Beside a Burning Sea

DAY SEVEN
As Plato once said,
Just the dead will see war’s end.
Young flowers fear frost.
False Dawn


Beyond the harbor, beneath the swells to the west of the island, Benevolence rested. After sinking, the ship had broken in two and each part had settled upon a virgin reef. For three days, oil had leaked from Benevolence’s torn stern, fouling the pristine waters. The oil had kept sea life away, but once the water cleared, turtles and sharks and dozens of varieties of fish ventured into the ruined infrastructure of the ship. Some of the turtles became trapped within Benevolence , and soon their bodies mingled with hundreds of human corpses.
Scavengers now explored the lifeless ship, cleaning it of the dead. Already miniature barnacles had affixed themselves to massive iron walls. And lobsters and moray eels had made homes within man-made caves. The bridge of Benevolence was still intact, and a leopard shark had taken up residence beneath the table where Joshua once studied maps.
Not far from Benevolence, scores of planes and smaller boats also littered the seafloor. These were burial grounds for men and homes to all forms of sea life. Soon other objects would sink from the world above—tanks, rifles, bombs, and ships that dwarfed Benevolence. Thousands of soldiers would also fall beneath the surface—their bodies and memories forever lost at sea.
Staring out over the waves, Joshua was aware only of his ship. As he kneeled on the beach in the early morning light, he prayed for the dead. He offered such prayers every morning, praying that the dead were in heaven and that their families would someday again know peace. Though he believed strongly in God, his belief was not unshakable, and he often looked skyward as if seeking a reminder of a higher power.
After praying for the safety of his family and making a sign of the cross, Joshua returned to camp. Everyone was still asleep, or at least content to have their eyes closed—perhaps enjoying the coolness of the morning. Over the past few days, people had started to sleep farther from the banyan tree. Thus palm fronds, banana peels, and coconut husks were scattered about. Joshua began to collect such items and quietly place them into the fire. When he neared Isabelle, he paused, watching her sleep. Though her skin was speckled with sand and lined with grime, the sight of her sleeping was a beautiful thing, and he beheld her face as the sun climbed higher. He thought about the child she carried, and he marveled that a new life grew within her. Though he wasn’t prone to such thoughts, Joshua wondered what it would be like to have life develop within him. Would men be so quick to kill each other if they experienced such creation?
Joshua licked his swollen lip and continued to tidy the camp. He would have never let Benevolence fall into such disarray, but here he didn’t want to order people around unnecessarily. After all, everyone was tired and hot and covered in bug bites, and yesterday’s events proved that people were also on edge. Morale needed to be raised, he realized, though he was uncertain what to do to lift their spirits. Of course, Roger would be sent away, he knew that much. And without Roger sulking about, the mood around camp should improve.
Nearing the airman, Joshua was surprised to see that he hadn’t changed positions all morning. The prisoner’s hands and feet were bound and a rope connected him to the banyan tree. He still lay on his side and rested his hands beside his belly. A cup of water and some nearby bananas were untouched. A fly landed on the man’s face, and instinctively Joshua leaned down to chase it away. Only then did he realize that the airman’s chest wasn’t moving.
Joshua dropped to his knees and felt for a pulse. The man’s flesh was cool and unmoving against him. “Oh, no,” he whispered, placing the back of his hand before the airman’s mouth. No breath came forward. Muttering to himself, Joshua ran his hands through his hair. He rose, moving quietly toward where Scarlet lay some two dozen paces away. She rested on her back and her eyes were open.
“I need you,” he whispered. Wordlessly, she followed him to the airman. Joshua knelt and said, “I think . . . I think he’s dead. I don’t understand it, but I think he’s dead.”
Scarlet moved forward, checking the man’s vitals. She turned to Joshua. “He’s been dead for some time,” she said quietly. “By the look of him, probably for hours.”
“For hours? How?” he asked, untying the man so that she could more easily examine him.
She sighed and carefully moved his head. Blood trickled from his ears and his nose. The skin around his wound was bruised and swollen. “He must . . . he hemorrhaged in the night.”
“Hemorrhaged? I didn’t think his wound was life threatening. I thought—”
“Head wounds are always dangerous,” she interrupted. “He must have been bleeding internally and we never realized it.”
“Didn’t you look for that?”
“Of course we did. And if we’d been aboard Benevolence, with proper equipment, I’m sure that he’d still be alive. But we’re not. We’re on a beach and we’ve no doctors and there’s no bringing him back.”
