“We’re there!” screamed Rose. “Look, off in the distance. There’s the island.” The other stared in the distance, trying to follow the trajectory of Rose’s extended finger.
Daks squinted. Talon shield the setting the sun from his eyes. Willow curled her eyebrows. “Yep, I see nothing,” mutter Daks. The other two nodded in agreement. Then, a haze lifted in the distance, and just as Rose proclaimed, an island emerged on the horizon.
A vibrant, greenish bank circled the land mass. The grassy island edge glimmered life. Just beyond the bank, thick woods provided an unwelcoming visage. At the center of the smallish isle, emerged a rocky peak, which rose slightly above the tall pine trees that nestled around the stony pinnacle. The island’s appearance bespoke both beauty and caution. The grass ring, tall pines, and rocky peak intertwined magnificently; the landscape echoed an intention to its alignment. While the rest of Centage revealed an elegance that arises from the convergence and divergence of competing realities, the island glistened from a unilateral intention. Simply put, the island elicited thoughts of the Creator, something that stood beyond the creation. Further, the isle’s appearance, while elegant in its creation, lacked a welcoming presence. It resembled someone in authority rather than the home of friend. The stone-crested island exuded a place of purpose, not a place of happenstance.
“Fantastic,” droned Daks, “now we have an island.”
“You can be so depressing,” said Talon.
“Does that thing look kind of scary to anyone else?” asked Willow. A pregnant silence followed her question. The island, by appearances alone, drifted between mesmerizing and petrifying.
Finally, after the long pause, Rose said, “Yep, I think you are on to something.” Her tone, however, declared both recognition of the isle’s intimidating presence and the forthcoming resolution to the third challenge. The image before them mattered not to her. Their task, regardless of the unwelcoming natural vista remained unchanged: get to the island and get what they came to get.
Talon charged off in the direction of the landmass. Willow noted Talon’s renewed travel and quick-stepped to catch up with him. Rose quietly followed and joined the other two. Daks look around in an exaggerated form, pausing as if to question what happened to the people around him. “I guess giving up is not really an option for these people,” he muttered to himself. With that, he bolted toward the others, who traveled some distance ahead. “Wait up,” he bellowed toward them. Only Willow slowed. The others ignored his theatrics.
Hours later, Talon, Rose, and Willow sat on the shore looking directly across from Sporadic Island. All three breathed heavily because of their hasty effort to reach the shoreline directly across from the island, and having arrives, they look exhausted. Further, the island was just that – an island. Water separated them from their destination.
“Should we swim to island?” asked Rose. “I think that I could make it there.”
“That is just it,” responded Talon, “You ‘think’ you can make it there. I ‘think’ we need an idea for reaching the island that does not involve us risking our lives. This quest of ours is hazardous enough without jumping headlong into danger. There must be a better way.”
“Does it seem like the distance to the island is getting more and more?” asked Willow. “When we first arrived, it looked closer than it does now. I, like Rose, thought it looked within swimming distance, but now, it keeps getting further and further away. The water continues to overtake the beach.”
“Yea,” agreed Rose, “I think you are right. It does seem like the island keeps moving further into the ocean.”
Talon muttered to himself, “Fantastic, just what we need – a moving island.” He then directed his comments to the others, “Well, let’s think of something to get us there. If we could get Daks to the top of an ice mountain, how I think we throw together a dingy.” Talon wiped the sweat from his face. He, like the other two, looked beleaguered from the hours they spent racing along the shoreline. Plus, heat and humidity filled the air. The coolness of the mountains and the dryness of the desert seemed ages ago. The thought of making anything in this thick, hot air weighed heavy upon him. But who else, Talon thought, would be willing to solve this dilemma? Rose? Not Rose, her abilities emerged spontaneously and depended heavily upon the circumstances. This task required diligence and Rose’s attention often waivered long before completing any project. Willow? I still did not trust her. Additionally, she looks so young, despite her poise. Daks? Not him, Daks, at best, trudged two steps behind everyone else. For all his effort on the Five-Point Peak, I think he regrets leaving our village. I think he find the authority of the Protectorate somewhat comforting. Daks appears more intent on getting back to our village rather than overthrowing the Protectorate. Our present goals may overlap, but our long-term hopes differ.
Wallowing in self-pity, Talon mumbled to the other something about making a raft and suggesting the others get some rest. When Rose and Willow followed his suggestion, he stewed and began working on a raft, all the while mumbling about his “three near-worthless companions.”
Talon conjured an idea. He began collecting tree limbs and planned to assemble the pieces into a viable raft. The exact plan eluded him. Finding suitable branches for his project was nearly impossible. Even with the help of the glowing ice axe, their herbal surroundings provided a dearth of supplies other than dried seaweed, scorched grass, and brittle shrubs.
