Read Uncharted Page 7


  “What’s your story, Owen?” James asked while we were eating. “Calia said you’re from California and that you’ve been here a whole year already.”

  “No story. Just felt like getting away,” I said. “I go back to the mainland often enough that I’m never really bored.”

  “But don’t you have a job? How do you afford the supplies then, mate? And the seaplane?”

  “James,” Calia scolded. “Don’t be nosey.”

  “It’s okay,” I said. I turned toward James. “I planned ahead. Set some money aside. I can leave anytime.”

  “So you just left everything behind and came here?”

  “Pretty much.”

  I’d been thinking a lot about what I might want to do next. I’d considered and then discarded half a dozen ideas. Nothing seemed interesting enough to convince me to start making plans. But going home to California hadn’t even made the short list.

  “I’m going for a swim,” Calia announced. “Come with me, you lazy boys.”

  I was feeling a big sluggish after our meal, and apparently so was James. I wasn’t surprised; I’d never seen someone eat so much in one sitting. Something told me he wasn’t quite done growing yet.

  “I’ll join you in a few minutes, as soon as my stomach settles,” he said.

  “Same here,” I echoed. She walked away, and I couldn’t help but appreciate the view of Calia’s backside in that tiny bikini.

  James stretched out on the sand. “I know you thought you were only inviting Calia, so thanks for not minding that I came along,” he said.

  “No problem.”

  “I couldn’t have let her come here alone.”

  Though he was only eighteen, I got the impression that James took his role as Calia’s protector very seriously. “Of course not,” I said.

  “And she really wanted to come.”

  “She did?” I asked. I tried to make my voice sound bored, as if I really didn’t care if she came or not. But something inside me perked up when he said that.

  “Yeah. She said it sounded like the experience of a lifetime. The only time I’ve ever heard her more excited is when she talks about Africa. She loves Africa.”

  I looked toward the water. Calia was doing handstands and somersaults, and diving under the surface. I’d noticed that she rarely sat still. She’d fidgeted throughout lunch and always seemed to be moving. She must have noticed me watching her because she cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled, “Hurry up!”

  James slowly raised his head when he heard her voice. Noticing his sister waiting impatiently for us to join her, he said, “Might as well get up. She’s relentless.”

  “Is she always this energetic?” I asked.

  He laughed and said, “Always.”

  Journal entry

  June 5, 2001

  James and Calia have been here for one week. I’m still not entirely sure why Calia wanted to come. She had to convince her brother to come with her, because there was no way he would have let her come alone. It would be great if part of the reason she wanted to come here was me.

  She loves the dolphins. James loves to snorkel. I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time.

  Journal entry

  June 7, 2001

  I let Calia and James have the tent, and I’m sleeping in the house. I told them they were welcome to join me, but the tent is more comfortable and the house isn’t quite as inviting, especially at night. Maybe I can convince Calia to have a sleepover some night. I’m probably delusional.

  Journal entry

  June 8, 2001

  Calia and I went swimming today. Not just messing around in the water, like we do all the time, but lap swimming. She held her own as we raced across the lagoon. When we finally stopped, both of us were breathing hard. I noticed her chest rising and falling with each breath, and I couldn’t help but stare. She caught me looking, I know she did, but she didn’t act like it bothered her.

  I’ve never gone this long without sex, and I have never been this horny in my entire life, not even when I first figured out what sex was all about. But out of respect for James, I’m not going to make a move on his sister right in front of him. I can’t imagine that being anything other than awkward.

  But I will sure as hell capitalize on it if she makes one first.

  Chapter 10

  T.J.

  The look on Owen’s face right now, as he tells us about Calia and how he felt about her, what he hoped would happen between them, reminds me of the way I felt about Anna. How as time went by I hoped that something might happen between us, as ridiculous as that sounded because how could she ever see me as anything but a boy? How could she ever love me?

  I remember watching her as I got older, searching for a change in the way she looked at me or the words she said. Anything that would let me know that she might feel the same way about me as I did about her. We lived under the constant threat of something going wrong, but nothing could erase the happiness I felt the day I discovered that Anna wanted me. When she told me it wasn’t a one-time thing. How each day after that became easier because she was mine.

  It all seemed so unfair, though. I loved her and she loved me, but our time together, as perfect as it was, would be cut short because we were both slowly starting to die. I remember Anna in her yellow bikini, so thin I could see every one of her ribs. I remember the smell of her hair the day I burned off eight inches of it. The look in her eyes on Christmas Day, when I realized she’d started to give up. The panic and fear that swept through me was worse than the fear I felt when the plane went down because there was no way to save ourselves this time.

  There is nothing worse than realizing you’re about to watch the girl that you’ve fallen in love with die.

  And suddenly I have a very bad feeling about what Owen is going to tell us.

  Chapter 11

  Owen

  “Owen.” Calia shook my shoulder, jarring me from sleep. “Wake up.”

  I kept my eyes shut. If I opened them it would be like admitting defeat.

  “Let’s go swimming,” she said.

