The Wishing Trees

by John Shors

  He was blessed to have discovered her, he said, trying not to weep. She’d come to him from afar and he would never let her go.

  IAN AWOKE FROM THE DREAM, QUIETLY WALKED into the bathroom, sat down on the toilet, and cried. He wept as the sun slowly chased away the blackness of night, pushing light into the world, but not into him. As he thought about his dream, he realized for the first time why Kate hadn’t sent Mattie and him to Indonesia. He’d proposed to her there, of course, and she wasn’t willing to send him to such a place. It was too sacred, and some memories were best left unvisited.

  After plucking three antacids from a bottle, Ian began to chew, the salt of his tears falling to his lips, to his mouth, and mingling with the taste of the medicine. He clutched at his stomach, needing to stop the pain, the tears. Soon Mattie would awaken, and he had to settle his emotions so that he could crawl back in bed with her.

  Rubbing his face with a towel, Ian managed to calm himself, though he still felt overwhelmed, both from the responsibility of raising Mattie alone and from the weight of his sorrow. So much of him was dead.

  But as he always did when he was in the depths of his sorrow, he reminded himself of Mattie. His love for her was what kept him going, through the cold, into the warmth of day. As he opened the bathroom door and reentered the sleeping area, he saw her face. She looked so beautiful—a reincarnation of her mother as well as a perfectly unique being.

  Ian eased back into bed beside her, continuing to watch her face, hoping that her dreams were happy ones. He kissed her forehead lightly and tried not to grimace from the pain in his belly, a pain that had been growing worse as the days passed.

  I love you so bloody much, Roo, he thought. You keep me steaming ahead when no one else could. And I’m going to keep my promise to your mum. You’ll be content and fulfilled. You’ll laugh. I don’t know how the bloody hell I’ll do it, but I will. So just sleep, and dream about lovely things, about whatever makes you smile.

  THE LONGBOAT WAS ABOUT THIRTY FEET FROM bow to stern, composed of long wooden planks that once had been varnished but were now weather-beaten. The bow curved dramatically upward, as if preparing to face a phalanx of approaching waves. Dangling around the bow were wreaths of plastic flowers. Wooden planks spanned the boat, serving as seats. A canopy that sheltered only a small portion of the craft was held upright by rusting steel rods. At the stern, a large unenclosed motor was operated by a simple throttle and steering pole. Emerging from the back of the engine, a rod, perhaps fifteen feet long, ran almost parallel to the water. At the end of the rod was a propeller. The design of the engine and the prop allowed the boat to be driven into shallow waters.

  Ian saw that the longboat had only two haggard-looking life jackets but he wasn’t worried. Mattie was a strong swimmer, and they weren’t going out far. They both sat near the bow. A red, white, and blue Thai flag rippled in the wind beside them. The boat rose and fell as it met gentle turquoise-colored swells. Their guide, Alak, stood in the stern and used the steering pole to navigate his craft around reefs and the contours of Ko Phi Phi. They were now near one of the island’s vast butterfly wings. Waves crashed against the limestone cliffs, booming like distant fireworks.

  As they neared the cliffs, Mattie studied the formations of rocks, wanting to sketch them later. The morning hadn’t started out well for her, as she’d heard her father crying quietly in the bathroom. His sadness had made her shed a few tears as well, but she had dried them by the time he crept back into bed and put his arm around her. She’d felt safe at that moment—sad, but at least safe. He had tried to make her smile over breakfast, and now, as they rounded a bend and entered a placid stretch of water, she wanted him to forget whatever he had been thinking about.

  “Did you and Mommy snorkel here?” she asked, twisting a long braid around her forefinger.

  “I reckon so, Roo. I recognize some of it.”

  “Is this where the sharks were?”

  “The sharks?”

  “Daddy, you know what I’m talking about. You and Mommy told me all about Ko Phi Phi’s sharks.”

  Ian nodded, impressed with her memory but wishing it wasn’t so keen. “Those critters, luv, are a bit farther around the island, at a place called Shark Point.”

