of Chiara’s chair slammed the floor. “The courageous, respectable safetyman has no prospective partner? Liars.”
Spearing a star fruit slice, he shook it at her. “It’s true. So what? Why make a big deal?”
“Because you’re trying to hide it.” She smirked. “Are human females not good enough? Or are you afraid of them?”
The fruit fell off his utensil. “I’m not afraid. I just haven’t found one who’s my type.”
“What is your type?” Her impish gleam heckled him. “The prosaic homebody or the adventurous pirate?”
Re-stabbing the star fruit, he shook the fork warningly. “I prefer women who respect their friends. And who aren’t smart alecks.”
She gasped. “Was that endearing verbal projectile aimed at me?”
“We’re all born with rebellious spirits, but you”—Isaac flicked the star fruit, and it landed on her chest—“obviously received a double dose.”
She picked the slice off her shirt. “At least this rebel isn’t hiding anything.”
The fork bent in Isaac’s fingers again. “You wanna hear what I think? I—”
Jase’s heels dug his toes. Akiko signaled a ceasefire.
The rebel’s raised eyebrows dared him to bring it on.
Isaac unbent the utensil. “I think this conversation is over. And …” he added reluctantly, “I’m sorry I called you a rebellious smart aleck.” Though you are one.
“Whatever.” If she detected his infatuation, she didn’t show it or reciprocate.
They finished breakfast in peace then she started to clear the table.
Hopping up, Akiko shooed her hands. “We’ll take care of this. Don’t you and Sabio have a … date?”
Date schmate. Folding his arms, Isaac flexed his biceps, scowling behind his smile.
Sabio escorted Chiara toward the back porch. “Has anyone talked to you about pushing people’s buttons …?”
Ha. She was a button-pushing expert.
Akiko stacked the soiled plates and carried them into the kitchen. “Time to deflate, Ize.”
Jase filled the sink with soapy water. “I’ll do your dish chore. Go run.”
Isaac brought over the empty fruit platter and silverware. “Somebody needs to tell me who Miguel is. Now.”
Jase splashed him with a spoonful of suds. “Chiara was twelve. Miguel was fourteen. The bad guys wasted him for showing an interest in her ruby slippers. Now get outta here. Before somebody drops a house on you, too.”
“I need a partner.” Safety demanded a
companion. A good jog would declutter Isaac’s mind.
He’d also like to meet the infamous Lux—and shoot them.
After a lap around the Cay, Isaac and Akiko stopped at the boathouse. They readied the raft, the poles, and the tackle. Fresh fruit, despite its convenience, could only satisfy Isaac’s stomach to a degree. That plus the extra mouth to feed necessitated another fishing trip.
They returned to the bungalow. No GI Jane.
Isaac found Sabio journaling on the back porch. Next to him, Jase was recording JasTunes onto paper.
They’d better not have let her wander off alone. “Where’s Chiara?”
Sabio nodded toward the beach. “She can’t be caged.”
Isaac sympathized. Carrying the object he’d stumbled upon while out, he vaulted over the porch railing and skipped down the bank. He sneaked up on Chiara who was crouched, poking at hermit crabs.
He shoved her with his foot.
“Hey.” She caught herself with one hand and twisted around. “I thought you were running.”
“I thought you were studying.” He pulled her to her feet.
The way she wiped off her sandy hands on her shirt pleased him. Isaac had no patience for girls so obsessed with their appearance that they feared dirt.
“Sabio crammed me full of philosophy. I had to take a walk to digest it all. And …” She bit her lower lip. “I’m sorry I teased you at breakfast.”
I asked for it. “No big deal.” Before she could exhume the girlfriend topic, he handed her a white plastic travel mug with a blue lid. “Found this at the wreckage.”
“It’s Max’s.” The ship’s name written next to the nude showgirl had already given that much away. Chiara rubbed her thumb over the inscription. “Nave del Piacere.”
Sorrow wrinkled her expression, and Isaac embraced her in thought. If only he could hold her for real.
She opened the lid and turned the mug over. Coffee-colored droplets trickled out. “I’m not going to wake up some morning and find myself back on Hell Island, am I?” Her pensive stare snagged his soul. “Am I just dreaming that I’m here?”
He tweaked her arm. “You’re not dreaming.” Kissing her with his gaze, he hoped she sensed his affection. Should he tell her? “Chiara … Spencer …?”
“Charlie Brown?” Her rosy smile lifted him like a breeze, but she gave off no affectionate vibes.
Someday. “You want the mug?”
“You kidding?”
Inspiration stirred Isaac. “May I have it?”
Chapter 59
Gripping the raft’s rubber handles, Isaac shifted into lifeguard mode. The ocean swells scarcely reached three feet yet still had enough might to topple a careless passenger.
They reached their destination off the south shore, and Akiko cut the motor. Seabirds roosting on a floating heap several yards out fluttered up and start circling, squawking as if irked by the human invasion.
“Keep a low center of gravity.” Isaac straddled the tubular side, holding tight with his knees as the boat dipped and wobbled.
Shielding his eyes against the dazzling, clear sky, he marveled at the Cay’s emerald coastline. Ship debris littered the midmost section below Mt. Merhamet, the landmark of God’s grace. Isaac imagined Chiara drifting up to the beach on a plank barely her size. Unconscious for hours. Physically unanchored. She should’ve drowned.
She’s a miracle.
An eruption of squeals and clicking drew Isaac’s attention to the bow.
Three dolphins rolled over and sank out of sight.
He whipped around to check stern.
GI Jane swished her foot in the water. “Agent Chiara requesting permission to dive.”
Her respect warmed him more than the sun. “Better get in before they leave.”
“Yessss!” She flopped backward into the water.
