Balefire

by Barrett

  IT DIDN’T TAKE long for Kirin to snap back into her travel mode. She glanced over her shoulder at the soft-spoken stranger with the dazzling green eyes and pleasant manner. Interesting. When they called for coach boarding, she managed to be first in line and found room in the overhead compartment for her carry-on. Her window seat was on the narrow side of the 738. She pulled out her laptop and started reading some of the research she had downloaded when Esther, her editor, gave her the assignment.

  After a few minutes, her mind wandered back to the stranger. Interesting to find another Wisconsinite going to Belize. I should have asked where she’s staying. Might be worth an interview—a local angle. I’ll ask if I see her again.

  She looked up from her research as the flight attendant squeezed another bag into the overhead compartment. The attendant stepped back, revealing the woman she had met inside.

  Kirin listened as the woman and the flight attendant chatted about the seat belt and safety provisions. The woman was much taller with broad shoulders and narrow hips than she had seemed when they were sitting down. Her reddish-blond hair hung just past her shoulders and framed a strong freckled face with those dazzling green eyes.

  The woman looked at Kirin and smiled. The attendant helped her with a seat belt just as the captain began to announce their departure.

  “I guess we meet again.” Kirin closed up her laptop and tossed a look out the window.

  “So it seems.” The woman offered an enigmatic smile and leaned back on the headrest.

  The speaker microphone clicked. “We’re ready for departure. Please be sure all your personal belongings are safely stowed under the seat or in the overhead compartment.”

  Kirin pulled out her cell phone one more time and texted Melissa about the departure and turned it off. She glanced at her seatmate who was unrolling ear buds for her iPod. Hmm. Probably just as well. A nap would be far more beneficial than small talk. Her anger about the new assignment had prevented a good night’s sleep and as the adrenaline level dropped, the fatigue crept in. She glanced at her lovely seatmate. Maybe the assignment wouldn’t be so bad after all.

  Some turbulence woke Kirin for a second time. She passed on the in-flight snack as the fatigue from two weeks of hard work took over. Esther had been ruthless in her editorial comments. Because it had made the publisher angry, Kirin wondered if her paycheck would be late. As much as she revered her publisher and mentor, Nathan Silver, he could be a portentous porcupine that pricked her and everyone around her. Then she’d remind herself of the benefits of a regular paycheck and free travel to interesting and exotic places. Her interior walls were long and steeled from years of unexpressed frustration.

  Outside the window, large banks of foreboding clouds loomed overhead and rain streamed horizontally across the window. That would explain the turbulence.

  Her watch said two forty-five, which meant they’d been in the air for over two hours. Wow, I must have been tired. She guessed by the rhythmic foot bouncing that her seatmate was listening to music. “Did I miss anything?”

  The woman turned, smiled, and removed one ear bud. “Pardon me?”

  “I just wondered if I missed any news while I enjoyed my coma.”

  The woman rolled her shoulders and stretched a little. “Well, you did miss a fabulous three course luncheon complete with champagne. We also watched a hysterically funny film and a couple of jugglers.”

  “Gosh, why didn’t you wake me?”

  “I tried several times and so did the flight attendant, but we were forced to concede that you must be dead.” Her green eyes twinkled.

  Kirin liked the ribbing. “Oh, I see. You’re just going to continue to abuse this poor overworked writer for your own enjoyment. My name is Kirin Foster, by the way.” She offered her hand.

  The woman chuckled. “I’m sorry. I must be a little bored. I’m Silke Dyson.” She warmly clasped Kirin’s hand.

  “That’s a lovely name. Silky, just like the fabric?”

  “It’s spelled with an E but pronounced like a Y. My mom named me after her classics professor. And your first name, how do you spell that?”

  “Just like Karen—only with two i’s.” Kirin stared at Silke’s fun-loving smile. “Sounds sort of Swedish. I guess we’re a couple of odd-named ducks. Did you get a lot of heat in school for having the name?”

  Silke adjusted herself in her seat as a passenger moved by. “Sure, but as one of those artsy-fartsy kids who didn’t care too much, it didn’t cause any permanent damage.” She folded up her iPod cord and stuck it in the pocket of her vest. “I’m going to ask for some water. Do you want anything?” She pushed the button.

  Kirin noticed the veins in her muscled hands. “Good idea, I’m parched. In fact, I’d like a Coke or Pepsi if they have it.”

  The attendant brought their beverages.

  “Do you have any idea if this rain extends into Belize?” Kirin asked.

  The attendant poured the drinks over ice. “I’ll check with the cockpit, but I heard the co-pilot mention something about threatening weather.”

  Kirin stuck the water bottle in her bag for later and swallowed some Coke. “Rain is definitely something that could dampen my review of a tropical island. It’s really hard to see a place in a positive light when everybody’s hunkered down indoors and grousing about the weather.” She felt her edginess creeping back at just the thought of bad weather.

  Silke nodded. “I can understand that, although it makes very little difference to me. I’ve been down here in so many different kinds of weather that I appreciate them all.”

