Balefire

by Barrett

  Flora brought coffee.

  Silke ordered the Belizean breakfast with fry jacks. “I can’t believe how hungry I am. The snacks we had last night weren’t enough to meet the metabolic requirements for healing.” She gave Kirin an impish grin and giggled.

  “How is your knee today? From the way you were walking, it looks like it’s still sore. Maybe you should see about a regular cane or crutches.”

  “I’m not quite sure how I would manage two canes without looking like I was using a divining rod to find water.” Silke looked up and smiled. In spite of the discomfort, the twinkle had returned to her eyes. That made Kirin happy.

  “Just a thought.” Kirin pointed. “You did a good job with the bandage.”

  “Well, as I said, this isn’t my first rodeo. I’ve had to bandage more than one battle scar.”

  Kirin knew she was partially joking about her clumsiness but wondered if there actually were battle scars. She guessed the choking incident wasn’t her first injury. She swallowed her sadness about how this kind and gentle person could be a victim. A watery heat welled up in her eyes and she looked away, hoping Silke wouldn’t see. It was probably a good thing she was leaving the next day. There was nothing she could do—none of her business.

  She cleared her throat. “I reconfirmed my flight on the puddle jumper tomorrow morning. Diane suggested I be there a little early to be on the safe side.”

  Silke put her fork down but didn’t look up. “She’s right, you never know. This week sure has gone by quickly hasn’t it? I lose all track of time when I’m down here.” She looked around. “Have you seen Flora? I’d really like more coffee.”

  Kirin spotted Flora at her station and motioned her with a pouring gesture. “She’s coming. I know what you mean. I feel like I just arrived, but so much has happened.” She wiped the condensation off her water glass with her finger. “I hope we’ll be able to keep in touch. I’d like you to see the article . . . maybe you could write down your contact info?”

  Silke took the pen and notebook and started to write. “You have to give me yours as well, especially if you’re going to be in town . . . You know, maybe we could have lunch or something.”

  Kirin pulled a business card from her notebook and wrote her cell phone number on the back. “I’d like that. Would you add your e-mail address? I’d like to keep in touch, if you think that’s okay.”

  “Why wouldn’t it be?” Silke looked perplexed.

  “Well, you know, I don’t know how things are with your partner, and . . .”

  Silke waved. “I see. Rachel is possessive, I’ll admit, but I don’t think she spies on me, and I am allowed to have friends. At least I think I am.”

  Kirin swallowed hard. This felt increasingly awkward. She hesitated. “I know. I’m sure you’re right. I just don’t want to be the cause of any trouble.”

  “You won’t be, and I think it’d be fun to keep in touch.”

  As they walked back to the condo, Kirin insisted on helping, so Silke took her arm.

  “I’m going to try to get a few more pictures while the light is good. But when I get back, would you be interested in taking out one of those kayaks? I mean, is your leg okay?”

  “Sure. I can walk to the water and the rest is upper body,” Silke said. “I’ve always wanted to do that but never trusted myself to go alone.”

  They laughed as the tension dissipated.

  Kirin made a mental note to find a waterproof bag for her camera. Some pictures of the reef and of Silke would be cool.

  SILKE WAVED GOODBYE as Kirin ran down the front steps and across the wide swath of white sand toward the far side of the resort. Waving goodbye would happen again soon. The thought stirred a heaviness in her chest.

  She opened her sketchpad and turned to a new page. The slide show had inspired ideas, especially the pictures of the children. Every year she planned to do pen-and-ink drawings of some of the unique aspects of her tropical hideaway and never did. The striking blue skies and white clouds, the jewel-rich shades of blue in the ocean, the lush verdant green foliage, and the incredible varieties of the tropical fish in the reef provided an extraordinary depth of color. What also struck her was the soft fluid lines all around her. The angularity of American civilization was absent.

  Silke looked at the damage from the tropical storm and compared it to the visual impact of similar storms on major U.S. cities. Nature yielded to a weather assault, whereas, man-made structures broke. Recovery waxed and waned.

  ON THE WAY back to their condo, Kirin spotted a fisherman standing in the water next to the pier. As she got closer, she noticed he was filleting his daily catch. A small boy sat next to him and threw the scraps the man handed him into the air. Several birds hovered high above, waiting to grab one. The smart birds swam in front of him since his throw was never as high as he hoped it would be. She snapped a dozen pictures of the scene. It perfectly depicted her image of life on the islands. It was simple and basic, a miniature circle of life.

  Although she had traveled widely and had witnessed this kind of scene in many countries, somehow it felt different this time. This resonated more powerfully. Maybe because she compared this fisherman to the villagers she’d recently seen struggling to rebuild. She had an uneasy sensation in her gut. A deep emotion shifted inside—almost as though she had slowed down to the actual speed of life around her. Could it be that simple?

