“Of what?”
“Nothing, really.”
Annie saw that his face lacked its usual vigor, and she wondered what troubled him. She sat beside him on the rock, holding his hand and watching the waves break below. She expected him to speak, and when he didn’t, she shifted uncomfortably. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No.”
A large wave broke violently against the rock, froth rising before them. “Is that the only response I get?” she asked. “A one-word answer?”
He sighed, unsure if he should tell her what happened with Roger. Were he in Japan, he’d have shouldered the situation alone. But Annie wanted to know everything, and he was afraid of betraying her trust by keeping things from her. He also felt that the truth might help protect her. “You must be careful around Roger,” he finally replied.
“What does that mean? Akira, what does that mean?”
He looked toward the sky, which was finally starting to clear. “There are men who like to hurt people. And Roger is such a man.”
“Did he threaten me? Did he?”
“He threatened us.”
“How?”
He shook his head slowly. “I have met such men before. I have seen them kill, and I have killed them.”
She sat straighter at this response, surprised at this revelation. “Where?”
“Nanking.”
“You were there?”
“For too long, so sorry to say.”
Annie had heard rumors of the atrocities. But so many rumors floated about—tales of Hitler’s dream to kill every Jew in Europe, stories of Japanese bayoneting thousands of prisoners and civilians, whispers of a secret weapon being built in America that could destroy the world. To Annie, these rumors were too unspeakably awful to be true, even though she feared they might be. “What happened?” she finally asked.
He closed his eyes for a moment. “Remember that first night, when I carried you here?”
“You said that you were reaching for . . . an angel. You said that she saved you.”
“She was a young Chinese girl. Perhaps eight or nine years old.” Suddenly seeing her battered face, Akira paused, his body going limp, his eyes tearing. “A group of men . . . a group of Japanese soldiers had found her. They had started . . . started to beat her. I . . . I saw them. She looked at me and . . . with her look she begged me to help. At first I tried. But there were too many soldiers and . . . and . . . may she forgive me, I turned away.”
Annie reached for his hand, which was unresponsive to her touch. “And what happened?”
He again closed his eyes, prompting a tear to tumble down his face. “And . . . and those men . . . those beasts . . . raped her. And they killed her. And I saw . . . hell that day. Nanking was hell.”
She squeezed his hand. She’d seen too many children maimed by war, and the thought of a girl enduring such a heinous fate made her cry. Shuddering quietly, she leaned against him. “And in the water . . . you saw this little girl?” she asked softly, wondering how God could allow such a crime, sad and sickened that such stories had too often reached her ears.
“Yes. She came to me. She . . . she reached out her hand and it seemed that she was well.”
Annie watched his tears, watched the breeze ruffle his hair. “How did you survive . . . that?”
Akira sadly shook his head. “The body can survive, yes, while the soul dies?”
“I think so.”
“I went back . . . later that day. And I found . . . her body.” He released his hand from Annie’s and put his fingers against his eyes. “She was . . . no longer was she a little girl,” he said, weeping. “And I carried her to a garden . . . to a quiet place. I found a new dress . . . and put it on her. I cleaned her face. I straightened her hair. I . . . I placed a toy horse in her hands. And I prayed. And then I burned her . . . until her ashes could be blown away. Blown away to a far better place.”
Annie put her head against his shoulder, her tears cool against her face. “And then?”
He sighed, remembering how he’d wiped the blood from her, how his hands had trembled uncontrollably. “And then,” he said, his voice hardening, “I found the beasts who had ruined her and I killed them. Most of them, at least.”
“You did?”
“So sorry, but I am good at killing. I have saved only a few, but I have killed many.”
“You saved me,” she said, aware that his mind was tumbling into the darkest of places and wanting to protect him from that fall. She recaptured his hand within her own. “And you saved Isabelle.”
“So few.”
“Did you . . . did you know that she’s pregnant?”