  “I meant to ask you earlier where you were staying.” Kirin turned her attention away from the stormy weather outside.

  “In San Pedro, right on Ambergris Caye. It’s a narrow strip of land that runs all the way up to Mexico. San Pedro is really the only town and it’s tiny, and quaint, with streets of sand. It’s only about a mile long and four blocks wide, so it’s easy to navigate. The vacation resort is located just a few miles north of San Pedro. So the best way to get to and from town is by boat because the one road that goes north and south can be impassable if it’s rainy.”

  “So, what’s there to do at the resort? Or do you come back to town for entertainment?”

  Silke smiled. “Most of the activity on the cayes is connected to scuba diving, snorkeling, or fishing. There’s not much in the way of nightlife. I’m content to hang around the resort with my friends and swim or listen to books on tape. Activities are planned every day so it’s never boring and you can always take the boat into town or, weather permitting, rent a golf cart . . .”

  The plane pitched forward.

  The speaker crackled a few times. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain. There’s a large storm moving inland, and we are going to change altitude to try to get above it. I don’t expect this to last more than another ten minutes or so, but please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts.”

  “Well, I guess that’s the answer to my weather question,” Kirin said as the plane rocked to the left, and the flight attendants hustled through picking up beverage glasses. She passed the empty can over and noticed Silke’s pale face. “Are you okay?”

  “I wished I hadn’t left my Dramamine in my suitcase. I normally don’t have trouble but I probably would’ve taken one if I’d known about the storm.”

  Kirin stared in amazement out the small window as the next ten minutes blurred by. The gigantic aluminum tube containing almost two hundred people bounced around like a toy boat in a bathtub with a hyperactive five year old.

  No one talked.

  Up and down like a bobble-head doll, Kirin tried to look around but could only see the bulkhead wall, the people across the aisle, and her seatmate who clutched the armrests with fisted white knuckles. The rain deluged the window like a fire hose. It grew dark, very dark. The plane seemed to be descending but without landmarks.

  When someone behind them retched, Kirin took a deep breath. Once that started, o
thers were sure to follow. Not normally prone to nausea and motion sickness, she now wished she hadn’t consumed the can of Coke that sloshed around in her stomach.

  “I don’t feel well,” Silke whispered. “Could you find one of those bags for me?”

  Kirin rifled through the magazine rack in front of her until she found one stuck in the pages of the airline magazine. She almost handed it to Silke, then opened it first. She didn’t know what else to do.

  Silke’s fair complexion had faded to a grayish green, and she was perspiring. The plane dropped again. Kirin suspected that everyone felt the same lurching sensation that left her stomach wedged beneath her ribs.

  Silke grabbed her hand. A sudden and unexpected comfort. A reassuring connection.

  Kirin looked out the window and saw shapes zooming past them, identifiable shapes—trees or buildings. Suddenly, the plane nosed upward again.

  The captain tried to allay the palpable anxiety. “Ladies and gentlemen, we were unable to land on our first pass because of poor visibility. We’ll circle around and try a second time. If that doesn’t work we’ll need to fly to Cancun to refuel.”

  Silke moaned, kept her eyes closed, and tightened her grip on Kirin’s hand.

  It took several minutes to circle around but this time, as they descended, Kirin could actually see a small wooden building on the left side. Unfortunately, they were still too high and the captain pulled up through the blowing rain as the plane shuddered.

  Kirin wasn’t the religious type, but she found herself squeezing a stranger’s hand and saying a silent prayer for everyone on the plane. Might as well. As they descended a third time, the plane vibrated wildly with the turbulence. She wanted to close her eyes but couldn’t resist peering through one eye as the plane leveled off, and she felt the wheels strike the ground hard. They weren’t out of danger yet.

  Now the plane needs to stop.

  The seconds ticked by, and she felt the plane losing momentum. Silke softened her grip and then re-gripped harder as the plane pitched several more times. Finally, the plane evened up and slowed. The passengers let out a cheer and applause that soared above the sound of the pelting rain.

  Chapter Three

  AS THE PASSENGERS cheered, Silke slowly opened her eyes. To keep the nausea at bay, she swallowed several times. A trickle of perspiration spiraled delicately down her neck and disappeared between her breasts. She gulped a couple of deep breaths as her heart continued to pound. Embarrassed, she realized how tightly she was holding on to Kirin’s hand.

  “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t trying to injure you with my Vulcan death grip.” Silke released Kirin’s hand and used her sleeve to wipe her forehead. “I don’t usually react that way to turbulence, but this time it scared me.”

  “I don’t blame you a bit. I don’t usually pray but I made an exception for this landing.” Kirin shook her fingers out. “You do have a strong grip.”

  Camaraderie enveloped the passengers as the plane taxied up to the ramshackle buildings known as the Phillip Goldson International Airport, right outside Belize City.

  “Would you mind telling me where we are?” Silke asked.

  Kirin watched out the window. “It’s still raining hard—”

  Silke smiled. “I can hear that.”