  I liked to get up early, and Calia did, too. But I discovered that her idea and my idea of early were still about an hour apart. She’d started coming to the house at the crack of dawn to wake me up. James, however, rarely surfaced before noon. While I liked the alone time with her, I was experiencing a significant sleep deficit. Thank God I was covered by my sleeping bag from the waist down, otherwise she would have been able to see the condition I woke up in every morning, which was currently rock hard.

  She started tickling me. Normally I would have hated that, but since she was touching me and I could imagine her hands doing other things I didn’t really mind all that much. I opened my eyes and grabbed her hand, holding it firmly. “If I get up will you stop tickling me?”

  She gave me a huge smile and nodded. “Now you’re coming around.”

  “Is there coffee?” I’d shown her how to use the camp stove. Maybe she’d already started the water boiling.

  “Maybe,” she said, drawing the word out. She tickled my ribs one more time and then bounded out of the house. I sat up, rubbed my eyes, and followed her.

  • • •

  James was still spending most of his time in the water, which left Calia and me alone for long periods of time. He really wanted to spot a whale shark. “I’m not going to stop until I see one,” he’d said.

  “I hope you do. I can’t even describe how awesome it was to swim alongside something so huge.”

  Calia and I often watched him, his snorkel bobbing on the surface. “He won’t stop until he sees one,” she said. “He’s very determined that way.”

  We were sitting in the shade one day a few weeks after Calia and James came to the island. I was reading an old issue of Newsweek while she strummed her guitar. We’d swum laps after
lunch, and neither of us had wanted to be the first to quit. I was drowsy and contemplating taking a nap. Even Calia seemed a little tired.

  “What’s that song?” I asked. She strummed those same chords all the time, but I couldn’t quite place it.

  “‘Un-Break My Heart’ by Toni Braxton,” she said.

  “Yeah, that’s it. Sing it for me.”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’m shy.”

  I snorted. “Bullshit. You are the opposite of shy. Just sing.”

  “Don’t look at me,” she said.

  “Fine.” I put down the magazine and stretched out on my back, closing my eyes. She strummed the guitar and just when I thought she’d changed her mind, she started to sing. I don’t know what her hang-up was all about, because she sang the hell out of that song. I wasn’t an expert by any means, but her voice sounded perfect and she hit every note.

  I’d never listened to the words that closely before, and as she sang them I wondered why she’d chosen a song about heartbreak and pain. When she finished I opened my eyes and sat up. “Did some guy do that to you?” I asked. “Is that why you’re always strumming that song?”

  “No,” she said softly. “I just think it’s beautiful.”

  Reaching over, I took the guitar and placed it gently on the ground. She didn’t say anything, but she looked into my eyes as if she was curious about what I might do next. I wanted to ask her why she’d come here. I wanted to ask her if there was someone waiting for her at home. I wanted to tell her that I thought she was beautiful.

  And if James hadn’t chosen that moment to run up to us, laughing and shaking droplets of water from his skin like a dog, I would have.

  “Storm’s coming tonight,” James said. He was sitting in front of the camp stove heating up a can of beef stew when I walked up to him.

  “Oh yeah?” I asked. “How do you know?”

  “Your phone rang while I was in the house changing my clothes. Your pilot was on the other end. Said the barometer was dropping. Could be a big one.”

  There had been a few storms since I’d finished the house, but none that had ever prompted a call before. I glanced at the sky. Not a cloud in it. That didn’t mean anything, though. I looked at James. “We better get everything moved inside the house.”

  “All right, mate. Let’s batten it down.”

  After James finished eating, he, Calia, and I made several trips from the beach to the house. The sky gradually became overcast as we transported the camp stove, water, and supplies. I took down the tent and unhooked the solar shower from the tree.

  Calia lagged behind when we carried our last load. I turned to see what was keeping her and noticed she was limping, probably because her feet were bare. “Where are your shoes?” I asked.

  “I kicked them off back at the beach. I can’t stand it when the sand gets between my feet and my flip-flops. I forgot to put them back on.”

  “You can’t walk in the woods without shoes, Calia.” The ground was covered with sharp sticks, thorns, and leaves; it was far different from the soft sand on the beach. “Let me see your feet.” She placed a hand on my shoulder for balance, then showed me the soles of each foot. “They’re a little red, but I don’t think you’ve cut yourself,” I said.

  “It’s not that far of a walk,” she said.

  “I know, but a cut could get infected easily here.” I turned around. “Come on. I’ll give you a piggyback ride the rest of the way and then I’ll walk back to beach and get your shoes.” She jumped up, grabbed on to my shoulders, and wrapped her legs around my waist. I hoisted her a little higher and began walking.

  “I’m not too heavy, am I?” she asked.

  I had no idea why girls always asked that, especially someone as slight as her. “You’re incredibly heavy. I can hardly carry you.”

  She let go of me with one of her arms so she could hit me on the back of the head. “Don’t be cheeky. Say, ‘Calia is light as a feather.’”

  I laughed. “Calia is light as a feather.”