Rose and Willow joined Talon in his effort, hoping to relieve his frustration. They, like him, collected useless driftwood and made a large pile of nature’s scrap. The heap looked more like a pathetic bonfire than a raft-in-the-making. Yet, the three youths continued to pile worthless twigs and branches. The two girls just followed Talon, while he continued more from self-loathing than anything else. All the while, Daks just rested on the shore and peered into the horizon. Talon lofted a number of verbal jabs in his direction – “it would be great everyone would help” and “this would go faster with four people” and things like that – but Talon never directly confronted his traveling companion. That was not Talon’s style, at least not yet. Both Rose and Willow would have confronted Daks in an instant, but neither girl truly believed in the current project. They followed Talon because, at this point, they preferred peace to hostility.
Talon finally reached his limit with the lethargic Daks. He screamed at him, “What is your problem? Why don’t you get off your cheeks and help us! We are all slaving away while you are lounging around!” Talon felt relief and embarrassment after revealing his frustration.
“What took so long, Talon?” muttered Willow. “We expected those comments two hours ago.”
Rose was relieved that she managed to avoid the tussle. She understood Talon’s frustration. Daks just relaxed and stared off while the other worked feverishly to build a raft. All the while, the distance between the beach and island only increased. Nevertheless, she did not blame Daks for taking a pass on their raft-building effort. The futile enterprise provided only a veneer of accomplishment. Rose guessed that even Talon knew they were pursuing an impotent idea, which explained his silence toward Daks.
Talon continued his diatribe, “Not going to get the island by staring at it? Are we? Maybe we can just wish it over here. Can you wish the island over here to us, Daks? Can you? Because, right now, that is all you are doing?”
“What took so long for you to realize that?” quipped Daks in a lighthearted, but non-confrontational, tone. Talon tried to respond but Daks continued in a singsong voice, “I guess I noticed something that all of the ‘magic’ workers did not. While walking along the shore for these many days, I noticed something that the ‘wonder-workers’ apparently missed.” Daks finally returned to his normal voice. “The water rises and retreats along the seashore. For parts of the day, the water submerges the beach, and then, at other times of the day, the waterline retreats into the ocean – increasing the size of the beach. The water comes up. The water
goes down. It happens every day. I have no idea why. It makes no sense to me, but I know it happens. Did none of you notice this?”
Daks looked at the other three. They shook their heads. The increasing distance between the island and the shore suddenly made sense to them. The water was changing – not the land. Daks smiled slightly, obviously pleased to make a discovery that the other missed. “Well,” he started again, “from my observations, I think the water reached its zenith a half-hour ago. Further, I think that as the water retreats, the beach on the land will connect with the beach on the island.” The older boy paused for a moment realizing the internal contradiction of his last statement. He continued, “Well, I guess the island would no longer be an island, would it?” He paused for a moment giving the others a chance to answer the questions. They said nothing, still smarting from his observations. “So anyway, by my best estimates, the island and the land – oops, I did it again – will connect sometime tomorrow morning. You all can certainly continue on your little raft project. I think it is a noble effort. I, on the other hand, am going to sit myself on the beach and enjoy this beautiful afternoon, and when the morning comes, I plan to trot over there.” He pointed toward the island. “You can certainly trot with me, if you like.”
“When were you planning on telling us?” barked Talon.
“Whenever you asked,” explained Daks.
“Were you just going to let the three of us work all day and all night?” snapped Talon.
Willow entered the fracas, “No, Talon, you were. Don’t blame Daks because we wasted our afternoon. Just be happy we can enjoy our evening.”
“And be extra happy,” offered Rose, “that we do need to use twigs from our campfire to build a boat.” She motioned toward the pile of brush that was supposed to be the raw materials for their raft.
Talon stormed off. While Rose and Willow easily laughed off their blunder, he felt more shame than humor at his foolish raft-building endeavor. The other three milled silently around the shore. Since their de facto leader appeared frustrated, they felt obligated to appear frustrated. They said nothing to each other and spent the next few minutes on inane tasks. Daylight faded. The sun’s rays no longer burned their skin, and the yellow spherical glow crept closer toward the horizon. Eventide approached, and Willow interrupted the awkward silence. She declared in voice just above a whisper, “I hope Talon does not bluster around like this all evening. If anything, he should be overjoyed that we do not have to construct a raft out of driftwood. That was a project destined for failure. Am I right or am I right?” Talon quietly re-emerged from behind Willow and walked toward her. Daks and Rose both saw Talon, but Willow, whose back shielded her vision of the older boy, did not notice his re-emergence. If she had, she undoubtedly would have stopped talking. “Of course I am right,” she continued. “Look at the rubbish we were collecting. Which one of would have climbed on a raft made of that riff-raff? Not me, I can tell you that much. I have only one life, and I have no plans to just toss it away.”