  Though Mattie had no desire to swim with sharks, she longed for him to think that she was brave, as her mother always had. “Can we go there? I want to see them.”

  “No, I reckon that’s not such a grand idea.”

  “But you said they were just black-tipped reef sharks. That they’d never attacked anyone.”

  “You remember that?”

  “Of course, Daddy. You told me all about them, how you sat still in the water and they circled around you.”

  “Well, there are other places for us to snorkel, where the reef is just as lovely.”

  “But that’s the best place. Please, Daddy. I’m not scared. Really, I’m not.”

  He looked away, wishing that he hadn’t told her so many stories about their earlier trip to Asia. What else would she remember? “I know you’re not scared, Roo. But that doesn’t mean we should go swimming with a bunch of bloody sharks.”

  “I want to draw them.”

  “And you’re not afraid?”

  “No.”

  “You promise?”

  “Mommy said they were as safe as cats. So why would I be afraid?”

  Ian motioned for their guide to slow his longboat. Alak eased back on the throttle, and the noisy engine quieted. “Is Shark Point safe?” Ian asked. “Safe for Mattie?”

  The Thai, who was dressed in a sun-stained U2 concert T-shirt, nodded. “Shark Point very safe. Sharks never attack anyone. Never. They afraid of us. Only if you stay still do they come. If you move, they swim away.”

  “You’ve swum with them?”

  “I used to. Almost every day.”

  “Used to? Why not anymore?”

  Alak, who was probably in his early thirties, shut off the engine and stepped closer to Ian and Mattie. “Maybe someday I go back in ocean. But not yet.”

  “Why not?” Mattie asked.

  “Because of tsunami,” he replied, wiping excess sunscreen off Mattie’s nose. “Too much lotion . . . it make your mask fog up.”

  Mattie shifted on the wooden seat. “But what about the tsunami?”

  “The waves kill my wife. My children.” He looked back toward the main part of Ko Phi Phi. “Now I have new family,” he said, smiling. “New baby. But I not ready to swim yet. Maybe when my boy is ready, I am ready.”

  Ian nodded, knowing that the tsunami had devastated Ko Phi Phi, killing a third of the island’s inhabitants. “I’m so sorry, mate, to hear about your wife and children.”

  Alak’s smile faded. “Two waves come at Phi Phi. From both sides. Before the waves come, the water go down, and all the children rush out, laughing. They go out too far. And then the waves come. So big. Maybe five meters high. I out in ocean. In my old boat. We tip over and have to swim. Two people die from my boat. Then, three days later, I find my wife’s body on another island. My children I never find.” He paused, carefully wiping the excess sunscreen onto the tops of Mattie’s ears. “We rebuild Phi Phi. We still rebuilding.”

  “And you married again?” Ian asked, wondering how he could have gone on if Mattie and Kate had died together.

  “Yes. Just last year. And we have baby boy. He make me so happy. My life start again. I think . . . maybe my other boy . . . he in the new one. Their smile the same. Their laugh the same. I think my other boy come back to me. That what Buddha say, you know. And I think Buddha is right.”

  Ian studied Alak, believing that the man was much stronger than he. “I’m glad you think your boy came back.”

  “Me too,” Mattie added.

  Alak patted her shoulder. “My daughter, she no come back yet. But I hope she soon do. My wife already pregnant again, so maybe my daughter come home, follow her little brother.”

  Mattie nodded. “I think she will
.”

  “Thank you,” he said, smiling. “Now, I take you to Shark Point? I promise, everything fine there. Nothing to worry about.”

  Ian looked at Mattie, then Alak. “Thanks, mate. I reckon we’ll give it a go.”

  Mattie sat down beside him as Alak went back to the engine. Soon they were plowing through the azure waters once again, headed toward a distant beach. Mattie glanced at Alak, glad that they had chosen him and his boat. Though his story about the tsunami had saddened her, she was warmed by the knowledge that his new family pleased him, and that he planned to one day go swimming with his son.