He looked to her, his eyes bloodshot. “No.”
“So you also saved her child.”
Akira nodded absently. He watched waves die and be reborn beneath him. “I am glad,” he finally said, “to have saved her child.”
Annie held his hand, stroking his flesh with her thumb. For a long time they sat together and watched the world before them. A flock of gulls had gathered on the water and rose and fell with the waves. The birds were talkative, their cries carrying over the sea.
“What will we do about Roger?” Annie finally asked. “I’d rather . . . you not kill him.”
Akira looked at her. “You are sure, yes?”
“Yes.”
“Then I will not kill him. But I will talk to the captain. And later, if Roger comes for you, I will kill him, Annie. I will kill him a thousand times before I let him hurt you.”
“Because of what happened in Nanking?”
“Yes,” he said quietly, his hand finally stirring within hers. “And also because I cannot imagine the world without you in it. Because you make me . . . you make me understand why the old poets wrote so much of love.”
THE SUN FINALLY REAPPEARED, just before dusk. Since they had moved to the east side of the island, they could no longer enjoy sunsets. The clouds above them merely glowed and then slowly darkened, as if the sun was their air supply and without it they suffocated. The wind and sea had almost completely gone still, and the island seemed to stand proudly in the young night, having survived another typhoon. The storm that had sunk ships, toppled buildings, and killed hundreds of humans had done little more than rid the island of its dead and dying trees.
As on the other beach, the survivors had fashioned a fire pit that could be seen from neither air nor sea. Near this pit rose a large, orderly pile of driftwood. In case Scarlet spotted an American ship, Joshua wanted to be ready to light a signal. Around the fire pit, the survivors ate a dinner of dried fish and fresh mango. Though finding fruit on this side of the island had been a pleasant discovery, Ratu and Jake had spent much of the afternoon fishing in the rough waters near the cave and had almost nothing to show for their efforts.
Overall, the mood at camp was upbeat. After two days of being confined to the cave, the fresh air and clear sky were welcome tidings. And though only fruit and dried fish filled their bellies, fewer bugs and other such irritants thrived on this beach than on the other. Also, the typhoon hadn’t destroyed their lifeboat or any important supplies. Everything had been carried into the cave and was now secure.
While Roger sat on a distant rock and obsessed over his aching head, the other eight survivors spoke about what they’d do after the war. Most everyone had a clear vision of what such a future would bring. Nathan wanted to open a deli. Jake spoke of visiting Ratu’s village before returning to Missouri. Scarlet was tired of being a nurse, and hoped to attend beauty school. Though Joshua had been in the navy for more than a decade and was weary of the war, he didn’t know what he might do were he a civilian. Isabelle decided to keep her pregnancy a secret and spoke of remaining a nurse. Hardly surprising to those who knew her well, Annie wasn’t sure what she’d do. Akira hoped to again teach, and Ratu wanted to be taught.
Everyone expected not to remain stranded for long. Joshua had repeatedly told them of the island’s strategic importance, of how th
e battle of the South Pacific was going to be won or lost around the Solomon Islands. He was convinced that if they could hide from the Japanese, they’d be rescued by Americans. All they had to do was wait and signal a passing American warship or aircraft.
After the survivors spoke about returning to their former lives, they continued to plan for how they’d ensure their well-being on the island. Unlike the previous day, when Joshua had done the majority of the talking, most everyone seemed to have an opinion on most every subject. Exchanges were pleasant, though, and ultimately people looked to Joshua to make whatever decisions were necessary.
His faith in himself slightly renewed, Joshua smiled encouragingly at Scarlet when she suggested a means of signaling toward the cave if she spotted something from her perch atop a nearby hill. “I need something shiny,” she said, finishing a mango. “It’s so bright up there. And we can create some sort of code.”
“Like the moose code?” Ratu replied excitedly. “Can’t we do that, Captain?”
