The Last Oracle

by Colvin, Delia

  She looked out the window and shook her head. “No.”

  “Good!” she heard, as his voice came in over her headphones.

  The only thing she heard next was the tower saying, “Cleared for take-off.”

  “Here we go.” Alex glanced at Valeria. “Ready?” She shrugged, nervously.

  The aircraft rolled down the runway and, within a few seconds, they were airborne. Alex cranked the plane hard to the left and they were immediately over the turquoise sea. Valeria saw the cruise ships not far from them and she was amazed at how quickly she went from fear to thrill. It felt as though the plane was weightless. Alex did a quick sideways glance and, as if it were possible, his smile widened even further as they headed out over the coastline to the east.

  “Will you tell me where are we going now?”

  “You’ll know in about an hour. See that aircraft ahead of us?” Alex pointed off to the north. Valeria looked and saw nothing. Then a plane appeared out of nowhere and seemed to shoot right past them at a slightly higher altitude.

  “Wow!” she said with awe in her voice.

  Below was a cove with the most perfect white beach surrounded by extraordinary turquoise waters. Ahead of them, the sky was the deepest blue, marked with clouds that looked like cotton balls.

  She occasionally heard Alex talking to the air traffic controllers but she couldn’t understand all that they were saying. It seemed as if they had only been airborne for minutes when she heard Alex through her headphones. “We’re making a pit stop.”

  They banked sharply over the water in front of a much larger jet. She felt Alex pull up on the nose of the plane as he conversed with the tower. Then she realized the jet was going to the same runway right behind them.

  “Alex, you said that my job was to tell you about other planes?”

  “I saw him,” he said, and tilted his head for a moment. “Don’t worry.”

  She attempted to look casual and heard the slight delay as her voice came over the headset, saying, “I’m not worried.”

  Behind Alex’s sunglasses, she could see his eyes dancing with amusement as he released a joyful laugh.

  Then the tower came on again, “Helio eight one two, confirm you can make that first taxiway. Or do you need to go around?”

  A pilot with a slow southern drawl and the control of an airline pilot interrupted Alex’s response, “Tower, that boy could sit that bird down on the threshold and make an immediate 180. You’re dealing with greatness here. Watch and be amazed.”

  Valeria noticed Alex’s slight chuckle. “Tower, we can make the first taxiway. Don’t want to alarm my passenger or she’ll never fly with me again. And thanks, Jack!”

  “Good to see you, Alex,” the airliner said.

  The plane touched down smoothly not far from the exit and, with no jolting whatsoever, exited the required taxiway. Valeria heard, “Welcome to St. Thomas, taxi to the ramp.” Immediately, the jet shot by behind them and Alex waved.

  They taxied past the main terminal and pulled up in front of a tired brown building with several rough looking planes in the lot. The prop stopped spinning and Alex jumped out. “Wait here. I’ll be just a few minutes.”

  She saw him walk around the plane carrying blocks, evidently for the tires. A moment later, he walked toward the drab building and disappeared inside.

  In less than a minute, he came back out swinging a set of keys around his forefinger. He helped her out and wrapped an arm around her waist as they strolled toward the front of the drab building.

  “Almost there,” Alex said as he walked toward a rusty 1980 Ford Escort. Valeria hated to be a snob, but the car looked filthy. “I hope you don’t mind,” he said with a wink.

  “Uh, no. It’s…”

  Before she could answer, Alex opened the door. The interior was coated with a heavy layer of dust and wreaked of cigarette smoke. Then he tried to close her door and the hinges were rusted so badly that he had to put all of his weight into closing her door.

  He climbed into the driver’s side and cranked the engine. After sputtering several times, the car eventually started.

  “Ahh, they just don’t make ’em like they used to,” he said with a hint of humor.

  “Yes, and thank God for that,” Valeria muttered.

  They drove two miles along the coast and pulled off onto a dirt road that wove through a steep narrow path and ended at a shack with chickens, goats, and trash.