  I wonder how long ago I stopped seeing. She thought of Silke and wondered how the tragic accident of losing her sight had affected her as an artist. She smiled as she approached the condo. Speaking of artists, her sculptor friend was snoozing on the porch with a sketchbook in her lap.

  Kirin sat in the chair next to her and peeked at the sketch. She’d perfectly duplicated the scene in front of the condo, including the casitas on the right, the numerous palm trees, the gazebo with the swing, and the shoreline with the pier. The fluid grace of the detail made her feel the breeze.

  “Amazing,” she whispered.

  Silke opened one eye and smiled. She stretched and groaned contentedly. “I’ll bet you think I sleep all the time.”

  “Actually, I’m a little jealous of your ability to nod off. I can’t do it.” Kirin pointed to the sketch. “I didn’t realize your talents extended to drawing. This is beautiful.”

  Silke laughed. “I have promised myself every single time I come down here to do some sketches. I’ve always wanted to be able to capture the lyric beauty of the area. It’s something I can’t manage in three dimensions.”

  Kirin looked at the sketch again. “I think you’ve captured it beautifully. Just looking at this,” she pointed to the palm tree, “I can feel the breeze and hear the ocean.”

  “Seriously? Or are you trying to be nice.” Silke rolled her neck and smiled.

  “Completely serious. You could sell this. Promise me you’ll show it to Diane.”

  Silke closed the notebook. “Enough of your sweet talk. Are we taking the kayak out?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Kirin stood. “You’re sure your knee is okay?”

  Silke flexed it. “I think it’ll be fine.”

  “Okay. Let me download these pictures and then I’ll go pick up the paddles and life jackets. Do we have any more water bottles?”

  “You may want to pick up a couple more. I’ll change and be ready when you get back.”

  THIRTY MINUTES LATER, they stood on the shore with their gear loaded into the kayak. Years before, Kirin had done some canoeing and enjoyed it but this looked even more exciting because of the reef. The tour guide warned her to keep an eye out for the water taxis and to paddle to the north end of the property to steer out to avoid traffic from the dock.

  Silke happily agreed to have Kirin take the stern position and steer. It took about fifteen minutes of awkwardness and silliness for them to develop a coordinated effort. Once in sync, they made good time.

  Kirin watched in awe as Silke powered through the strokes. Her arms and shoulders were well developed
and strong. Kirin’s skill lay in her ability to make quick adjustments to keep them on course. As they neared the reef, the water became quite shallow.

  “Hold up,” Kirin said. “Can you see the fish below us?”

  Silke balanced the paddle in her lap, took off her sunglasses, and stared into the water for a few minutes. “Yes . . . they’re exquisite.”

  Kirin sat mesmerized as their kayak bobbed on the occasional waves. Beneath them, an underwater panorama of coral and fish, gleaming in the dappled sunlight, played like a 3-D film from National Geographic. She took photos, hoping to capture some of the beauty. The wind pushed the kayak in the other direction, and she took several wide-angle and telescopic views of the resort. A nice shot of the main entrance with flags waving above it and palm trees framing the restaurant would be perfect for her review. She leaned back and snapped a couple of shots of Silke’s profile. It was a nice profile shot as she leaned down to get a better glimpse of the underwater show.

  “Could you turn this way for a minute?”

  Silke complied and laughed. “You don’t need pictures of me, gads.”

  “C’mon. It’s my last day, and I want to remember this. Smile?”

  Silke responded with an utterly radiant smile. Sunshine lit up her face and frothy white waves crashed over the reef in the background. Yes, she wanted to remember this.

  They paddled north along the reef for a while then finally steered the kayak back toward shore. It was leisurely as well as easier with the wind at their back.

  Kirin really did want to remember this day. When deadlines threatened and when publishers and customers were demanding her time, she wanted to remember the bliss of having no demands, no accountability, and no guilt.

  As the kayak skidded onto the beach, Kirin recognized the crisp white shirt of the activity director as he walked toward them from the pier.

  “Hello. Did you enjoy yourselves?” He held the boat as they climbed out.

  “It was fantastic,” Silke said as he took her arm.

  “I didn’t expect you to come down to meet us,” Kirin said. “I’d have brought the gear back.”

  “It was no problem. I took some of our guests down to the dock for the water taxi and saw you coming in. Here let me take those.”

  “Thank you very much.” Silke handed him the paddles and life jackets.

  He pulled the kayak farther up on the shore and waved to them. “Don’t forget tonight is our Mexican fiesta.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  SILKE HELD ONTO Kirin’s arm as they climbed the steps to the pool-area festivities. Mariachi music played from a small stage off to the right. All along the main office, vendors displayed arts and crafts. The rest of the deck area held small tables covered with white tablecloths and candles. She could barely see because of the dim light.

  “I’m afraid you’ll have to find us a seat,” Silke said. “I can’t see anything.”

