Lisica Chapters

Thanks for joining us for the second volume of our Scientist Soap Opera escapist journey to the mysterious island of Lisica! You can find previous episodes in the link above or column on the right. Please don’t forget to subscribe and leave a comment if you enjoy what you find!

Audio for this episode:

Book II – Empirical Emotions

16 – Again And Again

Pradeep leads Mandy and Katrina on an expedition to the west edge of Tenure Grove. It’s gotten less attention so far because it is nothing but impenetrable undergrowth. But they’re dressed for it. Katrina wears pinstripe coveralls. Pradeep carries his collection pack. Mandy is in her red storm parka zipped up to her chin.

“You’re going to get holes in it,” Pradeep tells Mandy when they pause at the edge of the brush. “And it will be so hot.”

“Nothing gets through this fabric.” Mandy proudly presents a sleeve the thickness of canvas. “A Norwegian fish boat pilot I met swears by it. He said even their flensing knives can’t go through it. Cost like my entire budget that month. But yeah. It doesn’t breathe at all. So if things get too active in there I’ll definitely start boiling.”

Pradeep turns his attention to the closest shrub. “So this must be a variant of boxwood or myrtle.” He snares a limb, finger-thick, growing nearly straight out of the ground and towering over his head. Its little serrated diamond leaves hang in yellow-green clusters. “Some have berries. But this doesn’t. I think it’s probably an Oregon Boxwood. Here is a quite stout rhododendron. And these are… five-finger ferns? My fern game is sadly very weak.” He pushes through their fronds to a larger, different type. “And this is, ah, Western sword fern? Look at the size of it. I’ve never seen one so big. Now…” Pradeep kneels and pulls its broad fronds aside. “Yes, down here. Look.”

Katrina and Mandy kneel beside him. There is a dark understory beneath the green thicket above, its floor littered with gray and black dead leaves, stretching ahead into impassable stands of bare limbs. Mandy shares an uncertain look with Katrina, who shrugs.

Pradeep is too excited to contain himself. With one of his brilliant smiles and a flourish he declares, “Thank you for coming… to the fantastical world of spiders!”

Mandy pulls away with a little shriek.

Katrina makes a face. “Ah. Aha. Spiders? That’s what we’re doing? I thought you were going to show us something, ehh…”

“Like the twister in the nook!” Mandy crosses her arms. “Dude, you can’t just say who wants to see something and oh yeah bring your burliest clothes, then not tell us it’s to go mess with spiders.”

The enthusiasm fades from Pradeep’s face. “I always forget how people feel about spiders. Uh. That’s fine. You don’t need to stay.”

They’re both touched by how crestfallen he is. Katrina puts a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, mate. I’m not frightened of them. It’s just… not what I was expecting.”

With a sigh, Mandy puts the hood of her parka up and cinches it. “You know we still love you, Pradeep. You’re just a weirdo. So what’s the plan? Are we collecting spiders? Do you have gloves?”

“Well, if you don’t want to, maybe you could just stand back and document them with pictures? Unless you aren’t comfortable…”

“No, that’s fine. I can take pictures. Do they bite? I mean, I know spiders bite. But are any here like super aggressive?”

“Well. I’ll do all the collecting. So if any of them attack they will jump at me.” Pradeep crawls in first.

“Well. Glad I wore coveralls.” Katrina kneels and follows. “Are we looking for all spiders? Just the ones on the ground? Or just—? Yeh, there’s a web right there. But I don’t see a spider. Aren’t those called weavers? Such a pretty name.”

“Ah, yes, that’s the classic Araneid bullseye pattern. Fresh too. She is probably hiding on a twig at one of the anchor points. Excuse me. Let me just get in there if I could…”

Katrina retreats from her spot and Pradeep pushes past her, their bodies bumping and scraping in the tight passage. Katrina laughs. “Oo baby. Whatever happened to personal space? Remember that one time I like touched your arm and you freaked? I guess I should have just had a spider to show you.”

Pradeep is intent on the web, unaware that what he presses so roughly against is soft flesh. “Eh? Oh. Yes, I suppose I can get kind of focused when I’m working. Sorry.”

“No worries. Like at all, big boy.” Katrina’s juices are stirring. She hasn’t gone this long without a good shag since she was like fifteen. And now his arm is grazing her nipple and he doesn’t even realize it. She blows Pradeep a kiss and he finally tunes in to her flirtations enough to blush.

Mandy crouches at the edge of the understory, peering in. “And how is this dark hollow filled with spiders and god knows what else not giving you anxiety, Pradeep? I mean, if you don’t mind me asking. There’s all kinds of nightmare fuel in here. Like, what more do you need?”