  The journey to Shark Point took only a few minutes. The area, maybe a hundred paces offshore, was protected from waves by a reef that rose several feet higher than the surface of the sea. Above the water, the reef was dark and pockmarked. Mattie looked over the edge of the boat and was surprised that she could see all the way to the bottom. The water was almost perfectly clear.

  “You sure, luv?” Ian asked, her snorkel and mask in his hand.

  Mattie’s heart had started to quicken its pace, but she nodded. “Aye, aye, Captain.”

  Ian helped her put on her fins and other equipment. He looked at Alak, who’d come to the bow to help. “Reckon you’ll take your boy here?”

  Alak nodded. “As often as he like. Do not worry, friend. She will be fine. When you get into water, move closer to reef. Then wait, very still, and sharks will come.”

  Ian smiled at Mattie, shook his head, and eased himself into the water. He looked down, surprised by the many varieties of fish that were so close by. He scanned the bottom for sharks, maybe ten feet down, but didn’t see any. Alak helped Mattie over the side of the boat, setting her gently in the water. “You’re really not scared, Roo?” Ian asked, ready to help her back into the boat.

  “Just hold my hand, Daddy, while we swim to the reef.”

  “Don’t leave me alone out there. I’ll wet my swimsuit.”

  Mattie grasped his fingers as they kicked away from the boat, toward the reef. The water was remarkably calm and clear, reminding her of what it felt like to swim in a pool. But unlike a pool, the water here wasn’t rendered dead by chlorine. Layers of life dominated everything below her. Sea grass twisted to and fro. Clams the size of ovens were partly opened, revealing the purple flesh of the creatures within. Mounds of coral rose from the seafloor, covered with urchins and anemones and fan-shaped objects that moved in tandem with the sea grass. Most prominent were the hundreds of fish that darted about. She didn’t know their names, but they came in all shapes, sizes, and colors. Many seemed painted with colors, rainbows re-created on scales and fins. Some of the fish were long and gray, and possessed sharp teeth. Others resembled the angel fish that Mattie had seen at her dentist’s office, though the fish below were much larger and more vibrant.

  When they reached a sandy area near the reef, Ian stopped kicking, and Mattie did likewise. She continued to watch the beautiful fish, but also scanned the water for sharks. At first she didn’t see any creature longer than her arm, but then gray shadows appeared above the faraway sand. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears as the sharks approached, moving with grace and leisure. The four sharks she saw looked the same, different only in size. They were completely gray, except for the black tips of their dorsal fins. Three of the sharks were smaller than she, but one was much bigger, and clutching her father’s hand with increasing strength, she watched it approach.

  The large shark neared them, about ten feet down and twenty feet away, swimming as if it were gliding on ice. Mattie had never seen anything move with such elegance. The shark was in constant motion, its tail fin swishing back and forth, its body an inch above the seafloor. Though the shark was almost as long as her father, Mattie began to grow less fearful of it. The creature didn’t seem to be interested in her whatsoever.

  Mattie continued to breathe through her snorkel, wishing that her mother could see her. Her mother had tried so hard to teach her how to use a snorkel and mask, and Mattie was sure that she’d be proud of her. Here she was, swimming with sharks, and hardly afraid, hiding behind her father only a little.

  New sharks came and went, immune to the tide, which gently drew Mattie toward the open sea. The smaller sharks moved the fastest, she realized. The big ones didn’t seem to have a care in the world. They swam and circled, never seeming to look up. The sharks kept a respectful distance from her, none approaching closer than the first big one.

  Mattie thought again about her mother, suddenly missing her. She wanted to tell her all about the sharks, about how she was only a little scared, and how she breathed so easily through her snorkel. She longed to be between her mother and father, with each of them holding one of her hands. Then she’d be laughing, and they’d follow the biggest shark as it moved around this beautiful world.

  She remembered Alak’s words—how the wave had come and taken his family away. She didn’t understand why waves came to some families and not others, why her friends complained that they didn’t have iPods when her mother was dead. It isn’t fair, she thought. Mommy was taken away and I didn’t even get to say good-bye.