He rubbed his temples, as if his head suddenly ached. He was responsible for this man’s safety, and had utterly failed him. “I’m going . . . I need to bury him,” he whispered, glancing skyward. “When the others wake up, can you please tell them what’s happened?”
“I’ll tell them.”
Joshua lifted the airman, putting him over his shoulder. He took a few paces toward the jungle and then noticed Akira asleep. Impulsively, Joshua strode to Annie’s patient. Grunting with effort, he leaned down and tapped him on the shoulder. Akira’s eyes opened, but he didn’t move. “Can you come with me?” Joshua whispered.
Gazing at the lifeless body, Akira nodded. The two men stepped into the jungle, which in the half-light of the morning seemed to consume them as if it were a vast mouth swallowing a pair of ants. “How did he die?” Akira asked quietly, walking before Joshua to clear a path.
“I didn’t want this to happen. I wanted to treat him fairly.”
“What did happen?”
“His head wound. His brain bled during the night and he died in his sleep. Scarlet checked on him several times, but . . . but a few hours ago he died.” Joshua sidestepped a fallen log, the weight of the dead man pressing him down upon the earth. “I’m sorry.”
“Why am I with you now?”
“Because I want . . . because he needs a proper burial. And I know nothing of your religions. I’m hoping that you can help me.”
Akira stopped. He turned around to study the dead man. “Most Japanese,” he said softly, “believe in Buddhism or Shinto. Both groups . . . cremate their dead.”
“Then I’d like . . . then we need to do that.”
“Please find an open space and gather wood. I will soon return.” Akira disappeared into the jungle.
Joshua moved forward. Vines obscured his path, and with his one free arm he pushed them aside. Though he longed to rest, to put the body down beside him, he continued on. His mind was overburdened with conflicting emotions about what had befallen his prisoner. The airman had been without question a dangerous addition to their group, a fanatic who’d have either escaped or died trying. And from that perspective, Joshua didn’t mind the man’s death. His death, after all, meant one fewer threat that could endanger Isabelle or anyone else. On the other hand, Joshua had been responsible for the airman’s well-being, and letting any man, even a man bent on destruction, die while tied to a tree was unforgivable.
A clearing revealed itself, and Joshua moved forward, gently setting the airman down among a group of knee-high ferns. Nearby, a dead and emaciated tree leaned against a sapling that struggled to reach the light above. He pulled the dead tree from its resting place and began breaking it into smaller pieces. Bugs attacked him as he worked, and he often slapped at his back and legs in an effort to keep them at bay.
Soon Joshua had a cot-sized bundle of wood piled in the center of the clearing. He lifted the airman, carefully placed him in the middle of the pile, and crossed the man’s arms over his chest. He straightened the flier’s clothing. He then closed his eyes, made the sign of the cross, and prayed.
After a few minutes passed, Akira arrived with a burning branch. Seeing the funeral pyre, he nodded in appreciation, then eyed the jungle that rose above and about them. “A good place, yes, to continue a journey?”
Joshua glanced around, noting the trees and birds and a pair of giant butterflies that fluttered about a violet orchid. “I think it’s a fine place. As fine as any.”
Akira set the burning branch beneath the pile of timber. At first only smoke rose, which was white and slender and altogether unlike the smoke that had billowed up from Benevolence. But the fire quickly spread, consuming the dry wood and the man atop it. Soon unable to watch, Joshua sat among the ferns, closed his eyes, and silently confessed his sins.
Akira continued to stand. When the fire finally wavered, he added more wood. Then he sat next to Joshua and listened carefully to the sound of rebirth.

AFTER SCARLET FINISHED telling everyone of the airman’s death, people went in opposite directions. Before Roger vanished into the jungle, he let Annie know that he was glad one fewer Jap existed in the world, and she replied by turning her back to him. Nathan—who hoped to redeem himself for his failures of the previous day—also ventured inland, seeking the cave that Joshua so desperately wanted. Each of the three nurses felt guilty for not paying more attention to the airman’s head wound, and each reflected on his passing.