“Most of my anxieties…” Pradeep speaks absently, shining his phone’s light on the web so he can follow its strands to the spider’s likely hideout, “…are social ones. It’s people who get to me. Flora and fauna aren’t… mean or selfish. They just are.”

“See, I have trouble with unknowns too.” Mandy takes a picture of Pradeep and Katrina with her phone, the flash a brilliant spike in the dark. They both grimace, blinded. “That’s how I got into the study of weather. It’s like the least predictable thing in the whole world and I needed to feel like I understood it so that, well… I mean, really it’s because I’m a control freak.”

“No…” Katrina’s voice drips with disbelief. “Say it ain’t so.”

“What?” Mandy grows self-conscious. “You noticed? Aw shoot. I thought I’d been pretty good out here so far. I haven’t strangled Amy over her placement of the kitchen yet or needed to re-arrange the lab tables five times a day. I’ve been behaving.”

“Esquibel revealed what’s behind that sweet little smile of yours. Told me all about your mastermind plans for world domination.”

“She did? What did she say?” Now Mandy is intrigued. It’s no secret that both she and Esquibel find Katrina hot. Is her lover talking Mandy down so she can make moves on Katrina herself? No, Esquibel would never do that. Would she?

“It was when we thought we’d lost Maahjabeen and she was worried about how upset you were. Esquibel said you were wasting away because you couldn’t control the situation.”

“Hmf.” Mandy doesn’t know how she feels about that. Part of her is touched by the concern. But isn’t this an invasion of privacy? Or perhaps they’re all just becoming better friends, learning more about each other. “Well, you should know Esquibel can be very controlling too. And she always kicks me when we sleep.”

Pradeep and Katrina laugh. He says, “I’ve never met a doctor who isn’t controlling. Absolute career prerequisite, I’m sure.”

“So, I’ll just like be your scout I guess.” Katrina crouches deeper and scuttles ahead, pushing the bare limbs aside. “Oh, here’s a good one! And look at the size of the lad! What a color!”

Pradeep squawks in excitement and pushes right up against Katrina. The spider sitting in the center of is web is bright orange and as big as his littlest fingernail. Its black and white legs hook its web, patiently waiting for a meal. Several former winged insects are bundled within the strands, their juices sucked dry. “That is a lovely Argiope. But the web has no stabilimentum. Curious. Most related species do. This might be a new one.” He smiles at Katrina, only a handspan away. “We can name it after you. You discovered it. Would you prefer Argiope katrina or oksana?”

Mandy has crawled in, up against their feet. She chirps, “I think it has to be Argiope dj bubblegum.”

They all laugh.

Katrina’s attraction to Pradeep is rising to new levels. He is the definition of tall, dark, and handsome. And he is just the sweetest and oddest man. Nobody has ever offered to name a species after her before. She finds herself falling into his dark brown eyes. If she knew it wouldn’t make him squeal like a schoolgirl she’d kiss him. Katrina takes a deep breath before she gets carried away. Oh, well. This randy girl will just have to satisfy herself with Pradeep’s firm body pressed up against hers.

But then in a sudden surprise, Mandy climbs over both of them, flattening them in the dead leaf litter. They collapse with a laugh as she demands, “I want to see!” She rests her chin on Pradeep’s shoulder, her leg over Katrina’s rump. “Oh my god, it’s so pretty!”

“Well, this is the craziest threesome I’ve ever been in.” Katrina turns and kisses Mandy instead, a brief sweet peck. When she pulls back she can tell from the look in Mandy’s eyes the girl is hungry for more. Well well. This is news to Katrina. She’s not sure if that’s a good idea. The last thing she needs is to get Esquibel angry with her. She’s the bloody doctor.

“Can I please get up?” Pradeep’s muffled voice breaks the spell.

Katrina giggles and turns away, wiping the corner of her mouth.

Mandy stares at her with a gimlet smile. More than anything, she is flattered that this gorgeous blonde Australian girl likes her enough to kiss her. All the rest of it can wait.

Katrina scoots forward down a forking opening, scouting further. Mandy rolls off Pradeep into the empty space and takes out her phone. She takes a picture of the spider named after Katrina and makes it a favorite by pressing on the heart.

“Oh, wow!” Katrina calls out. She’s advanced a few meters and they can’t see her. “Check this out!”

Pradeep army crawls toward the sound of Katrina’s voice…

The natives. It must have been the people of Lisica who’d cleared out this hidden chamber under the boxwood, an oval roughly five meters in diameter. Several large trunks act as columns, but the ground has been swept clear of litter and a couple flat redwood bark planks serve as furniture along the far wall.

