Balefire

by Barrett

  “Sure, I had no idea,” Bren said. “I thought you just taught art classes.”

  “She’s actually quite talented, if I do say so. But she’s kind secretive about it,” Kirin whispered conspiratorially.

  “Enough you guys, this no-longer-starving artist needs to get some sleep. Kirin, you can stay . . .”

  “No, I need to get my belongings together and pack.” Kirin stood, along with Silke. “Listen, it was great to meet you guys, hope our paths cross again.”

  Silke relaxed once they were on the moonlit beach with only the sounds of whooshing palm fronds and small waves breaking along the shore.

  “This is perfect. I hope you enjoyed the party tonight.” Silke continued to hold Kirin’s arm.

  “I did, it was a perfect final evening. I can’t believe they do that every week.”

  “It’s been a tradition since they took over the place,” Silke said. “They want new and old guests to have a local communal experience. The staff always takes a little more pride in preparing these special evenings.”

  Kirin grew quiet for several moments as they walked along the water’s edge. “You know, I’ve done so much traveling and stayed in dozens of accommodations all over. The only common denominator has been being alone.” She stopped walking. “It’s an entirely different experience to share it with someone and actually get to know people the way I have this time. And I have you to thank for that. I can only imagine what my week would’ve been like all alone on a private island. Jeez.”

  Silke squeezed her arm. “You’re sweet, but I’m sure you do fine. After all, this is your job. And you’re good at it.”

  Kirin laughed. “I guess we’ll see about that when my editor sees my review.”

  “I hope you’ll remember to send it to me.” Silke reached for the handrail as they approached the steps to the condo.

  “I will, I promise.” Kirin unlocked the door. “After you.”

  “It’s good to be home.” Silke slipped off her sandals and went to the kitchen.

  “Before you go to bed, I wanted to show you something.” Kirin came up behind her, put a plastic bag on the counter, and unwrapped several sheets of tissue paper. “I wanted to find a gift for Melissa—my erstwhile assistant—because I was a bit grumpy before I left. And I also found this for you.” She beamed.

  Silke stared at the carved wooden seagull. It stood ten-to-twelve inches tall with the wings spread wide. It was exactly what she had imagined finding in San Pedro. “However did you know?” She held it and ran her fingers across the surface, feeling the intricate carving of the feathers, beak, and legs. “Kirin, its exquisite, exactly what I wanted.”

  “I’m glad. I felt bad when we couldn’t look for it in San Pedro when the kid ran into you. I wasn’t sure you’d even want to go back to town any time soon. The artist said the wood is Ziricote, a type of a rare tropical hardwood.” She leaned forward with her arms on the counter.

  Silke turned on the overhead lights and examined the gull more closely. “It’s just gorgeous.” She set it on the counter and slipped her arms around Kirin’s shoulders. “I can’t tell you how much this means to me.” Words stuck in her tightening throat. “I’ve had a pretty crappy year and just sort of closed myself off from everyone.” She allowed herself to draw strength from Kirin’s embrace. “Whenever I look at this soaring bird, I will think about this week, a chance meeting, and how it’s touched both our lives.”

  Her heart squeezed a little at the thought of Kirin’s imminent departure. Her presence during the week had lightened her mood and kept her from feeling sorry for herself. She hugged her a little tighter.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “IS THIS YOUR shampoo? It was in the shower.” Silke waved the bottle out the bathroom door.

  Kirin looked up. “Yup, that’s mine, thanks.”

  Silke handed it to her and walked back into the kitchen. She washed the few dishes they’d used and carefully dried each one as Kirin continued folding and packing her bag. The morning had been quiet. Each of them tiptoed around Kirin’s departure. The mood remained light with customary small talk, but Silke suspected that Kirin felt just as conflicted as she felt. A serendipitous meeting had grown into a comfortable friendship that would leave a hole once Kirin left.

  Kirin stopped and picked up her journal. “I don’t want to forget to send Diane and Mark a thank you note for their hospitality. Are you sure I can’t give you money for sharing this gorgeous place all week?”

  “I’m sure,” Silke said. “It’s pre-paid, and I enjoyed your company. Besides, you paid for the elegant accommodations at the International.”

  They laughed, which eased the tension.

  “There, I think that’s it.” Kirin zipped the bag and wheeled it out to the porch. “You’d think this would get easier, considering how often I do it.”

  “Do you know where your next assignment will be?” Silke knew she was making small talk.

  “Not really. Esther’s last e-mail only provided the dates for the next two issues and suggested I let her know when I’d have the piece finished. I hope she’ll give me time to work on it. Besides I need to get the pictures to Ned in lay-out so he can work his magic.” Kirin poured a glass of water from the refrigerator and sat down.

  Silke put away the last of the dishes. “I don’t envy him. I think it would be hard to select just a few. They’re all so good.”

  “Thanks, we’ll see.” Kirin looked at her watch. “You know, you don’t need to walk all the way to the pier with me . . .”