  “We’re here,” Alex said, popping out of the car and then coming around to open her door.

  The structure was made of tin and had over twenty chickens on the roof. Trees surrounded the shack but she could see light under the branches and assumed it to be the coast. A young black man came out of the shack, excited to see Alex. She prayed they weren’t staying here for long. Suddenly, she felt a nudge at her hip and saw a goat that was butting its head against her. She tried to move and so did the goat. Several chickens cackled as she tried to step out of the goat’s way.

  “Alex?”

  “Oh, sorry, beautiful,” he said as he led her toward a shirtless man with deep black skin and dreads. “This is Jimmy.”

  “Ah, hallo, ma’am! You da missus? Good to meet you!” Jimmy said cheerfully with his strong island accent.

  “Hello,” Valeria said, a bit unnerved that the goat was following her.

  “Take a stroll through the store. The boy is taking a bit longer than usual. Might be something you need—take a stroll,” he encouraged. “You never know.”

  Alex glanced at the goat and then said, “You never know.”

  He led Valeria into the shack that had only a single row of shelves. There was a clear plastic case with a few week-old doughnuts. Alex pointed at them. “Hungry?”

  Valeria shook her head and was certain her husband had been possessed by another man.

  Around the corner was a rack with a hundred different types of rum and a few bottles of wine. He brushed his fingers along the dusty bottles as if looking for something specific. His fingers lighted for a moment on a three-dollar bottle of Boone’s Farm strawberry wine. Then he turned, and she thought she heard him snicker as he continued down the aisle.

  She remembered Weege’s words at the wedding, “Men...they all change after they get that piece of paper!”

  Still, this couldn’t be the same guy who brought in a jumbo jet to fly them alone from Africa to Europe; the guy who asked her if she wanted him to buy her a fleet of yachts. Not that any of that was particularly appealing to her. She didn’t need or want much, except for Alex—which she realized was a very far cry from her purported minor needs.

  She heard an exchange between a young boy and Jimmy outside.

  “Looks like our starters have arrived!” Alex said as he headed for the door.

  Valeria nodded as if she understood. It must be something they could use to start that heap of rust they were driving, in case they needed to; although, she was certain she would prefer to walk. She followed Alex back out to where the goat was waiting and, of course, it nudged her as soon as she walked out the door. A shirtless boy of about six, wearing a wet pair of cut-off jeans, came from a trail in the woods carrying two lobsters.

  “Lobsters!” Valeria said.

  “Yes. What were you expecting?” Alex asked playfully.

  Jimmy held a bag and the boy dropped the lobsters in. “You need some chickens, maybe?” he said to Valeria, as he waved at the scroungy looking birds that were hovering everywhere.

  “No. Thanks, Jimmy!” Alex handed him some money and then held out a few bills. “This is for Linc.”

  “You spoil da boy.” Jimmy’s grin broadened. “I give you a separate bag for da hens…”

  “No, thanks,” Alex said.

  They loaded back into the Ford and, to Valeria’s relief, drove back to the airport. Alex loaded the “starters” in the back of the plane and they took off again.

  This time, they flew only a short distance back to the west. Alex circled over the peak
of a lush green mountain and dove into a valley. The plane circled down and then she saw a small patch of dirt that could have been a landing strip—a very small landing strip on a steep incline. She held her breath as Alex placed the plane down perfectly and taxied just off the end of the runway where there was only room to turn around and park an old red Jeep.

  The smile was still on his face as he helped her into the doorless Jeep. The floorboards were covered with sand, but it did appear to be in better condition than the Ford.

  “I’ll come back for the rest,” he said.

  “Alex, where are we?”

  “St. John.”

  He turned the key and the Jeep roughly kicked a billow of black smoke from the tail pipe. It lurched and then moved smoothly up the steep incline, and then around the steepest and sharpest hairpin turn that she had ever encountered. She held her breath but the Jeep made the turn and, at the top of the mountain, there was a sandy lot that led to a house—well, almost a house. It was an open-walled home with tile floors and magnificent views down a lush green valley to the Caribbean.