Pradeep and Mandy crawl in, exclaiming in surprise one after the other. “This is incredible.” Mandy and Katrina can stand but he remains kneeling. “How many hidden spots do they have here?”

“And we thought for two whole weeks we were the only people on Lisica.” Katrina chuckles at the fallacy.

“Yeah. Well.” Mandy sits on one of the planks, unable to focus on this shadowed hollow. She still feels the glow of Katrina’s kiss. But she’s unsure what made the girl pull away and now she’s starting to get worried that she might never get a taste of those sweet lips again. Mandy sighs. “This place is full of mysteries.”

Ξ

Jay swings in his hammock, staring at the intershot network of branches above and the gray clouds. He could be anywhere on the whole west coast from the Sur up to Oregon’s Gold Coast. They couldn’t have found a biome that feels more to him like home.

And now he can’t move. God damn it. Being injured sucks balls. He pushed it way too hard yesterday, and now even though his bladder is nearly bursting the last thing he wants to do is fall out of the snug hammock and crawl his dumb ass down to the jakes.

“Man, that is a hell of a maze down there.” The sound of his voice in the quiet gets him going. With a groan he grabs both edges of the hammock and heaves himself up, his lower back and hips screaming. This is when he usually lifts his legs and swings them over the edge but his obliques and quads are having none of that.

Jay grunts, locked up. He’s used to waking up in a hammock sore and empty. His usual twenty mile days on steep coastal mountains end footsore and delirious. Especially if he’s been smoking mad herb. But yesterday he did like twenty miles on his belly. And as his high school soccer coach taught him, no matter how good of shape you’re in, you’re only in good shape for that activity. A runner can’t just suddenly swim. They’re whole different muscle groups and kinesthetic chains. A runner isn’t even ready to play soccer. Not until they strengthen their lower calves and hip flexors for that stop/start burst. So Jake, who hasn’t been underground in almost a year, is not at all in shape for a marathon caving sesh. And definitely not with a broken hand and dislocated ankle.

He rolls over his right shoulder onto the ground, landing in the sand on his face, which sends a sharp pain through the base of his skull. Oh, great. Now his neck hurts too? Man. Careful there. He had bad tension headaches as a kid. The last thing he needs is for them to return. Maybe he can convince Mandy to work on it. When she isn’t tearing his scar tissue apart, she actually does some pretty great deep massage. Her touch on his skin sure feels nice. Too bad she’s taken. He halts that train of thought and chuckles at himself. Look, chief, she ain’t for you. He doesn’t know if Mandy is gay or bi or monogamous or whatever but he just doesn’t want to get on Esquibel’s bad side. She’s the fucking doctor.

“I’m having… like a competition… with Maahjabeen…” Getting himself to his feet takes a comically long time. “See… who… heals last!” Finally he straightens. Well, kind of. He totters forward barefoot in the cold sand. “And I win! Suck it, ocean girl.”

On his way back from the trenches his limbs start to unwind. It’s clear that a little walk around camp is in order. He’s famished too. If he’s going to get any work done today he’s going to need some fuel. Didn’t someone say there was a carton of powdered eggs that still hadn’t been unpacked? Let’s see what he can make of those.

“Anybody else hungry?” As far as Jay can tell camp is empty but a lone, deep voice calls out, “Me. Por favor.”

“Alonso, my man. Coming right up. How’s a tofu omelet sound? With maybe like… You know what? Amy and me are thinking of harvesting some seaweed. Maybe if we get some edible varieties we can actually get some salad back on the menu. And if it’s too tough I was thinking we could steep it in your red wine for a few days.”

“An omelet would be amazing.”

Jay laughs at the disembodied voice and starts looking at the bins that remain unopened. “Yes sir, leave the seaweed experiments up to me. Good call. Aha! Here we go! Eggs for days! And a whole canister of powdered garlic! I’m in heaven!”

Twenty minutes later, Jay presents Alonso with a steaming plate on a tray with a mug of tea and dried bananas and blueberries as garnish. Alonso sets aside his laptop and accepts it with a grateful smile. Then he sighs hugely and rubs his eyes. He’s been at work now for hours.

“It looks delicioso. But where is yours?”

“Yeah, I ate as I cooked. Already done. Got a little excited and burned myself.” Jay, speaking with more care than normal because of his scalded tongue, sits on the platform at Alonso’s side.

Alonso laughs at him. “My god, you are your own worst enemy. You get hurt every day. Are you like this on every trip or is this one somehow special?”