  “I know, but I’d like to. Sometimes it’s nice to have someone to wave goodbye or hello. Don’t you think?” Silke hoped her smile was genuine.

  “Yes it is. I just don’t want you to feel like you’re obligated.” Kirin put the glass in the sink.

  “I really don’t. Sometimes I just go sit at the end of the pier and listen to the ocean.”

  THEY WALKED LEISURELY along the water toward the pier. Silke didn’t reach for Kirin’s arm, she might as well get used to walking alone.

  “There have only been a couple of places in my travels I’ve wanted to revisit. There was a small village outside of Zermatt, Switzerland and Istanbul, and of course, Venice. But, I’ve just added Belize to my R&R places to go.” Kirin tugged as her bag got bogged down in the sand.

  They sat on a shaded bench at the end of the pier and watched as some of the young staff pushed and pulled large wagons filled with luggage to the bright red-and-white boats the resort operated to transport their guests. Each bag was strategically loaded to balance with the passengers waiting to board. Silke usually enjoyed this choreographed event as it occurred every week. But today it was bittersweet. Her chest ached, and she swallowed to control her emotions.

  Kirin stood as the group on the dock grew smaller. “I guess I should go . . .”

  Silke stood. “I hope you have an uneventful trip home. Maybe you could shoot me an e-mail . . . if you have time.”

  Kirin hugged her tightly. “I will. Promise me you’ll be careful and let Diane help you?”

  Silke tried to laugh, but it caught in her throat. The warmth of Kirin’s caress would have to sustain her. “I promise. Be safe.”

  One of the boys offered a hand as Kirin stepped into the full boat. She waved.

  Silke watched the boat slowly curve out into the main current where it picked up speed until it skimmed across the waves like a skipping stone. As it became too small to see, she felt her chest constrict with a surprising ache. The unexpected warmth and camaraderie from a virtual stranger had surprised her. How long had it been since anyone had asked or considered her thoughts or opinions. When was the last time anyone worried about her safety and well-being?

  “Miss Dyson? I have a phone message for you.”

  Silke started. “Yes.”

  He handed her an envelope.

  “Oh . . . thank you.” She opened the envelope and scanned the message.

  You got a voicemail message from the Nation
al Endowment for the Arts. Call if you want to know what it says. Rach

  Her hand trembled. It had been months since she’d sent the grant application. The grant money—if she got it—would help her set up her studio as a full time business. And . . . allow her a way out of the suffocating relationship with Rachel. She crumpled the note in her fist and stuffed it in her pocket.

  The decision to act felt more urgent now. She swept her hair back. The traffic on the pier gradually disappeared except for two men working on the outboard motor of a launch tied near the shore. She glanced back to where the boat had disappeared. A gull swooped by and perched on a nearby post. He shook and refolded his wings then looked right at her, as though he expected a response.

  “I’ve got nothing.” She shook her head and thought about the beautiful carving Kirin had bought her. “Is there a message I’m missing?”

  The gull launched suddenly and dove at a small fish near the surface.

  Silke laughed. “Would that be ‘go for it’?”

  She unfolded her cane and started back to the condo to distract herself by drawing.

  THE LOCAL FLIGHT from San Pedro departed on time, and Kirin arrived at the main airfield in Belize ninety minutes before her connecting flight. Other small passenger planes arrived and departed, leaving small groups of tourists milling about the steamy one-story building to wait for one of the three international flights back to the states. Was it only a week ago that she had arrived at this small rustic airfield—happy to be alive?

  She scrolled through the images on her camera and smiled. With each shot, a visceral reaction accompanied the memory. This trip stood apart from all her other expeditions and the unifying thread was the unique and likable Silke Dyson.

  Her mind drifted back to Silke and the day in the kayak. That day had been special. As much as she tried to resist, she felt a powerful attraction to Silke. She missed having a close relationship with shared jokes and interests. Sure, she and Melissa had enjoyed an intimate relationship—of sorts. Yeah, right. It lingered. Part convenience, and for Melissa it was fantasy and flirting. Not productive, but a relationship of convenience.

  Over the years, she’d given up several pastimes, including skiing, softball, book club, and dating. Suddenly, all that paled in comparison. She couldn’t be sure but she thought Silke felt the same way. At least she wasn’t willing to let go of the possibility. Not yet.

  The gate attendant called her flight. Note to self: keep in touch with Silke Dyson!

  Chapter Fifteen

  “KNOCK, KNOCK.” DIANE pushed open the door. “It’s your favorite Sunday night entertainment—me with a pizza and wine.”

  Silke laughed. “I thought you were kidding.” She carried the pizza to the counter. “Did you make this? It smells wonderful.”

  “Just for you. Last Christmas my family sent one of those huge holiday cheese boxes. You know the kind, with ten different cheeses and five kinds of sausage—including pepperoni. It even had maple syrup, nuts, and mustard.” Diane opened the wine bottle and poured. “Evidently, they still believe Mark and I are subsisting on raw fish, bananas, and coconuts.”