“Morse code is a bit tricky,” Joshua said, gently correcting him. “But I like your idea. What do you have in mind, my first lieutenant?”
Ratu glanced at the distant hill, trying to quickly come up with an answer. “I know!” he said. “What if Miss Scarlet has two shiny things? If she sees an American ship, she can flash both. If she sees the Japanese, she only flashes one. What do you think, Captain?”
Joshua nodded. “I think it’s brilliant. All we have to do is—” His words died abruptly as a yellow flash burst over the distant sea. Stepping toward the water, he peered into the growing darkness. Another orb of light flared, illuminating the clouds. Suddenly, the space above the sea was dominated by yellow and orange flashes that appeared like sudden drops of paint on a black canvas.
“What is it?” Isabelle asked, taking Joshua’s arm, trying to remember where the binoculars rested but deciding to leave them be.
“A battle,” he replied uneasily, the crack and crackle of distant explosions finally traveling to his ears. “Our ships against their ships,” he added, inwardly lamenting the confrontation, as he knew that the advanced technology of the Japanese made them better night fighters than his countrymen.
The array of explosions intensified. Entire sections of the sea were inundated with light. The air was rife with the pop of shells being fired and the louder clap of explosions. One area seemed to blaze with light. Several large orange orbs billowed outward from this space.
“What’s happening?” Annie asked. “Joshua?”
His unblinking eyes remained fastened to the sight. “A ship is being sunk,” he said absently, his fingers moving back and forth as if on a rosary bead. “A big ship.”
Like the finale of a fireworks display, the number and size of explosions intensified. Annie moved to Akira’s side, thinking of men who were dying, wishing that Benevolence was nearby so that some of these men could be saved. Even from miles away she could almost feel the force of the explosions. She’d treated the wounded from battles such as this one—men whose clothes and skin had been burnt away, whose frail bodies had been savaged by almost incomprehensible weaponry. She wanted to turn and hurry back to the cave, but couldn’t leave the sight before her.
The battle reached its climax—with a seemingly endless barrage of explosions erupting on each side. Several more ships appeared to catch fire. These burning pyres resembled little more than candle flames atop the water. But Joshua knew that each flame likely represented the death of a ship and hundreds of men. The flames gradually diminished as the mortally wounded ships disappeared into the sea. The frequency of explosions gradually lessened, and the night turned black again.
After the battle, no one moved for some time. Even Roger stood transfixed, watching the distant horizon, his headache and hate temporarily forgotten. He wondered if Edo’s ship had been involved in the conflict, and if so, how that would affect his stay on the island. Resolving to make radio contact the next day, he continued to study the scene before him.
After a few minutes, Akira turned to Annie, Isabelle, and Joshua. “It fills the air, yes?” he said quietly.
“What does?” Annie asked.
“The breeze brings it to us,” he replied, all too aware of the taint of battle.
Annie breathed deeply and, sure enough, she smelled something foreign in the air—the stench of burning oil and paint and a hundred other such things. After growing accustomed to the sweet scent of the island, she found the odor of battle overwhelming. She realized that the air around Benevolence must have smelled the same, but she hadn’t been aware of it.
Making the sign of the cross, Joshua began to pray for the dead and dying. Isabelle and Annie followed his lead. Akira lowered his head to honor those who’d fallen. The four of them stood motionless, and all was still but for the waves and the fire.
Nearby, Scarlet and Nathan spoke softly about how they’d seen too many such sights, about how they worried that the war would steal their loved ones. Their words prompted Ratu to think of his father, and he took Jake’s hand and walked back to the cave. He felt guilty for being glad that his father wasn’t on one of the ships, for his relief that it wasn’t his father who was dying. And so he gripped Jake’s hand tightly as he glanced behind and saw that Annie, Isabelle, Joshua, and Akira still hadn’t moved.