Jay laughs at himself, carefree. “Yeah, I’m an idiot. You know what I think my trouble is here? Lisica is so familiar that I keep subconsciously like letting my guard down, thinking I’m still on home turf. But it isn’t. This is an island in the middle of the ocean. I forget I got to bring my A game at all times.”

“That is some good insight there, hermano. So tell me. What was it like underground?”

“Well, it’s pretty cool. Triquet told us about this bioluminescent fungus and I spent like twenty minutes trying to take a picture of it. Here’s the best one.” Jay takes out his phone and shows Alonso a dim blue-green fluorescent blob, grainy and out of focus.

Alonso grunts, then carves another slice out of the omelet. “This is so good. How did you make it so fluffy?”

“Had to whip it like a French chef. Yeah…” Jay frowns at his fungus picture. “Can’t really tell anything about it at all. Too bad. This is supposed to be for Prad. Any idea where he is?”

“He went off that way with a couple others.” Alonso points his fork at the west end of the grove. The more of the omelet he eats, the faster he wants to eat it. It really is the tastiest meal he’s had in days. Too soon, the last bite is gone. “Ahh. Thank you very much, Jay. That omelet was fantastic.”

“Sure thing. You can have one every day. Yeah, Miriam did a great job setting lines down there so I never felt lost. It’s just… there’s so much. All this digging must be like their second job or something. Come and haul out another few shovels of dirt like your grandpa did every day of his whole life. We still ain’t done yet.”

“So these are not natural tunnels?”

“I mean, some are. Carved by water. But most are dug. And then there’s the concrete culvert under the beach. I have no idea what the military was thinking. Maybe they were going to run it all the way up to the pool to give themselves a better source of water? The sea cave and its hidden base needed to be supplied? I don’t know. You’re going to have to get down there yourself somehow and check it out.”

“That appears sadly out of the question.” Alonso squeezes his knees. It is not only his feet that were broken. His torturers swung their rods against his shins and knees with equal ferocity. “But I appreciate the report from the front lines. Oh! I cannot work any more. I need to do something, anything. Even if it hurts.”

“Okay, partner.” Jay groans as he pulls himself to his feet. He collects Alonso’s tray with one hand and holds out the other for Alonso to grasp. “Come with me. Let’s go take a look at things.”

It feels like climbing a mountain, getting out of this camp chair. But Alonso lets Jay haul him forward and up and then he totters on those two broken pillars of dull fire again. Their heat will intensify, the longer he stands on them. The clock has already started ticking. “Where are we headed?”

Jay cackles, happy to have gotten Alonso to come with him. “I don’t know. Where haven’t you been yet?”

“Anywhere.” Alonso shrugs. “I was on the beach at first. Then I’ve been in the bunker and…” He shrugs again, realizing how sad it is. “That’s all, I guess.”

“Oh, man. You haven’t even seen the waterfall? Wait. I’ve got an idea. Give me ten seconds to get rid of this.”

Jay hobbles away with the tray. Alonso watches him go, then realizes he should get started moving in that direction. Jay will catch up to him. Ah! There was that one other time he ventured into the bushes here to pee. That’s when he saw the native child. A vision. A vision that has come true. Remember, Alonso. Be careful here. This is where you tripped and cracked your head open last time. By the time he catches his breath, Jay has returned with Triquet, who wears a floral housecoat and a scarf.

Now Jay carries a duffel bag, nearly full. “Hey, Alonso, do you know how to play cribbage?”

“Eh?” Images flicker through Alonso’s mind, of his uncle, Julio, and his nicotine-stained fingers and the nicotine-stained cards he always carried. Cribbage was one of the many games the dapper old Spaniard had taught him. His earliest introduction to number theory, probability, and statistics. “Yes. Why?”

“Because,” Triquet gently links their arm with Alonso’s to provide support, “when Mister Hophead here asked in the bunker if anyone wanted to smoke a doobie and play cribbage by the pool I couldn’t resist.”

“Oh. Is that what we’re doing?” Alonso leans against Triquet, his heart easing. “Ah, Triquet. Thank you. I’d follow you anywhere.”

Jay shows them the contents of the duffel. “Indica for the aches and pains. And you get to sit on the bank and put your feet in the water. Look. I’ve got a blanket.”

He pushes his way through a stand of ferns, the ground covered in clover and luminous moss. They follow, finally fetching up at the edge of the pool. Alonso stares at the falling cascade, struck by its grace and beauty. “I saw it on the drone video. From above. But it is so much bigger than I thought it would be! It is glorious! But wait, Triquet. This is what you tried to dive through?”