Ratu, who’d been relegated to the periphery of the group by the violent events, slowly built a new fire pit. The airman’s demise had shaken Ratu. He hadn’t expected to find death on the island, and he obsessed about his father being captured by the Japanese and dying in such a manner. Ratu had always believed his father to be invincible. But now, as he dug in the sand, he remembered the numerous times that his father had been injured during their adventures, and how his legs and hands bore as many scars as an old turtle’s shell. Also, his father’s eyes weren’t as sharp as they once were, and he worried about him walking into an ambush.
Thinking of himself on the island, so far from his family, Ratu began to panic. What would happen to his mother and sisters if his father died? Who’d feed them? Who’d tell his sisters that their dreams were only dreams and that they had nothing to fear from the night?
Breaking out in a sweat, Ratu hurried from the fire pit, anxiously following Jake’s deep footprints down the beach. He needed to talk to his friend, and with each passing step he felt this urgency increase. By the time he reached Jake, Ratu’s face was streaked with tears.
“Big Jake!” he sobbed, running into the engineer’s arms.
Jake dropped his spear and the three fish he’d caught. “What? What ain’t right?”
Ratu clung to Jake as if only he could pull him from a swirling sea, could stop him from drowning. “I’m scared . . . so bloody scared for my father,” Ratu stammered. “I want to see him. What if he’s tied to a tree with no one to protect him? What . . . what if he’s hurt?”
Stroking Ratu’s cheek, Jake held him tight. Ratu shuddered against him. For not the first time, Jake realized how slender and small and young Ratu was. “How many sharks has your daddy killed?” Jake asked, his cigarlike fingers still moving against Ratu’s tear-stained face.
“I don’t . . . I don’t know. Why?”
“How about a guess?”
“Fifteen or . . . maybe twenty.”
“Twenty sharks,” Jake replied, shaking his head as if in wonder. “You reckon a man who’s killed twenty sharks is gonna go and get himself captured? Get himself captured when he’s got such a fine boy to go home to? No, sir. I don’t expect that such a shark killer has much to worry about. You’d sooner see a fish drown.”
“But his eyes aren’t good and . . . and he’s not as strong as I told you. He couldn’t really throw his spear across the harbor. He couldn’t—”
“Shhh,” Jake said, trying to calm Ratu. “It’ll rattle right. You’ll see. No shark killer is gonna get himself captured or shot.”
“But what . . . what if he doesn’t come home? What will happen to my mother? My little sisters?” Before Jake could answer, Ratu continued miserably, “They’re not strong, I tell you. They get scared at night. I should never have left them. Oh, why . . . why did I ever leave them?”
“You’ll be with them real soon.”
Ratu shook his head, a trail of mucus stretching from his nose to Jake’s shoulder. “You can’t . . . you can’t promise that, Big Jake.”
Jake wiped the tears from Ratu’s face. “Well, I can promise you that we’ve both got bones in our backs and we’ll escape this darn island. You’ll be home before the crickets cry.”
“And my father?”
“Why, the war’s almost over.”
“It is?”
“Well, them Japs ain’t gonna quit. And they’ll ride their horse until they get knocked off. But they’ll eat dirt soon enough. Their horse is plumb dead already. They just don’t know it.”
Ratu nodded, leaning into his friend. “I’m just so bloody afraid. I don’t want anyone else to die.”
Jake continued to stroke Ratu’s face. He’d never held a child in such a manner, and found that he’d be happy to embrace Ratu for as long as he needed him. “You should fetch each one of them sisters something,” Jake finally said. “Something from your adventure.”
“Like what?”
“What do they like? What makes them smile?”
Sniffing, Ratu thought about his siblings. “Sometimes . . . sometimes I bring them seashells.”
“Then let’s gather up some seashells. The prettiest seashells on the island.”
“And I collect . . . I’ve found fourteen heart-shaped stones for my mother.”
“Then let’s get her a fifteenth.”
Ratu nodded. “And my father? I could bring him a shark’s tooth. That would be wonderful, Big Jake. Oh, Big Jake, would you help me get a shark’s tooth?”
“Just tell me how to do it. I’m a farmer, remember?”
Wiping his tears away, Ratu replied, “I taught you how to fish, didn’t I?”
“I reckon so.”
“Well, I tell you, if I can teach you how to fish, then I can teach you how to spear a shark. It’s really no different.”
“Except that sharks have teeth. Lots of them. And I don’t fancy—”
“Sharks are dumb. Probably as dumb as the pigs you’re used to. You shouldn’t have any problems.”
“Pigs ain’t able to eat people. You forget that little-known fact?”