  Silke laughed. “If they only knew. Don’t they follow the news? I mean, you don’t get a five star rating for scavenging food.”

  “My parents came down two years after we opened, but since Daddy’s leg surgery they won’t travel. Shall I keep this warm or would you rather eat right away?”

  “Let’s sit outside and talk a while. It’s cooler now, and I always like to enjoy the sunset.”

  Silke held Diane’s glass while she rearranged the lounges to face the ocean. “Perfect.”

  “Before she left, Kirin mentioned some sketches you were doing. She was very impressed. When did you start drawing?” Diane took back her glass. “Thanks.”

  Silke tried to remember when her plan formed. “I guess it was after the holidays. I wanted some way to generate money. You know, in case, well . . . I needed it. I applied for a grant to do a series of works about Belize.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me? If you need anything, please ask, honey,” Diane said.

  “I would if it was a problem. It was just some idea-juggling and what-ifs.” Silke swallowed a gulp of wine.

  “Has it gotten worse?” Diane’s voice was tense.

  Silke didn’t want to alarm Diane unnecessarily. “No. But I believe we have irreconcilable differences, and I’m not sure I want to invest any more time in a relationship that neither of us enjoys.”

  Diane sat up and faced her. “Does Rachel feel the same way?”

  Dangerous territory. “I don’t know.”

  Diane put down her glass and took Silke’s hand. “Silke, it’s me. What’s going on?”

  Her chest burned and a lump formed in her throat. It was impossible to calculate the enormity of her sadness and fear. For months . . . no, years, this secret had metastasized into a cold mass in her gut. One she had forced into a tight pulsing sphere of cold energy.

  “I don’t know how to explain. I don’t want you to hate me.” She gasped.

  “Hate you? For what? I could never do that, ever. Please tell me, because now you’re scaring me. Was there more than the fight where she choked you?”

  Silke shook her head then took another gulp of her wine.

  Diane waited—motionless.

  Purple-and-pink-tinged clouds hovered over the waves that crashed against the reef. The water spray sparkled with billions of reflections as it danced in the fading sunlight.

  Silke closed her eyes and inhaled slowly to still the pounding in her chest. “Rachel left the relationship years ago. It was so insidious and I didn’t recognize the signs. I finally began to realize something was wrong when I read vague comments she posted online and used the same flirtatious jokes she used when she met me.” She slid to the end of the chaise lounge and sat up straighter. “Then her business trips became longer and more frequent. I pretended not to know.” Her throat slowly tightened with anger and shame. “When I hinted at it–jokingly—she denied it. Then eight months ago, I got mad and called her on it. That was when . . . well, she was livid. I’ve never seen her so angry. Shouting became pushing and she choked me.” She sat up and took a breath. “When I got home from the hospital, she moved out for two weeks.”

  Diane took her hand. “Oh sweetie, I’m so sorry.”

  “Something must have happened while she was gone, because when she came back, she was a different person—kind, solicitous, and pleading for another chance. I eventually agreed.”

  Diane stroked her arm. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would have come back.”

  “I felt humiliated. I was so stupid.” Silke let the tears that were a long time coming flow. Diane held her until the flow slowed to a trickle.

  When they finished the wine and enough pizza, Diane started cleaning up. “Do you want another slice or should I wrap it up?” She held up the spatula.

  “Thanks, I’m so full. I can’t remember the last time I ate so much.”

  “Well, you earned it.” She winked at Silke. “Why don’t we take a little walk?”

  They strolled north past the new condo construction and the short pier leading to the small building that would house the new massage therapist Diane had raved about. She hired a local curandera named Nekoomis.

  Diane tugged her arm. “Come on I want to show you something.”

  The small thatched building was open on two sides facing the water. Inside were two tables and some built-in bookshelves. “This is where Nekoomis will start working Monday, and I hope you get a chance to see her before you leave. Among the locals, she’s a legendary healer. They treat her as someone with almost magical abilities. She will be offering traditional massage for guests, but will offer other services if warranted.” She looked around the space, dimly lit with moonlight. “Right now, it’s waiting for one more coat of stain.”

  “It’s a lovely space,” Silke said. “I love the way the moonlight reflects off the water in here and
, of course, the smell of the wood mixed with the tang of the ocean.”

  Diane stood with their hands on her hips. “I’m proud of how it turned out.”

  “Diane . . . wanna go skinny dipping?”

  “Are you joking?”

  “No, come on. No one comes up here.”

  “Except the security guard.”

  “He just passed us on the way. He knows we’re here. And besides that means he won’t be back for a while.”

  The pause was all Silke needed to pull off her tee shirt and slip out of her shorts. She sat on the pier and slipped into the water with a squeal. “Oh! This feels wonderful. It’s only about five feet deep.”