Triquet makes a face. “Did I tell you how desperate I was at the time? And that it doesn’t look so dangerous from the other side?”

“You are crazy. I take back all the nice things I just said about you.” Alonso pushes on Triquet’s arm in jest.

“Definitely a baller move.” Jay puts a fleece blanket down over the irregular rock shelf at the pool’s edge. “And you still somehow escaped unscathed. You’ll have to teach me your ways.”

They lower Alonso’s suffering body onto the blanket. Soon, a game of three-handed cribbage is in full swing. They fall to silently arranging their cards and taking drags off the joint. Alonso’s head immediately starts to swim. He has never been much of a smoker but the high is similar enough to wine to be enjoyable.

“But wait. The whole point was to get Alonso’s feet in the water.”

Jay’s voice comes from a long way away. Oh no. Miriam was right. This is powerful shit. His perspective telescopes forward and back like in a Hitchcock movie. He drops his gaze to watch Triquet fuss with his shoes. Those are Alonso’s own feet but they seem so far away. Good. The pain is in the distance.

“Tell me if I’m going too fast.”

Yes, Triquet also sounds far away. Everyone is so far. How sad. It’s just Alonso and the waterfall now.

“Jay.” Triquet snaps their fingers in front of Alonso’s face, trying to get his attention. “I think you broke him.”

“Yeah, I doubt he had much access to weed in a VA hospital. Well, let’s get his feet in the water and see if that helps.”

The cold water against Alonso’s skin is like an electric shock. It jolts through him with an awful stab, jangling his nerves. But he doesn’t pull his feet out. The THC and its related cannabinoids soothe him as the shock turns to crystal cold vitality. There is life in this water. It runs up his legs, recharging him. As the cold eases the ache in his feet, circuits are completed within him for the first time in nearly six years and Alonso rouses himself.

“Fifteen-two, fifteen-four, and a run of three is seven.” Alonso startles them by adding up his score and pushing the cards toward Jay. He suddenly feels great, better than he has in years.

“Well well well.” Triquet nods, happy to see their efforts bearing fruit. Alonso’s face clears and for the very first time here on Lisica, he looks like the man Triquet saw when they first met. It was way back when they were an undergrad and Alonso came to Ann Arbor to lecture. Triquet had gotten an instant crush on the older man. He had been so stylish and accomplished. Not like the victim they’ve been nursing here the last couple weeks.

Triquet takes another light puff. No need to get wasted. This is just a little break in the day before getting back to urgent matters such as locating Flavia in the interior and establishing some kind of relationship with the Lisicans. “I’ve got a double run for eight.”

Jay frowns. “Well you didn’t tell me you were both some kind of goddamn card sharks. I’ve only got a pair. Two points. And the crib… is empty. Great.”

Alonso and Triquet laugh at Jay’s ill fortune.

He glares at them, struck by what oddballs they all are. Alonso is such a character and Triquet is a complete fucking original and Jay knows that he himself is something of a cartoon to most people. Without thinking how it might sound, he blurts, “Do you ever like wonder why normal people don’t come out on projects like this?”

An uncomfortable silence greets his words. Triquet looks at Jay like he just called them a slur. Alonso is embarrassed for him.

“What? I mean, like take my cousins in San Clemente for example. Got normal jobs. Weddings and kids and houses and cars. The whole suburban thing. Why aren’t any of them here?”

“Are you… trying to imply that I am not normal?” Triquet fights the growing knot of sickness in their gut. Not again. Not here.

Jay blinks at both of them, unable to process what the problem is. “Ohh. You think I mean normal in a good way? Nah, not at all. To me normal is an insult. I’ve done all I could my whole life to let my freak flag fly.”

“So… you’re a freak?”

“Hundred percent. Aren’t you?”

Alonso lifts a hand. “Jay.”

Triquet covers Alonso’s hand with their own, very much against needing someone else to speak for them. A deep breath helps dispel the growing impulse to shout at this clueless young man. “I don’t ever like reminding people of their privilege, Jay, but… Normalcy isn’t just like what bands you like or what sports team you follow. Leave it to the white guy to be like, ‘Ew, the normals. How tired is everybody of them?’ Well the rest of us don’t have that luxury. Being normal is whether you belong or are accepted by society at large. It can literally be the difference between life and death.”

“Fucking A, what a great speech.” Jay rocks back, mind blown. “That is some serious wisdom you’re dropping. But. At the same time. I mean. Normal still isn’t great. Can’t we do better? When we were all in high school me and my buddies said we’d never get married. Literally like all of our parents were divorced. What was the point? As an institution it just like curled up and died. Then last year, Glen came out as gay and said he was getting married. And the rest of us were like, Dude. I get it. You become a full legal member of society but this is our chance to build something I don’t know, better than marriage, more meaningful. Or just more accurate for modern relationships. And now suddenly we’re on opposite sides of this issue.”