Feeling nauseous and quite tired, Ratu lay on the palm fronds that comprised his bed. Jake moved beside him, placing his arm over Ratu’s shoulders. Though they weren’t far from the fire, Ratu felt chilled. Closing his eyes, he inched away from the fire and toward the warmth of his friend.
DAY FOURTEEN
Does the bee in fall
Know that a frost is nearing?
Do skies prefer blue?
An Imminent Arrival
After its three-day banishment, the sun returned in earnest. On this side of the island dawn came powerfully, the distant ocean seeming to bleed. Like fire consuming a dry forest, the crimson sky expanded, red tendrils blazing as the color spread westward. Waves lapped feebly at the shoreline, as if they’d exhausted all their energy during the storm and had nothing left to offer.
Akira and Joshua were often the first to rise, and this morning had been no different. Upon seeing the captain tending to the fire, Akira had quietly asked if they might go for a walk. And so they’d left the camp and proceeded north along the coast, circumventing tide pools and crossing small patches of sand. As they walked, Joshua repeatedly looked to the sea, scanning for any ships that survived the battle. Only the ocean’s pale face greeted him.
Akira pointed out a marooned sea urchin, taking care to avoid it. He found it interesting that such an outwardly menacing creature could have such a beautiful white structure within. Turning toward Joshua, he said, “I wish to thank you for treating me well.”
“Is that why we’re here?”
“We are here to take a walk, yes? A walk during a beautiful dawn.”
“If you say so.”
They took a few more steps, and Akira said, “You have good men, Captain. And women. And you lead them well.”
Joshua glanced toward Akira. “Thank you.” After a slight pause he asked, “Did you lead men?”
“Yes, though not many. Not nearly enough, so sorry to say.”
Believing that ultimately the leaders of the war would decide its outcome, Joshua studied Akira, as he had many times before. Wanting to test him once again, he asked, “What will you do if Japanese land here?”
“I will be honest with you, Captain; I do not want to betray my people. I hope that your countrymen land here rather than mine.”
“But if they don’t?”
Akira exhaled deeply. “In war, alliances sometimes change, yes? You now fight with the Russians when you could easily be fighting against them.”
Joshua thought about the great German armies that had been advancing on Stalingrad when Benevolence was sunk. A million men were attacking the city, and a million were defending it. Yes, Joshua thought, we coul
d be fighting the Russians instead of sending them thousands of jeeps, rifles, and tanks. And, God help us, if that were true, we’d almost certainly lose. “Hitler should never have marched east,” he agreed. “But what can you expect from a madman?”
“True. But will the Red Army fall?”
“I don’t think so. The Russians have too many men. And Stalin doesn’t mind sending millions to their deaths to stop the German advance.” Joshua spied a flat rock, bent down, and sent it skipping into the sea. “So you’re telling me that you’re switching alliances?”
“Not from my country to your country.”
“What then?”
“From my leaders to you.”
Joshua looked for another rock, stalling to give himself time to think. “Why should I believe this?”
Akira spied a suitable stone and handed it to Joshua. “May I tell you a story?”
“Of course.”
“It is not quick.”
“I’m in no hurry.”
Akira nodded, clasping his hands together. “As you must know, one day after Pearl Harbor, we invaded Thailand. I was in southern Thailand. In places like this, near the sea. I led a squad of men, and we occupied a small village. Unlike what we did in China or Korea, we were good to the Thais. We paid them for food. We paid them to work. And most of them did not hate us.” Akira paused, wishing that other invasions had been as bloodless. “My squad was in this village for three months. And one of my men . . . he . . . grew close to a Thai woman. He did not tell me this, of course, but I could see what was happening. I liked this man. His grandfather and father had made kimonos, and such should have been his fate. One day, a week before we were to leave the village, this man and woman disappeared. A boat was missing. His gun and uniform and helmet remained on the beach.”
“What did you do?”
Akira smiled faintly. “I did nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“I never mentioned his disappearance to my men, and I reported to my superior that he had died of malaria.”