Swimming right up to a dolphin, she rubbed its beak. It splashed. She laughed.
How does she do it? Isaac rose for a better view. “Hey!” Knocked overboard, he tensed against the cold shock. A shivering spell put a quiver in his laughter. “Who’s the jester?”
Sabio wagged a finger. “Keep a low center of gravity.”
Jase baited a hook. “We’ll catch dinner. You can’t miss this experience.”
A semi-private date. Isaac splashed his friends with gratitude.
Manhandled by the swift undercurrent, he tightened his lifejacket before swimming to the mermaid. He reached for a dolphin that seemed larger, more powerful up close. “Their tailfins are amazing.”
Half reclined, Chiara poked her toes out of the water. “They’re flukes.”
“Huh?”
“The tailfin is called a fluke.”
“Okay … their flukes are powerful.” Isaac stretched his arms across the water, and a gray mass brushed his fingers. Sleek. Graceful. A pleasure too deep for words.
“At meal time, they’ll swat dinner into the air to stun it.” Chiara flapped her feet. “When it lands back in the water, it’s easy pickins.”
Facing the raft, Isaac let his feet float at the surface as hers did. “Then I bet they’re good volleyball players.”
“Affirmative.” She patted the water with a flat hand.
A dolphin rose straight up. Chiara clapped, and the creature clapped its fins.
Isaac’s jaw dropped. “How’d you do that?”
“I befriended Beaker in Omeàla’s lagoon. See the spot on his beak?”
They’re her dolphins. He moved closer. Patting the water, he hoped a dolphin would respond.
Beaker sank his head. His bottom-half protruded into the air.
Isaac chuckled. “Is he waving at us?”
Chiara covered her face. “Look out.”
A wall of water hammered him. Feeling like the clown that got pied, Isaac cleared his throat.
Applause burst from the raft. Sabio waved an oar in the air. “Need a lifeguard?”
“Comedians!” Isaac scraped the wetness from his face.
Breathy giggles seeped through the mermaid’s hands cupping her mouth. She’d probably influenced Beaker’s ornery deed.
Rascal. He liked listening to her laugh. And talk. And breathe. His eyes wouldn’t let her go. “Your mother must’ve been a beautiful woman.”
“I never told you about my mother.”
The evidence spoke for itself. Isaac shielded his eyes so he wouldn’t have to squint. “Do you look like her?”
Chiara shrugged.
Of course you know. “Didn’t you look in a mirror or at pictures?”
“We had no camera. And mirrors don’t change anything.” Her coldness bordered on rude. “But, yeah. Mom was gorgeous, despite how those scum treated her. She had eyes as green as a forest.”
It was ugly … degrading. Isaac hadn’t forgotten her description of the forced labor aboard the Nave. He’d help alter Chiara’s self-image.
Disturbed by the wreckage on the distant shore, Chiara had needed a good laugh. Beaker’s trick certainly … rocked. She had so much Ohio vernacular to learn in so little time.
As if pleading guilty to drenching the safetyman, the dolphins sought asylum near the raft. Their departure somehow stimulated Isaac’s endless curiosity, this time concerning her mom.
“Was Jamila American?”
The answer laid low behind the sadness prowling Chiara’s heart. Riding out the momentary numbness, she critiqued Isaac’s honey-blond mane, dulled and flattened from dampness. She preferred it dry and shimmering with wildness.
The hair sparked a response. “Mother was Syrian. She had long, black hair down to her hips, which she usually put up in a bun.” Chiara longed to reclaim an outdated forbidden photo of her mother that she’d hidden under her dresser. “I’m afraid to forget what she looks like.”
Isaac’s finger stroked her arm, setting off shivers. “I’m sorry I brought it up.”
She hugged herself, rubbing the frosty feeling from her arms. “Why sorry? I need to remember her. I didn’t g
et to say good-bye.”
Heaviness cocooned Chiara as she waded through memories. If she spoke them out, maybe she wouldn’t keep aching.
“After the Lux’s ritual, Mom told me to meet her. The last thing she said was … ‘I love you.’ I thought she was reaching around to hug me. But she opened the gate.”
“Didn’t she tell you her plan?”
The aching let up, allowing Chiara to breath. “I saw the detonator. But Vétis’s drugged oils killed my ability to react, otherwise I …” Rehashing what could’ve been took too much energy. “Anyway, Mom hinted at her original intention to blow me up with everybody else. She said, ‘This way you’ll have a chance.’ And she pushed me away. Forever.”
Would I be free if I’d stopped her? How foolish to believe she had completely escaped the Lux. They were too big, too many. And were probably hunting for her. It was only a matter of time. Part of her wanted vengeance.
Reliving that night for the umpteenth time, Chiara wiped at her damp eyes. Her wet hands only added moisture. “Sorry.”
“Tears are normal. Expected.” His tenderness dispelled her embarrassment. “Did you know human lacrimal glands produce three types of tears?”
She had studied that but right now hadn’t the mental capacity to think back. Fiddling with her lifejacket zipper, she shook her head.
“The first two types cleanse our eyes from dust and other irritants. A third contains a chemical that actually makes us feel better emotionally.” Isaac gently tapped her cheek. “After we cry.”
She had never learned about the third type. “I’ve shed more of those this week than I have in the entire past nineteen years.”
Beaker’s clicking announced his return.
Gladly resigning as the center of their conversation, Chiara smiled for Isaac’s sake. “Do you want to ride?” She skipped the suggestion to remove his lifejacket and backed up to make room.
Obeying instructions, the safetyman waited with his hands out and ready.
Beaker was acting exceptionally friendly today.
“Wait for him to roll over next to you.” She had her aquatic friend well trained.