“Why is that suddenly his responsibility?” Triquet shrugs off the claims made here. “Why does being in the vanguard for one issue mean that we’re all of a sudden responsible to reinvent this whole other thing that straight white dudes ruined? I’m not your savior. Glen isn’t going to clean up your messes. He probably just wants a car and a family in the suburbs, if he’s like most people.”

“Wow, these are all such amazing points.” Jay pounds on his knee. “You are so right. Glen’s totally got enough on his plate. His husband has health problems. They needed the medical coverage. So yeah. I’ll like spend my social capital on revolution and let him and Farrell raise kids and join the PTA. I am so glad you set my head straight about that, doc.” Jay takes another huge hit from the joint and offers it to Alonso, who declines. “So, what about you, Alonso? Would you ever get married?”

“My wife would never let me.”

Jay giggles. He passes the joint to Triquet instead. “And what about you, Triquet?”

Triquet takes a hefty drag then makes a face. “Me? Never. Marriage is for squares.”

Ξ

As morning turns to afternoon, Maahjabeen finds that her body is finally starting to obey her wishes again. She is getting range of motion back in her spine and shoulders. Excitement builds in her, a nervous energy running down her limbs. Her hands make fists, wanting to grasp the paddle again. Her toes flex to steer the rudder. But she isn’t anywhere near the water.

With a brief bark of residual pain she stands from her seat at the long tables inside the bunker, where she’d been collating data from Mandy’s weather station and comparing it to her readings of local currents. Maahjabeen stretches as Esquibel exits the clean room.

“I heard you exclaim.” Esquibel assesses Maahjabeen, watching the young woman raise her hands far over her head. “Ah, that’s some good flexibility, Maahjabeen. How does it feel?”

“It feels like it is time for me to get back on the water. How about you, Doctor Daine? Are you much of a boater?”

Esquibel makes a face and shakes her head no. “I keep my time on the water to steel-hulled ships. You people in your fragile little boats make me so nervous.”

Maahjabeen laughs. “Yes, well you sailors in your big ships make us paddlers nervous. Do you think you can help me get my baby to the beach? I miss the water so much.”

“Are you ready?” But Esquibel can tell Maahjabeen has reached the point in her recovery where she won’t be dissuaded. “This is the critical time right now for re-injury. You need to be careful.”

“Yes. Careful.” Maahjabeen swears to herself she will be. This enforced recovery has been driving her insane. She’ll do anything to make sure she never has to go through that again. Lifting a solemn hand, she swears, “On the graves of my ancestors, I won’t do anything stupid.”

“You mean, like carry a boat all the way around that fallen tree and down to the beach?” Esquibel shakes her head. Humans are so foolish. Especially the young ones. “Let’s find someone else to help me do it. You just keep doing some gentle stretching. And if you feel something twinge, I need you to shut it down, okay?”

“Yes. Shut it down. Ah! Here’s Amy. She’s strong.”

Amy enters the bunker, her smile flickering when she hears this. But she shakes her head and re-asserts her sunny disposition and approaches them. “Hello, everyone. Or, should I say, Bontiik, and then I nudge you under your chin like this.” Amy uses the second knuckle of her index finger to gently chuck Esquibel on the point of her chin. “That is how you greet someone in Lisican.”

Esquibel and Maahjabeen stare at Amy in shock. Things are evidently progressing much faster than they thought. Neither of them have been through the tunnels to the interior. To Esquibel it sounds forbidding, like a medical emergency waiting to happen. Maahjabeen has already had enough of the tunnels after trying to initially pursue Flavia. Also, the interior is too far from the shore, it’s the last place Maahjabeen wants to be.

“Lisican.” Maahjabeen tries the word. “Yes, I suppose… Is that what they call themselves?”

“Yes, well, their silver foxes. Katrina was right. They call them all forms of Lee-zee. Lisicha, Lisipatxo, Lisibaba. It was the word that we both understood and let them know I was ready to learn how to communicate. And then, wow. Once you gain their trust they’re really engaging. Very lively. And it’s funny for once to be the tallest person in the group.” Amy’s irrepressible giggle interrupts her story. “Now what did you need help with?”

“Can you help Esquibel carry my kayak to the beach? I need to be on the water. Just in the lagoon. Nothing ambitious. But I just never spend this much time on land. I am like a beached dolphin. Drying out and dying.”