  “I can see why, it’s crowded and not easy to navigate . . . wait.” Kirin looked over the crowd. “I see your friends Bren and Katie. Do you want to join them?”

  “Can’t hurt to ask.”

  “Silke, over here.” Katie pulled out a chair. “We were hoping you’d show up.”

  “I don’t remember this many people before. What’s the occasion?” Silke folded her cane and noticed Kirin move her chair closer.

  Bren leaned forward. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name.”

  “Kirin Foster. I’m glad you guys had a table, not sure where we might have ended up.”

  Katie waved at a server. “We already ordered drinks and were about to hit the buffet line.”

  Silke looked toward the bar area. She could make out four long serving tables with spotlights focused on the food trays. “I’d love it if you guys could go through and tell me what they are offering before I have to brave that crowd.”

  “Sure thing. We’ll be right back,” Bren said.

  The server left with their drink order.

  “If you’re okay with it,” Kirin said, “I could just fix you a plate.”

  How thoughtful. Silke dreaded the prospect of trying to identify something she wanted. Her memory of the Mexican buffet was vague. Usually it was local and regional foods—freshly caught fish, seasonal fruits, and the always-popular beans, rice, corn, and fried meats. Some of the dishes were spicy but she never remembered which ones.

  As if on cue, Diane appeared. “Glad you made it. Paulo told me you were out kayaking today. Did you enjoy it?”

  “The fish around the reef were exquisite, and I took some good pictures of the resort—especially some of a local fisherman at your dock,” Kirin said.

  “That would have been Francisco. He provided most of the fish for tonight. He caught some beautiful bonefish, be sure to try it.”

  “We’re just waiting for Bren and Katie to come back to tell us what’s up there.”

  “No need. Why don’t I go up with Kirin and load up a plate for you?” Diane said. “I think I know what you like . . . and what you positively won’t eat.”

  Kirin laughed. “Great idea. I’m sure Diane will do better than I would.”

  Silke laughed. “All right, you two. Thanks, Diane.”

  Kirin followed Diane as Silke tried to watch. It was just too dark. She sipped the beer and closed her eyes. Music played behind her and all around was the sound of animated conversations and laughter. There was a time when she would have enjoyed the boisterous festive mood, but without peripheral vision, she remained on high alert for potential accidents. She would have skipped this party for some quiet time, but it was Kirin’s last night, and she wanted it to be special.

  “What a fabulous buffet this year,” Bren said. “Where’d Kirin go?”

  “Diane came by and offered to get me a plate,” Silke said. “They’re up there somewhere.”

  “Cool. How long will you be staying this year?”

  Silke scooted closer to the table so she wouldn’t have to shout. “I have another week. Kirin has to leave tomorrow.”

  Katie smiled. “She seems very nice.”

  “I think so. After all, I haven’t been murdered in my sleep.” She winked.

  Bren choked and started coughing.

  Katie handed her some water. “I’m sorry I wasn’t inferring anything . . . I just think she’s . . . so pleasant, you know?”

  Silke waved her hand. “I do know. I was teasing. We’ve had a great time. And since she’s never been to Belize, it’s been nice to show off our little gem.”

  Bren wiped the front of her shirt. “Well, I’m glad you had some company to help you out. It can’t be easy . . . you know, with the cane and all.”

  Silke knew how awkward this must be for them. She’d only met them last year, and they really didn’t know about Rachel. “Thanks. It’s really okay. I’m getting more comfortable navigating, but crowds are still a bit of a challenge.”

  “That buffet is amazing.” Kirin put down her plate.

  Diane slipped Silke’s plate in front of her and whispered each item and where it was on the plate. Perfect choices—none too hot. “I hope you enjoy and leave room for dessert.”

  “Thanks, you’re the best.” Silke squeezed her hand.

  After the meal, they sat enjoying coffee.

  “Anyone want to look at the artwork?” Katie asked.

  “I’ll join you,” Kirin said.

  Bren handed Katie some money. “Surprise me.”

  “Thanks, honey.”

  Silke remembered the story of their romantic meeting on Facebook and the long-distance courtship, happy how it had all worked out. Glad somebody’s happy.

  “Do you know anything about fishing trips?” Bren asked.

  Silke snapped back to the present. “I’m pretty sure Paulo could set one up. Seems to me he does that when there’s interest and enough people.”

  “Good idea, I’ll check with him. Are you interested?”

  Silke laughed. “I’m not much into fishing. Wh
en I was little my family rented a cabin up north and I used to go out with my dad, but not so much anymore. I might go along for the boat ride, though.”

  “We’ve generously added to the local economy,” Kirin announced as she pulled out her chair. She raved about the paintings and the jewelry.

  “They even had some interesting pen and ink drawings . . . none as fantastic as yours,” Kirin said.

  “Flattery will get you nowhere,” Silke whispered.

  “We’d love to see your work,” Katie said. “Wouldn’t we, Bren?”