“I forgot what a baby you could be.”
Jake smiled, pulling Ratu closer to him. “It’s good to see the old you.”
“I’m not old, Big Jake.”
Chuckling, Jake ruffled Ratu’s hair. “I have an idea. Care to hear it?”
Ratu wiped his face. “You’re a good mate, Big Jake. A cracking good mate. Sure, what’s your idea?”
“The way I see it, these last two days have been real hard on everyone. As hard as hail on crops. And I reckon we should do something about it.”
“What should we do?”
“Fish. Fish like your daddy taught you. Let’s catch tuna and crab and lobster. And one of them big, ugly fish that tastes like chicken. We’ll cook it all tonight. And then people will fill their bellies and something real fine will have happened today.”
Ratu rose from his friend’s lap. “Let’s keep it a secret. Let’s surprise everyone.”
“A secret it is,” Jake replied, handing Ratu a spear. “And if a shark happens to amble our way, well, then, we’ll just make a meal of him too.”

ONCE THE FUNERAL pyre had quieted, Joshua asked Akira to return to camp. The captain had said that he was going to spend the day looking for a cave, that he wasn’t going to return until he found them a hiding place. He’d told Akira to stay clear of Roger and had thanked him for helping with the airman.
As the fire had burned, Joshua came to the realization that it was up to him to find a hiding place. He’d asked Roger to do it, but the man, despite his obvious talents, had found nothing. Nathan was incapable of such tasks, and Jake, though capable, was providing most of their food. The women could search, of course, but Joshua didn’t like the thought of them in the jungle, as it was an unforgiving place and posed all sorts of dangers.
The air battle had reminded Joshua that the war was coming to them, that they’d need a secret refuge. If his wife and unborn child were to live, it was up to him to protect them, to ensure that their beauty could not be stolen from the world. And so he hurried through the underbrush, determined to make it to the other side of the island. Perhaps Ratu was right. Perhaps along the far shore a cave would exist.
Thorns tore at his flesh and birds protested his passing. He moved with haste, wanting to cover as much territory as possible before the day was done. Whenever he grew tired, he thought of his child, and pressed forward with renewed strength. He imagined Isabelle running into the jungle and having nowhere to hide when the Japanese came. Troops would pour onto the island, and though his group might be able to disappear for a few hours, or even a day, they’d ultimately be discovered. And at that point anything was possible. They could be treated well or he could be shot and Isabelle ravaged. The thought of her helpless in the hands of cruel men profoundly motivated him, and he saw more of the island than he ever had. He climbed rises and crossed streams and moved so fast that mosquitoes couldn’t keep up.
Joshua debated the pros and cons of the possible hiding spots that he discovered. Piles of boulders were pondered. Dense vegetation inspected from every angle. Within a particularly thick part of the jungle, a trio of large trees had fallen against one another. Saplings had emerged around the larger trees, and the result was an almost tepeelike structure that could hide a handful of people. Though the shelter wasn’t what he sought, he’d used the airman’s compass to get a feel for the location.
His shirt and shorts and even shoes damp with sweat, Joshua continued on. As midday approached, he finally reached the other side of the island. Though a long beach was present, no harbor existed, and the waves were much larger here. Piles of driftwood lined the beach. He noticed some cliffs to the north and, eating a breadfruit, headed toward them. As he walked, he scrutinized the beach for valuable items. After all, untold ships navigated these waters, and anything could have washed ashore.
Though the beach contained mostly driftwood, shells, bloated jellyfish, and rotting seaweed, he discovered a few things fashioned in distant worlds—wooden fishing buoys, a small bottle with Japanese or Chinese markings, and an empty crate. He pocketed the bottle and kept walking.
Not far ahead, Joshua noticed a large number of gulls circling and dropping to the beach. He quickened his pace and was surprised to see that the gulls were feasting on small, slow crabs that emerged from a hole in the sand. After a few more steps, he realized that the gulls weren’t eating crabs, but baby sea turtles. Instinctively, he hurried toward the nest, waving his arms in an effort to scare the birds away. A dozen half-eaten turtles lay beyond the nest. Several scores of hatchlings were in the process of breaking free from their eggs or methodically crawling toward the surf. Joshua scooped up as many of the babies as possible and, with gulls darting about him, ran toward the sea. He waited for a wave to recede and dropped the turtles into the water.