Amy nods, sympathetic. “Of course. Of course. But only on one condition. No. Two.”

“Two conditions?” Maahjabeen assumes her bargaining face. Market-stall haggling is second nature to her. “What are they?”

“First, learn the greeting. Bontiik.” Amy chucks Maahjabeen under the chin.

Maahjabeen can’t deny that request. “Bontiik.” She reaches out and uncertainly touches Amy on the chin.

“I’m pretty sure the gesture has to be across the chin, like a gentle nudge. They kept correcting me.” Amy does it again.

Maahjabeen chucks Amy under the chin. “And your second condition?”

“That we bring both boats and I go out on the water with you.”

“Ehhh…” To Maahjabeen, the solitude the water brings is half what she needs. But before she can formulate an argument…

“Yes. Good plan.” Esquibel decides for her. “Now let’s get the boats. I can watch from shore. Get me out of my little room for a little while.” She fetches a hat and sunglasses.

Maahjabeen accepts her fate. The lagoon is large. Perhaps they can split up at some point and she can get some time alone.

It takes another ten minutes for everyone to gather their things and pull the boats out from under the big platform. Amy in front, Esquibel in back, they each hold the handle of a boat in both hands to carry them at the same time. They’ve loaded the cockpits and hatches with the few things they need. Amy has brought her own hat and a pair of the Dyson readers.

Maahjabeen hates this new giant fallen redwood trunk across the beach. It prevents her from being able to see as much of the water as she could before from camp and it prevents access. She just wants it gone. But it is just so huge there is no way they will ever be able to move it. Well. God has a plan. Inshallah.

To get around the roots they have to put the blue boat down and carry the yellow one first, then return for the second one to slowly navigate it through the choked passage. Finally they bring the kayaks to the shore and put Maahjabeen in place. They shove her off and she’s free, she’s actually free again once more.

Her shoulders still hurt when she paddles but she doesn’t care. This is the exact movement that originally injured her after all, but these are also the muscles that are strongest in her. Her body knows she must paddle. It is what she is built to do.

Within a dozen strokes she’s across the lagoon and getting swept across the inner face of the barrier rocks in an ebbtide current. With a strong dig in the water, she pivots and dances back out of the current before it brings her to the mouth of the lagoon. She paddles back, surprised to see Amy already in the water, churning out to her with short, powerful strokes that lift the nose of the blue boat above the waterline. Maahjabeen had been about to demand the same proficiency roll as she had of Pradeep, but Amy’s handling is so expert it would be nothing but bad manners. Well. At least she won’t have to worry about Amy drowning out here.

“Ohh this is so nice getting back out on the water again.” Amy leans her head back and sighs. “There was a time I basically lived on the water. Monterey Bay. Do you know it?”

“I have heard of it but I have never been to the United States.”

“Oh, we’ve got some fantastic paddling all over the country. I managed the sea lion populations for a number of years there. About twelve. And summers were up in Resurrection Bay, Alaska running killer whale trips for tourists. Isn’t kayaking the best?”

“God provides,” is all Maahjabeen can manage, suddenly afraid that this blocky old Japanese woman has more experience in the one thing that makes Maahjabeen special and the one valuable skill she can bring to this project. No. But that is not the case. She is still the only marine researcher here, the only one who can tell them what is happening in the wider ocean around them. That is, if she can ever actually access it.

Amy trails her hand in the frigid water. “Oh, look at all this sea grass. If it was any warmer we’d be snorkeling down there daily. But I don’t have a wetsuit for these temperatures. Do you?”

Maahjabeen shakes her head no, remembering how she forbid the use of the lagoon to Katrina. Could she do the same for Amy? She doubted it. The biologist has a clear right to be here, studying the life forms and making whatever collections she wants, despite Maahjabeen’s desire to keep the lagoon pristine.

“How’s the shoulders?” Amy’s maternal concern does make Maahjabeen regret her selfishness and she smiles in gratitude.

“Fine. Better. The more I paddle the better they feel. But look. You will appreciate this.” Maahjabeen navigates her boat to the mouth of the lagoon so they can both study the impassable rollers. “Here is the door to my jail cell. Without an outboard motor or a killer whale’s tail I just can’t get over those wave tops. The only time I could was before the storm.”

“Yes, I’ve been watching the ocean too. Big Japanese past-time, you know. Get the rhythm of the local tides in your blood. And talk to everyone you see about the weather. Basically every Japanese conversation starts and ends with weather. All the natural cycles.”