Talon stood directly behind the tow-headed girl, but she still did not notice his arrival. Daks and Rose could have alerted her, but tacitly decided the entertainment value of Willow’s critique surpassed the need to alert her. Despite Talon’s blustery attitude a few minutes before, both knew Talon would not react too angrily toward Willow, and even if he did throw a fit, both knew Talon never stayed hostile for too long.
Willow continued seamlessly, “Sure Talon has some great ideas, but this one stunk like a two-day dead cow.” Talon, at least a head taller than the younger girl, glared over her head. The glowering face revealed his every thought. Nevertheless, Willow continued completely unaware of his presence, “Really, what was he thinking? Perhaps, he was going to make wings and flap his way to the island. Yes, yes, that must be it. Talon, the bird-man, soars to neighboring island.” Talon face turned a deep shade of crimson, which given his deep olive complexion, seldom happened. “If Talon thinks himself the bird-man, perhaps he should tell us. Then again, perhaps the bird-man want to keep that secret. I guess we all hide a few secrets, but if were a bird-girl, I would tell you. Call me ‘feather-girl.’ If I’m ‘feather-girl,’ what should we call Talon? Any ideas, Rose? Daks, surely you have a suggestion.” Rose and Daks said nothing.
As Willow waited for an answer, Talon whispered, “I have an idea.” His barely-audible voice unsettled the others. If he screamed, at least then there would be an emotional release. The whisper, however, only highlighted his anger. Rose, likely against her better judgment, began to snicker. She really wanted to laugh, and she really wanted to maintain a stoic persona. Facing an internal struggle between the two, laughter easily prevailed. Upon hearing her laugh, Daks embarked upon the impossible effort to silence his giggles. He smirked, then squirmed, the put his head down, and then held his lips together as his cheeks filled with air, and then … erupted in laughter. With his composure lost, Rose now succumbed to her instincts, and like Daks, burst into laughter.
Talon’s countenance remained stoic. The sixteen-year old boy continued to glare down at Willow, who now looked even younger than her eleven years. Willow turned and faced the enraged older boy, but glanced to the side rather than match his glare. Daks, however, now seemed unaware of anything other than Rose’s laughter. He ran around the others singing, “I am Talon, the bird-man.” His armed flapped at his side. After a few laps, Daks paused and asked, “What shall you call me? Give me a name.” He waited a moment and then crowed, “Call me Talon. Yes, that is my name, Talon, the bird-man.” Daks then crooked his pointer fingers to resemble a bird’s talon and began slice aimlessly through the air. “I am Talon. Who dares oppose the boy named after a bird’s fingernail?”
Talon’s countenance burned. His emotions exploded past the threshold of idea and expression. Instead of anger, however, Talon collapsed in laughter. With that, the other three joined him in a romping-good laughing fit. The laughed long. They laughed hard. Muscles strained in their face from excessive smiling. They giggled and wiggled. They could not stop, and they knew not why. On a couple of occasions, the moment seemed to have finally passed, only to person’s snicker initiate more uncontrollable group laughter. After, what seemed hours but must have surely been much less, they grew weary, and the laughing finally ceased.
The JRB spent the remainder of the evening in fabulous spirits. They joked. They laughed. They ate. They talked. They shared. They commiserated. They rejoiced. And finally, amidst much joy, they slept. Looking back, many years later, Willow thought this evening was the last day of her childhood. In reflection, she smiled at their simplistic appreciation of one another. She marveled at their naïve understanding of the tasks before them.
The first streaks of light spread over the horizon as the morning sun eagerly peered over the horizon. Talon, who could never sleep once the sun rose into the sky, began to wake from a wonderful night’s sleep. The jocular evening left his refreshed this morning. With a few streaks or early morning light, he investigated Dak’s theory, and sure enough, the sea continued its retreat through the nighttime hours. Within a couple of hours, the group could stroll to the Sporadic Island. He looked at the other three. Each of them slept soundly. “Let them rest,” he thought. “They will need it. Today finished the third task.”
“Wake up,” he gently called out two hours later. “It is almost time to go.” The others quickly roused and instinctually began their morning duties. Through many nights under glimmering sky of Centage, they learned to sleep soundly, pack quickly, and move stealthily. None of those things were going to help them on this day.
After completing the morning routine, the group walked toward Sporadic Island. As Daks postulated the previous afternoon, the retreating waters revealed a path to the landmass. The impatient group, however, waded through waist-deep water to reach their destination.
“Welcome to Sporadic Island. Now what?” asked Willow. Everyone turned to Talon.
T
alon responded, “Let’s go scale a cliff.” He briskly proceeded toward the heart of the island. He weaved between shrubs, brush, and small trees as the others trailed behind him. The group came to a steep hill and easily trekked the arching ground. After so many days with the ground beneath their feet and bags upon their back, their bodies easily completed physical tasks. The pace and focus bespoke an expertise forged through experience. After a quick two hours, the JRB ascended the small mountain and came upon a bluff overlooking much of the island.
18 THE RED KITE