Numerous gulls had returned to the nest, and Joshua ran at them as fast as possible. He yelled, waving his arms. The gulls shrieked, rising to circle above the nest. All of the eggs had either been destroyed by the gulls or had hatched. At least another twenty turtles scurried toward the sea. Joshua held his shirt out before him, using it like a bag in which to collect the remaining hatchlings. This time he walked deeper into the water, and when he sat in the sea, he watched the babies swim away. They immediately headed toward darker water, and he couldn’t help but wonder how many finned predators awaited them. One turtle, which had lost part of a flipper to a gull, struggled to make headway. Joshua picked it up and waded into the surf. Once he was up to his chest, he gently placed the turtle into the water and watched it swim into the mysterious beyond.
After he returned to shore and ensured that no other turtles remained, Joshua continued to walk toward the cliffs. His encounter with the hatchlings reminded him of his unborn child. He and Isabelle had been trying to conceive for several years, and after failing to do so, a part of him had sadly concluded that he’d never be a father. Over the past year, as the war and his responsibilities increasingly weighed upon him, he’d thought less and less about fatherhood. In fact, once he’d been given control of Benevolence, such musings had almost completely disappeared. To make matters worse, even after he managed to get Isabelle assigned to his ship, he’d hardly seen her. They’d both worked endless hours, and the work that might have bonded them actually served to push them apart. He had his responsibilities and so did she. Little time existed for anything else.
As Joshua walked in his wet clothes toward the cliffs, he realized that Isabelle’s pregnancy had prompted him to think more of her in the past few days than he had in the past few months. Without question, he felt closer to her than he had in a long time. And even though she was strong and sure and capable, he knew that she needed his encouragement more than ever. He’d sensed this need over the past several days. Being who she was, Isabelle tried to hide this want, but he wasn’t fooled. She’d tended to others for years, and for the moment, a part of her wanted to be looked after.
While pleased that their child had already brought them closer together, Joshua worried about how he’d fare as a father. He owned more than his share of demons and disappointments, and how could he be a good father, a good teacher, when he’d failed at the most important mission ever given to him?
He was soon at the cliffs, which were set back thirty or forty feet from the water. The beach before the cliffs was littered with rocks of all sizes. The sea pounded against the land here, spray erupting into the sky. With care, Joshua circumvented tide pools and barnacle-encrusted rocks. Parts of the cliffs had fallen, and he looked into piles of massive boulders, seeking hiding places.
Joshua hadn’t walked more than a few hundred paces in front of the cliffs when, to his utter amazement, he found what he was looking for. Between a break in the cliffs, where the land opened up and the jungle managed to creep forward, an overhang of rock seemed to obscure a hollow or a cave. His heartbeat quickening, he hurried forward. His feet fell upon rocks, then sand, then the tentacles of vines and plants that crept forward from the jungle.
At one point waves must have crashed against this spot, for what had once been a cliff had collapsed. And at the bottom of that cliff was a cave, a hollow that had been carved into the stone by the assault of billions of waves over thousands of years. Joshua rushed into the cave, which was shoulder high at its entrance, but at least twenty feet tall inside. The cave was as big as a small house. Sand comprised its floor, and in one corner, the sand sloped into a bus-sized body of water. “Please, dear Lord,” Joshua whispered, rushing toward the pool. He knelt in the sand, cupped his hand into the water, drew some into his mouth, and whooped in joy when he knew that it was fresh and pure.
With the thrill of a child stepping onto a Ferris wheel, Joshua explored the cave. Aside from the body of water, it seemed dry. The sand was deep and soft. Coolness prevailed. The light cast through the opening was enough to at least partially illuminate the entire area.
Joshua looked up, overwhelmed with relief. “Thank you, Lord,” he said emotionally, not believing his good fortune. “Thank you so very, very much.”
With an endless supply of water and piles of driftwood nearby, enough resources existed here that Joshua thought the cave could support the entire party. His only uncertainly had to do with food. Could Jake and Ratu catch fish here, as they did in the harbor? Hurrying to the cave’s entrance to eye the raging surf, he had his doubts. Deciding that they’d simply have to dry fish caught in the harbor and bring food here, he clapped his hands together. Isabelle would be safe in the cave. Everyone would be safe. Even if a large force of Japanese landed on the island, the cave was so well hidden and far removed from the harbor that it would likely never be discovered. And if the survivors camouflaged its entrance, the cave would be all but invisible.