Maahjabeen only listens, staring at the unending rollers. Great. Amy might be a better oceanographer than her as well. Now what is Maahjabeen good for here? Leading morning prayer?

“It is a puzzle, though, isn’t it?” Amy paddles past the mouth, skipping her boat across the strong current before it can take her. “The thing is, I think if we get down to this angle we might see something.” She continues on toward the barrier rocks right off the eastern point. “Oh, this is a much better vantage point than what I’ve been able to see from the beach. Yes… Watch what happens when this sea stack gets hit by the second wave. The big one.”

Maahjabeen follows and waits. The wave hits the wall of rock with a crump, spraying a massive wall of white foam outward. Then on the return it sucks the surrounding water in.

“Watch here. See how that draw drops the next wave? Just like stops it in its tracks, but just right here.”

Maahjabeen nods, elated. “And the next one too. So the first two waves of the set get canceled here? There might be enough space to pass. But that’s awfully close to the rock.”

“Yeah, it’s a sprint for sure. But if you watch, there’s an epicycle. Every twentieth or twenty-first set is a much bigger wave that cancels out the next five.”

“Five waves of a set? That’s nearly a minute. I could get across that stretch in a minute no problem.”

“Yes, well, the benefits of patience.”

Now Maahjabeen is fairly certain Amy is a better oceanographer than she is. And just a better scientist in general. Her CV must be outrageous. And that collegial manner pays so many dividends. If Maahjabeen had been less reserved and territorial she may have learned these important things earlier. But it was not to be helped. She’d dealt with so much insanity on her previous jobs she needed to learn how to trust people again. Now she is just grateful to be in a position to have things go right. And she might even get out past the rollers after all! “Inshallah!” Oh, God does provide!

“You can say that again!” Amy laughs, wowed by the sudden transformation in Maahjabeen. Good lord but the young lady has the most scintillating smile. And her excitement to face the open ocean is infectious. Amy can’t wait to go herself.

But wait. Mandy is back on the shore, waving them in. Esquibel stands beside her, talking. But Mandy is intent on getting their attention. “Oh, no.” Maahjabeen slumps. “Not again.”

Amy paddles close to shore. “Another storm?”

Mandy nods. “Another storm.”

They take one more long paddle around the lagoon, Maahjabeen intent on getting her body right. Then they haul the boats from the water as the western wind strengthens and that corner of the sky begins to darken. With a sigh, Maahjabeen rests the paddle across her shoulders and supervises Esquibel and Amy’s packing.

“Look.” Mandy touches Maahjabeen’s shoulder. She points behind them. Pradeep is there, at the fallen redwood. He has collected the thick shell pieces of its bark that fell off on impact and he is now building a modest lean-to up against the trunk. When he sees them watching he motions to them.

Mandy and Maahjabeen approach. Pradeep lifts the largest bark pieces above, to serve as a roof. He ties them down with twine. “How do you like it?”

“So cozy!” Mandy ducks within.

Maahjabeen turns and asks loudly enough for Esquibel to hear, “I thought we weren’t supposed to build any structures?”

Esquibel, carrying both kayaks with Amy, looks at the lean-to with a pinched expression. She shrugs. “I can’t imagine it looks like a structure from above.”

“The satellites are fooled!” Pradeep celebrates by placing a lintel over the door. He ties it off then bows formally to Maahjabeen. “Your Highness. May I present you with the keys?”

She laughs, unsure what the joke is.

“Take a look in here!” Mandy pulls Maahjabeen inside, where the wind dies and the light fades to near perfect darkness.

“Very snug.” Now that Maahjabeen is out of the water she is hungry and just wants to get back to camp.

Pradeep appears in the tilted handmade door. “No. I don’t think you get what I’m saying. This is yours, Maahjabeen. I know how hard it’s been for you dealing with all us land-lubbers. So I built this as your own place. A cottage by the sea.”

Maahjabeen claps her hands over her mouth. Oh, dear God. This is hers? It is perfect. There’s a window overlooking the lagoon and everything. And it is so private here on this side of that huge log. It is just her and the sea.

Maahjabeen grabs Pradeep’s hand and squeezes it. “Thank you. Oh, Pradeep, thank you so much. It is perfect.”

“Just a few more tweaks here and there.” His hands won’t stop working on it. “And then we can move you in. Come on, Mandy. Let’s go get her things.”

“Yeah, Maahjabeen,” Mandy blows her a kiss. “You stay here.”

Maahjabeen sits in the doorway watching the lagoon and the rollers beyond. What is this filling her heart, this overwhelming pressure of light and happiness? The word finally comes to her: Abundance. “Inshallah.” God provides again and again.