  “Oh, sorry. And there is a handful ground crew beginning to unload luggage. Two of them are pushing some rolling stairs toward the front door. Wow, there are even airline employees holding umbrellas for the passengers.”

  A few minutes later, Silke walked out of the plane into the humid, fragrant air of the jungle. This was why she had made this trip to Belize for eight years. This was her defining moment. Out of the States and into the jungle was an immediate body shift. Less the arrival of the turbulent plane, her body would soon experience a kind of release only Belize could provide.

  Silke hung back to avoid being trampled but lost sight of Kirin. An elderly woman bumped into her while trying to get ahead in the line and didn’t bother to apologize. Routine. It always seemed curious to her that people on vacation were in such a hurry to relax.

  The pace of life slowed dramatically in the smaller countries, and as soon as they arrived, tourists thought everything would go at their normal neurotic pace. Three lines were queued to go through customs. She joined the long wait as the luggage lumbered along the conveyor belt to eager hands. Luggage in hand they all moved like cattle toward the two uniformed men who waited to review the declaration sheets and check luggage, if necessary.

  By the time Silke located her red suitcase by the bright chartreuse scarf tied to it and cleared customs, most of the passengers were in the main area of the terminal—a long narrow room with ticket counters on one side and a few gift shops on the other. As she entered, the excited buzzing of the travelers and their nebulous nuances became louder and angrier. The air crackled with uncertain tension.

  An angry mob crowded around the ticket counter. Silke edged closer to try to hear. Only two local airlines provided transportation to other parts of the country and to the offshore islands and it wasn’t good news.

  “There are no more flights today because all of the planes are stranded in San Pedro,” a local Belizean employee explained. “The storm flooded the San Pedro airport. No, there are no boats because of the high seas.”

  Well, well. Stranded? She tapped her cane and waited.

  Just then a uniformed man walked past Silke, and she touched his arm. “Excuse me. I just arrived and I don’t know what’s happening but it seems like there’s no transportation from the airport.”

  The man stopped. “There is a hurricane off shore that shifted and is moving north from Guatemala and the outer bands of wind and rain have already hit the islands. Most people are taking cabs into Belize City or trying to find hotels farther inland.” He leaned closer. “The planes will probably go out sometime tomorrow. So, if you don’t need fancy, there’s a small hotel near the airport called the International. A cab driver will know where it is.”

  Silke smiled at the man. “Thank you very much. I appreciate your suggestion.”

  She wrestled her suitcase around and tried to move back through the pressing crowd to get to the front of the airport. The crush of hot, sweaty bodies around her made her claustrophobic, short of breath, and queasy. She managed to see over their heads but the people beside her were shoving as they tried to reach the ticket counter.

  Somewhere ahead she heard the familiar sound of Kirin’s terse and agitated voice. As she got closer, she could hear her words.

  “Esther, I tried that, the hotel isn’t answering the phone. I don’t know. You sent me to this godforsaken place and now I can’t get out of the damn airport. No, I didn’t try that . . . Look, I’m not familiar with the area, and I have no idea where Belize City is from the airport. See what you can do and call me back.” She hung up. “Dammit to hell.”

  Silke raised her cane slightly. “Kirin, over here.” She pushed her way closer. “This is awful. Are you waiting for someone, or could you help me get outside?”

  A man with a luggage wagon smacked into Silke and shot her like a flailing rocket right into Kirin’s arms.

  “Hey, watch it, fella. Come on. Let’s go outside,” Kirin yelled over the din and maneuvered between pushing passengers and over-loaded luggage carriers. “This must be what spawning salmon feel like.”

  “I think you’re right.” Silke followed close behind, focusing on the royal blue shirt in front of her. Once outside, she sagged against a support beam. The thick, humid air blanketed her.

  “I’ll take this humidity over that nonsense in there,” Kirin said and chuckled.

  “Thank you. I’m not sure I could’ve gotten out of there by myself. The storm has certainly created a lot of cranky, panicky people.” Silke felt the water seeping into her shoes. “Wonderful.”

  Kirin checked her cell phone one more time then shoved it in her pocket. “This totally sucks. My hotel isn’t answering their phone and my editor thinks the s
torm may have caused a power outage. She said the eye of the storm is still pretty far southeast and it could head inland or continue north. Crap. What are you going to do?”

  Silke looked up at Kirin. Although Kirin was only a couple of inches taller, she puffed up considerably when she got agitated. It was mildly amusing how well it worked. Probably scary if this was her normal behavior. Still, when her dark eyes flashed, they accentuated her dark hair and full lips.

  “A man inside suggested a small hotel near the airport because he thought the planes would resume flights tomorrow. I planned to get a cab and head over. Would you like to go with me?”

  Kirin looked around. “May as well. I certainly don’t want to stay here, and I have no idea where I am, so if you don’t mind . . .”

  “Since I’m going to a strange place, I’d actually feel more comfortable if I had someone with me. It’s sometimes really hard to navigate new surroundings when I’m tired.”