Twice since Benevolence sank, Joshua had felt hope. The first time was when Isabelle told him that she was pregnant, and the second was now, as he looked into the cave and his dread of discovery lessened into something much more tolerable. Within the cave, they could hide from the war. They could hide and they could hope. And they could think of the future—a future infinitely more alluring than the present.

BACK AT THE HARBOR, Annie had finished collecting coconuts and now sat against a palm tree, watching clouds drift above the sea. A gentle breeze caressed the clouds and her face, keeping the day’s heat at bay. After seven days on the island, Annie realized that such breezes made life bearable. When the wind didn’t stir, the heat often became a living thing—an omnipotent force that could render her almost powerless. She’d never experienced such heat, never known how it felt to breathe air that seemed too hot and heavy to draw into her lungs. Fortunately, most of her days on the island had been accompanied by breezes similar to what touched her now. And in the shade, with such a breeze upon her, the sun seemed more a friend than a foe.
As usual for this time, camp was quiet and barren. Annie looked down the beach to where Akira sat on a rock with his feet in the sea. He had his shirt off and was washing himself. Normally, Annie would have left him in peace, but still feeling guilty about recent events, she decided to seek him out.
The sand was hot against her feet. She quickly headed to the water and then started to move in Akira’s direction. When he glanced up, she waved. His return greeting was pleasant, which was a relief, as she had been afraid that he’d be resentful about his treatment.
Akira sat on a fairly flat rock that rose just above the water’s edge. With his legs dangling off the rock, he’d been in the process of cleaning his feet. Pleased that he was keeping his wound dry, Annie waded through the shallows until she stood near him. Turning toward the shore, away from the glaring sun, she said, “I never got to finish apologizing for what happened.”
“With the gag, yes?”
“With the gag, the ropes, Roger, and now . . . and now for the death this morning.”
Akira set aside the coconut husk that he’d been scrubbing his toes with. “You did none of these things to me, Annie.” Before she could reply, he added, “So please do not worry about them. Besides, I do not blame your captain for what happened. He did what he should have done.”
“But Roger?”
“Roger does not trouble me. I have met his kind before.”
Annie had never seen Akira shirtless, and was surprised at how muscular his compact torso was. His chest, which was almost free of hair, looked hard and lean. Dropping her gaze to his leg, she said, “Your wound is healing wonderfully.”
“I have a wonderful doctor, yes?”
She smiled. “I’m a nurse, Akira. A nurse.”
“Ah, but better than a doctor, I think.” He politely motioned to an empty spot on the rock beside him. “Would you care to sit?”
Annie nodded, taking his hand as he helped her climb atop the rock. She put her feet into the water and felt the sun against her back. “This morning, why did you go with Joshua?”
“He was going to bury the airman. But he needed to burn him.”
“Is that what . . . what Hindus do?”
“Yes, though I am Buddhist.”
“Oh,” she muttered, putting her hand in front of her mouth as if to keep it from revealing any more of her ignorance. “I’m sorry.”
“Please do not be. We have never spoken of this before.”
She took his coconut husk and began to absently scrub the back of her calf. “Can you tell me something of Buddhism? Enough so that when I meet another Buddhist I don’t sound like a complete fool?”
Akira put his hands in the water and splashed his face. “The sea feels good, yes?”
“It feels perfect.”
He smiled, remembering how it felt to be a young boy and to dangle his feet in the Kamo River. “Buddhists believe that life is reborn. Like a tree that goes through the seasons. Each leaf on the tree is a new life, and each life is reborn with the spring.”
“You’re talking about reincarnation?”
“Yes. Or rebirth. We believe that once someone experiences enough rebirths, and once they release their . . . attachment to desire, to themselves, that they will go to Nirvana.”
“And Nirvana is like heaven?”
“Yes, in a way.”
Annie rinsed his coconut husk in the water and handed it back to him. “Sorry,” she said sheepishly. “I should have asked if I could borrow it. You’d never take anything from me like that.”
He handed her back the husk. “I am glad that you do not feel the need to ask.”
“What else do Buddhists believe?”
“You truly want to know? I would not want to bore you.”
“I do.”
Akira smiled and said, “Buddha’s four noble truths are quite simple. One, suffering exists. Two, a cause for suffering exists. Three, an end to suffering exists. Four, only by accepting suffering, by releasing desire, can one end suffering and ultimately reach Nirvana.”