  Tears formed in Mattie’s eyes, and because she couldn’t wipe them away, they began to sting. She tugged on her father’s hand, pointing toward the longboat. He nodded, twisting, kicking in that direction. She took a final look at the sharks and then watched the boat draw nearer. Because she didn’t want her father to think she was afraid, she took off her mask and splashed water on her face. Alak put an iron ladder over the side, and she tossed her fins into the boat and awkwardly climbed the ladder, followed by her father.

  “What a bloody bunch of beauts!” he said, his grin wide and pure.

  “I know!” Mattie replied, also trying to be happy, to be what he needed.

  “They were just mucking around down there. Like a bunch of blokes in a pub.”

  “Did you see that big one? With the scar on his fin?”

  “See him? I reckon he was about to kiss me.”

  Mattie looked into the water but couldn’t find the sharks. “Thanks, Daddy. Thanks for showing me what you and Mommy saw.”

  “You’re welcome, Roo. My pleasure.”

  She rubbed her eyes, which still stung from the salt of the sea and her tears. “Can we go to that beach? The beautiful one where no one is? I want to draw something for Mommy.”

  He set her sunglasses in her hand. “Put on your sunnies, luv. They’ll help.”

  “But, Daddy, can we go to that beach?”

  Looking more closely at her, he searched for how she was feeling. “Here,” he said, patting the plank beside him, “have a seat by your captain.”

  “Aye, aye.”

  Ian put his arm around her and turned to Alak. “When my better half and I were here, years ago, there was a beach, on another island. It was lovely, with cliffs on almost every side.”

  “I know this beach.”

  “Can you take us there?”

  Alak smiled, nodded, and moved back to the engine.

  Ian continued to hold Mattie as the longboat sped up. Even though the day was warm, the wind produced goose bumps on her flesh, and he wrapped a towel around her. “Are you thinking about your mum?” he asked, noting how her gaze had become expressionless.

  “Yes.”

  “You know, it’s all right, Roo, to feel down. Even though we’re in a beautiful place. Even though we had fun with the sharks. Sometimes that happens to me too.”

  “It does?”

  “More than I want.”

  “Will I ever be happy again, Daddy? Like I used to be?”

  He wrapped his arms around her, lifting her up and setting her on his lap. She’d grown almost too big to hold in such a way, but he leaned his back against the side of the boat and pulled her snug against him. “You’ll be happy, Roo. So bloody happy. Like a kitty chasing a cricket.”

  She shook her head, thinking about how she never used to cry, back when her mother was alive. “I don’t believ
e you.”

  “Life is hard, luv, full of ups and downs. We’re down now, but we’ll come up. Remember what Akiko said about the seasons? How we were in the winter of our lives? I reckon she was right. And one of these days the snow will melt.”

  “I just . . . I want to go back to the way it was.”

  He kissed the top of her head, wiping a tear from her cheek. “I know you do. I feel the same.”

  “I try to be happy. I really do. But I’m not.”

  “But, luv, it’s not a race to be happy. You can’t rush it.”

  “It’s not fair.”

  “I know,” he replied, her tears causing his stomach to ache. “You have a wound, Roo. And it won’t ever completely heal. Never. But someday you’ll have your own family, your own loves. And the . . . the sorrows of today will make you appreciate the loves of tomorrow even more.” He kissed the top of her head again as waves crashed into the bow.

  “I heard you crying this morning,” she said, putting her fingers on his restless thumb.

  “Oh. Sorry about that.”

  “It’s okay.”

  He closed his eyes, wishing that he could be stronger, knowing that his pains weren’t helping hers. “Two things get me through this, luv.”

  “What?”

  “Well, you, of course. My love for you . . . it fills so much of the hole in me. And each day it fills more.”

  She nodded, resting her head against his shoulder. “What else?”

  “Helping people. Your mum . . . she let me work hard. She took care of you so beautifully. I never had to worry about either of you. And because of that I made a fair bit of loot. Now, I’m not proud of that, and I’d do things differently if I could hop back in time. But at least that loot will let me . . . will let us help people. And that helps me, because a speck of good has come from me being gone so much. Away from you and your mum.”