  “What is this place?”

  “It’s one of our homes.” Alex jumped out of the Jeep and came around to the passenger side to lift her out of the seat; he carried her into the main area of the house. “And, this—is as close to a threshold as I have here,” he said, setting her down in front of a mahogany four-poster feather bed. She brushed her fingers along the soft netting tied to the post.

  There was a sofa and two chairs inside along with a small table. The patio area had a fire pit with two Adirondacks and a small table on either side. There was only one solid wall on the mountain-facing side of the cabin. The large red tiles extended beyond the corner supports—which were really the only thing resembling a wall—to what might be considered two decks, each with their own spectacular view.

  On the forward deck was a doublewide lounge chair with cushions in soft blues. The other deck was home to a claw foot tub. Along the back wall was an area that served as a kitchen, with a two-burner gas stove and oven, what appeared to be a new coffee maker, and a brand new blender. A bookcase, covered in paperbacks, extended along the majority of the back wall. He noticed her eyeing them.

  “Books don’t do well here,” he said, suddenly unsure of his plans to bring her here. He evaluated the look in her eyes. “Is this okay?” He continued nervously, “I always wanted to bring you here but, for our honeymoon, I had intended something a bit more elaborate. After the fire, Lars and I agreed that we needed some place where no one could find us.”

  “This is where you were!” she said, suddenly confident.

  “What?”

  “You were here. When I was in St. Croix, you were here.” She turned to him and her eyes widened. “Of course, that’s why I didn’t see you at the airport when I left.” She looked at the place with new eyes. “Oh! And you left early so that you could catch the afternoon flight back to Europe. A commercial flight wouldn’t have gotten you back to Puerto Rico on time and we would have been at the hotel in Puerto Rico...together.”

  She brushed her hands over the soft pastel cotton of the down comforter. The luxury was in the extraordinary detail, and Alex knew luxury.

  “I wondered where you were and what you were doing. It all makes sense now,” she continued.

  “If you wanted to know, why didn’t you ask me?”

  She shrugged as she continued to take in every detail of the home. “I guess…well, this may sound silly, but I was afraid you had gone someplace with,” she glanced down and then her eyes darted briefly to him, “Daphne.” She bit her lip. “Weege says ‘don’t ask what you don’t want to know.’”

  He chuckled and raised his brows. “Are you jealous?”

  “No,” she replied too quickly. “Maybe.” Valeria examined the fabric of the sofa and could picture Alex relaxing there.

  “Don’t be. This is definitely not Daphne’s style,” he said softly, as he approached her. “But, regardless of her style, Daphne is definitely not my style!” His eyes softened as they filled with love. “There is only one person who is my style—one woman whom I have ever desired.” He brushed the side of her arm. “And only one person I have ever brought here.” Alex’s eyes narrowed, evaluating her response. “Is this place all right?”

  “This is…” Valeria swallowed as tears came into her eyes. “Absolutely perfect!”

  Alex sat down on the bed and pulled her into his arms. “Good, because Mrs. Morgan, I want to spend as much time alone with you as I can get!” His eyes filled with desire and he kissed her mouth as his fingers brushed along her collarbone.

  Valeria felt the familiar rush of heat. She brushed the side of his face; then, with a short kiss, she said, “Do you think it would be possible for me to shower and change?”

  Putting his passion on hold, he drew a deep breath and released her. “Of course! I should have…I’m sorry, love!” He took her hand and led her back out to the porch where a showerhead was mounted on a steel hose.

  Valeria pulled at the white silk that served as a shower curtain and asked, “Is this…”

  “It’s a parachute.”

  “Really?”

  As he bit his lip, he said, “You can hop in and I’ll bring you a towel. I’ll shower when you’re done.”