Annie pondered his words as she watched fish swim about their rock. “Can you . . . do that? Accept suffering and . . . and release desire?”
“No, I cannot. I still have desires, and I would rather not suffer.”
“So you’re not anywhere near Nirvana, are you?”
He grinned. “I am not near Nirvana. Although with the water on my feet, the sun on my back, and . . . and with my wonderful nurse beside me, this is a good day. Yes?”
Nodding, she replied, “A good day.”
Akira noticed Nathan emerge from the distant jungle. Shielding his eyes from the sun, he headed toward camp. “I like him,” Akira said. “A simple man. But simple men are fine men.”
“He misses his family so much. He must constantly think about his wife, because he’s called me by her name more than once.”
“I hope he gets home to her soon.”
Annie’s gaze followed a manta ray that glided over the sand below. “May I ask you something, Akira? Something personal?”
“Of course.”
“Do you have a wife? Children?”
He turned to her. “In Japan, the oldest son takes care of his parents. When my father died, maybe seven years ago, I moved into his house. I have lived with my mother ever since.”
“And you’ve never met someone?”
“No. I was a teacher, so I only met young people. And I had to take care of my mother.”
“And you’re alright with that?”
He shrugged. “I have no choice. It is my duty and . . . and my honor.”
Annie shifted atop the rock. She watched as he gently stirred his feet in the water. Something in the way he moved intrigued her. It was almost as if he took great pleasure from the feel of the sea against his skin.
“Now may I ask something of you?” he questioned, the movement of his feet pausing slightly.
“If you’re brave.”
“I am being brave right now, I think.”
“Well, then, ask away.”
“What of your fiancé? He makes you happy, yes?”
Annie started to reply but stopped. She’d asked herself that same question a thousand times and was still unsure how to answer it. “Ted makes everyone happy,” she finally said, wondering why it was so easy to share her thoughts with Akira. “And for a while, that made me happy. But now . . . now sometimes I think that I’d rather be with someone who only made me happy.”
“Does—”
“I know that makes me sound terribly selfish, and I’m sorry for that. But it’s true. I’d rather have him be more concerned about me than everyone else.”
Akira looked at her feet beneath the water, noting how small and slender her toes were. He experienced a sudden impulse to touch those toes, to see if they were as supple as he imagined. He also wanted to tell her that she deserved all of her fiancé’s attention, that the man didn’t understand the gift that had been bestowed upon him. He wanted to tell her so many things. Instead he asked, “May I share a story with you?”
“By all means.”
“I am sorry?”
“Yes, yes. Please tell me.”
Akira looked from her toes toward the horizon. “In Japan, beautiful gardens have existed for several thousand years. These gardens are full of stones, of ponds, of red maple trees. In the springtime, cherry blossoms cover the ground, and moss turns a deeper shade of green.”
“How wonderful.”
“Yes, very much so,” he said, wishing she could see such sights. “As a young man, I used to often visit a garden near my father’s house. There the same tree had shed cherry blossoms since the time of the shoguns. I would sit beneath this tree and write poems. And when words escaped me, I would watch the gardener. After many months, I noticed that he spent most of his time attending to a single bonsai tree. It stood on a small island within his pond, and each day he would cross a stone bridge and inspect this tree with great care. He would remove a leaf or twig or insect from it. He would brush it with a damp cloth. For many weeks, I did not understand why this man spent so much time on this one miniature tree when so much other beauty existed around him.”
Annie leaned closer to Akira. “Why did he?”
“Because, I think . . . I think he understood that life is precious and lovely and fleeting. And I think that this bonsai tree, with its imperfections and frailty, reminded him of these things, reminded him of the good in the world. And because of that . . . I think because of that he loved the bonsai tree. He loved it because it inspired him.”
Annie noticed that his feet had stopped moving. “Why, Akira, why are you telling me this?” she quietly asked.
He sighed. “Because precious things are sometimes . . . overlooked. But such things should be cherished. Poems should be written about them and they should not be forgotten. And . . . and . . .”
“And what?”
“And though I know so little of the love between a man and a woman, it seems to me that it should be like the love between that man and his miniature tree.”
“And you think . . . you think that’s the kind of love I should have?”
He paused to consider his response. “I think you deserve such a gardener,” he finally replied. “And I do not think you are selfish for wanting one.”
She smiled, and beneath the water her foot touched his.