  “She is the lightest, most delicate thing on the island.”

  “Wow, you’re really laying it on thick,” I said, which earned me another smack to the back of the head. “Ow! Will you stop that? One more hit like that and I may drop the delicate girl on her ass.”

  “I’m sorry. Please go ahead.”

  “Fine. You are the lightest, most delicate, most beautiful thing on the island.” We’d reached the house by then. The front door hung open, but James was nowhere in sight. I walked across the threshold and set Calia down gently.

  “I didn’t say beautiful,” she said.

  “I know you didn’t,” I said.

  She looked up at me, her smile wide. “You think I’m beautiful?”

  I looked her in the eye. “Yes.”

  “I think you are, too.” She turned red and got all flustered. “I mean, I think you’re very attractive. I like the way you look.”

  “Wel,l thank God we got this out of the way,” I said. She started laughing and we smiled at each other like we were relieved to no longer be carrying around this giant secret. “And just so you know, you’ll get plenty of compliments from me without having to fish for them.”

  • • •

  After I retrieved Calia’s shoes we all made one last trip to the beach. Whitecaps were forming in the lagoon by then and the sky had faded into an eerie shade of pink. On the horizon, the skyline was turning a darker, more ominous color. When the rain began to fall we made our way quickly back to the house and ate peanut butter and crackers for dinner. I pulled out the bottle of whiskey that I’d added to one of my supply lists a few months ago, and we passed it around.

  “That burns,” Calia said, coughing and making a face.

  “Sip it slowly. Don’t take such a big drink,” I said, taking my own turn when she handed me the bottle.

  The whiskey relaxed me, but I didn’t think it would be a good idea for any of us to drink too much of it, especially if Mother Nature really let loose. So far, there had only been some mildly worrisome sounds—and howling winds and torrential rain—but I’d made it through that kind of thing before, with just my tent for shelter. My biggest worry was that a tree would fall directly on us. I had no idea if the roof would hold.

  “I know that Calia’s going to Africa. But what are your plans, James?” I asked.

  “Heading to uni in the fall.” He took a drink of whiskey and handed the bottle to his sister. She waved him off so he passed it to me. “I want to be a successful businessman someday.” He said it with total sincerity and all the enthusiasm you’d expect from an eighteen-year-old who had his whole life ahead of him.

  “You like business, then?”

  He laughed. “I like money.” He had to raise his voice in order to be heard over the increasingly loud thunder. It sounded as if it was cracking directly over our heads.

  Calia looked up at the roof, an uneasy expression on her face. She wrapped my blanket around her shoulders and scooted a little closer.

  “It’s okay,” I said.

  “We always had enough,” James said. “But I want to own a big house and buy any car that catches my eye.”

  “Nothing wrong with that,” I said. I wasn’t going to caution him about everything that comes with wealth. Better to let him earn the money first.

  “Did you go to uni, Owen?”

  “I went to college in California. UCLA. I also studied business.”

  James perked up. “That’s great, mate.” His forehead wrinkled. “But if you don’t mind my asking, why are you here? I mean, this place is ace and all, but why wouldn’t you want to use your qualifications?”

  “I did, for a while. Just felt like taking a break.”

  “You going back into business? After you leave here?”

  I s
hrugged. “Not sure at this point.” I’d already decided to leave when James and Calia headed back, sometime at the end of August. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do, but one thing I did know was that I was tired of being alone. The solitude I once couldn’t get enough of had been replaced by a growing desire to put down roots somewhere, be around other people. I still had some time to decide where that would be.

  Our conversation was interrupted when something hit the side of the house. The sound was so loud it was like something had exploded nearby and sent debris hurtling toward us like a series of missiles, one after the other. Adrenaline flooded my system and my heart rate increased. Calia screamed. The house shook and shuddered and creaked, and I almost expected all four walls to fall away, leaving us totally exposed to the elements.

  Thankfully, that didn’t happen. By then the three of us were huddled together, the blanket covering our heads. “My pilot told me he’d come if he ever thought there was a storm I couldn’t ride out. I’m sure the worst of it will be over soon.”

  There were a few more loud crashes that made me hold my breath for a second, but gradually the sounds lessened until finally, an hour later, we could hear only the rain.

  James picked up the whiskey bottle. “That was wild,” he said. He took a drink and handed it to me.

  After I swallowed a sizeable amount I turned to hand it to Calia. She was still huddled under the blanket and when she looked up at me there were tears in her eyes. I felt a sudden stab of guilt because she hadn’t signed up for this. “Hey,” I said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry. It’s over.”

  James spoke up. “It’s okay, sis. Just think of the story you’ll be able to tell all your friends.”

  “I don’t think this is the kind of story that will interest them,” she said. But she valiantly attempted a smile and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

  I wanted to pull her into my arms, hold her close, rub her back. But I didn’t because of James. He had to know I was interested in his sister, otherwise why would I have invited her to come here? But I didn’t think it would be a good idea to show his sister any affection when he was sitting right next to us. Plus it would feel really weird.