  Their wedding night seemed like such a long time ago, and she was anxious to be on their honeymoon. But it felt like the first time again, and she wanted it to be as wonderful as their wedding night. She wished that the silk negligee had survived the fire, although, she was certain that Camille had replaced it with something just as beautiful. Here, there was no place to rummage through a suitcase, nor to change in private—except a small bathroom without a mirror. Alex saw visions of them married and comfortable with each other. The getting there...well, that was another story. Suddenly, she could see the embarrassment on Alex’s face that he had not thought of that for her.

  “I’m sorry, Val. Of course, you need some privacy.” His face reddened and he shook his head briefly. “Why don’t I get the suitcases while you shower? I’ll leave your bags here for you and then I’ll go take care of...a few things.” He drew a deep breath. “I’ll be back in about thirty minutes. Is that enough time?”

  She suddenly felt silly, but she did want the time to clean up. She turned away from him and cleared her throat wishing she had the courage to say that he didn’t need to go through all of that. “Yes. Thank you,” she responded, a bit more formally than she intended. Alex nodded and headed down the hill.

  Behind the steel pole and showerhead was a bench. She pulled the curtain closed around the bench and turned on the water. Then she stripped down and felt the water run down her body, cooling her and washing away the travel and the worries of the past few days. In a moment, she heard Alex outside of the curtain and could see his hand through a small opening as he set a towel down on the bench for her. His fingers hesitated on the towel—there was something so sensuous about his long fingers. Suddenly, she felt the aching urgency of days ago and, without thinking, she reached for his hand, needing to feel his fingers on her again. With her other hand, she pushed open the parachute.

  “Come here,” she said.

  Alex froze, staring at her as the water ran down her. She stepped toward him and pulled at his shirt. He kicked off his shoes and, in a moment, his clothes were off and they were together under the cool water, wrapped in each other as his mouth brushed hers first lightly, and then with the passion that they had discovered only a few nights before.

  CHAPTER 8

  That evening, they sat under billions of stars by the fire pit, sipping the most extraordinary wine that Valeria had ever tasted, stuffing themselves with lobster, salad, and baked potato.

  She discovered that this home had storage, including a fantastic wine cellar under the house.

  Alex glanced away from the fire to Valeria, and smiled lazily as he lifted a finger toward her face. “What is that expression?” he asked, completely cont
ent.

  She looked up at the stars for a moment, and then her smile broadened. “I’m...happy,” she sighed, as she ran her fingers through his tousled hair. After the shower, they didn’t take time to brush their hair, and had made love while the sun set in brilliant hues over the Caribbean.

  Alex beamed and kissed his bride, and then smiled mischievously.

  “What?” she asked.

  He was someone who had made a practice over eons to never say what he was thinking, and to release it all now made him feel like a fish out of water. Finally, he said, “You know everything was so serious yesterday with...well, you know. I thought it was time for some...fun.” He laughed. “You should have seen your face when we got into that beat-up, old Ford in St. Thomas!” Alex laughed and shook his head. “It was everything I could do to keep a straight face.”

  “And I thought I was hiding it so well!” she said, dipping a strip of lobster into the butter, and then stuffing it into her mouth.

  “When we got off the flight and took a taxi to change airports in Puerto Rico…” Alex shook his head, obviously amused. He lowered his brows. “You don’t like San Juan.”

  “How did you know?”

  “It is pretty easy to tell when you don’t like something.” He brushed her nose. “You crinkle your nose and then you bite the side of your lip,” he said, running his finger along the curve of her mouth. He sighed again. “I guess I should have told you that we weren’t staying there, but I was having considerably too much fun.” He smiled again. “Puerto Rico can be a lot of fun. I’ll have to show it to you sometime—actually, I was thinking we could go there for your birthday.”

  She scrunched her nose. “Isn’t it customary for people to celebrate their birthdays in their favorite locations? I know we can’t go back to Morgana, but why not here?” Considering Alex’s desire to please her, she added, “Really, the only thing that matters to me is that we are together.”

  “It’ll be fun.” He pulled her in and kissed the top of her head. “Mani has a place there overlooking a cliff, and the family plans to meet us there.”