Date: Thu, 9 Feb 1995 12:52:55 -0500 Reply-To: NancySSCH@AOL.COM Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: "N.L. Cleveland" Subject: Aloha Epilogue. p 7-12 c 1995 N.L. Cleveland Paying cash for his purchases, staples that should keep them out of town for at least a month, Jonathan headed back to the jeep, edging around a group of overdeveloped physical specimens..tanned, bleached blonde beach bums here for the wind surfing and pick up scene ..who were engaging in a shoving match in the parking lot, laughing drunkenly as they flexed their muscles and bounced one another off their garishly painted vans. They were obviously the remnants of a party from last night that simply would not quit. He wondered if he had come far enough away from the crowds. Maui had been a quiet corner of the world, when he'd first purchased and planned his wilderness retreat here. Now, the crush of packaged tours brought larger and larger numbers of refugees from the frigid winters of the north, and inevitably, a few..more and more, it seemed, every year...fell in love with the rapidly disappearing beauty and relaxed pace of the island, and remained. He would just avoid them, as he always had. He hoped they would return the favor. "It's me." He reassured the boy, before placing his bags of supplies in the open back seat. Fujio sat calmly, all his flu symptoms magically abated. The child seemed to have a natural gift, was a consummate actor, and had delighted in playing a key role in easing their escape. Taking the responsibility seriously, preparing for the role by rehearsing coughs and sneezes, sniffles and signs of a queasy stomach, to Jonathan's bemused critical acclaim, for hours, as they fled. Elaborating his presentation, as he thought of new ways to project nausea, to act feverish and sick. Jonathan reminded him self to compliment the youth, later. To make an admiring joke about his dramatic abilities. And to expand the boy's repertoire, with additional exercises and training. Acting was a useful gift, but one that could always be polished and trained. One that would serve the boy well, later, in whatever pursuit he chose. Just now, Fujio was listening to the shoving match going on a few yards away, an intent, focused expression on his face as he tried to track the position of the noisy celebrants by their voices and footsteps. Jonathan swung over the closed door and into the driver's seat, pushed the key into the ignition and started the jeep. Prepared to back out, and stopped, abruptly, as two of the men mock wrestled across his rear bumper, one with a half Nelson around the other's neck, both laughing uproariously. Jonathan sighed, held onto his temper, and waited for them to disengage themselves from his car, and move aside so he could leave. The last thing he wanted here was to be visible. He only wanted to sink back into the wilderness with Fujio and disappear. And any kind of altercation with these drunken fools would only give him visibility. So he kept the pleasant, neutral expression on his face, and sat, patiently. Unfortunately that didn't seem to be the right approach here. "Yo, Joey, lookey here. Its a Jap kid and his old man." The larger, and evidently more observant of the two, let go of his opponent's neck. Turned to more interesting quarry. The two men walked up along either side of the jeep, holding on to the doors, and stared down at Jonathan and his small companion, looking for a pushover, for victims to bully. Jonathan had seen it all before. Would see it again, no doubt. He reached out to Fujio's nervous, tense form next to him. Touched the boy's wrist, once, in the clan's silent code. Signaling the boy to be still, to be silent. Felt the boy relax into a watchful cautiousness. Pulled his hand away, satisfied that the youth would not attempt to act, or to interfere, in what was to come. "We don't want any trouble." He kept his tone mild, his face calm. Planning his next actions to the second. He saw no reason to drag this incident out. The longer he let them play, the more the others, still oblivious to this little drama, would be drawn in. The more potential for real violence, and the more witnesses there'd be, to tell tales later to the police. The second man opened his mouth, preparing to deliver some racist homily that Jonathan had absolutely no interest in hearing. Reaching for Fujio's head, for his face. Reaching for the sunglasses that shielded the boy's ruined eyes from public view. Jonathan moved, instantly, half rising from his seat, slapping out with his open hands, the backs of his palms connecting explosively with the faces of the two men, snapping their necks back and throwing them both off balance, away from the side of his jeep. He'd pulled the blows, tempered them and softened them precisely. Had only broken their noses, smashed their cheeks, this time. Had left them alive. This time. He shoved the idling engine into gear and backed fast and straight out of the lot, tires squealing. Left the two men standing there, hands patting ineffectually at their bloody faces. Their friends just starting to realize something had happened, had gone wrong. Turned the vehicle, jerked it into forward, and took off down the road, stretching the capabilities of the extra horses under the hood to the max. Heading for the mountains. Heading north, and east, up the Hana Highway, towards his retreat. Damning the encroaching arms of *civilization* as he drove. Drove rapidly, skillfully, along roads he'd memorized in the dark, outdistancing any possible pursuit. Maybe the food could last *two* months....or maybe he'd try the other side of the island, the next time he needed supplies. The carefully mud daubed plates would give them no way to trace him now, no handle, no name to report to the police. But still...he had barely been on the island an hour, and already, this... He glanced at Fujio, reassured to see the boy still calm, apparently unfazed by the abrupt departure they'd just made. "Everything ok, kid?" He still spoke to the youth in Japanese, but learning English would be a priority for the child. Learning how to blend in, how to survive in this new and alien culture. Jonathan needed to give him all the tools he could. So the boy would be free to make his own choices, live his own life, when it was time. "Will you teach me how to do that?" Fujio's voice held a wistful, almost pleading tone. "You got them both, didn't you?" His blind eyes, still hidden behind the festive glasses, so at odds with his expression, his voice, seemed to rest on Jonathan, as if peering into his soul. The Immortal shrugged uncomfortably. Shifted, in his seat. Thought of all the possible half evasions he could give, and then settled on the hard, bitter truth. "I don't think its something you could do, quite like that, the way things are..." He paused, searching for something he could offer the boy, some alternative, some other skill, some gift. "I can show you how to use the dark... to your advantage. We'll start to work on that, tonight. And yes...I got them both. You're very observant. You'll find that will help, tonight." The boy accepted his crumb. Trading Jonathan a smile, for the promise. Settled back, satisfied. For the moment. Jonathan feared the Fujio may still have been under the youthfully optimistic delusion that he was going to get better, that his sight might one day come back. Jonathan was familiar with the syndrome. For months, years after his parents were killed, he'd prayed to all the gods in the Christian and Shinto constellations. .begging them, promising them, offering them his heart and soul, if only they would bring his parents back to life. That fervor had evolved, inevitably, into bitter disappointment, disbelief, rejection of the gods and all their faiths, and the rock hard crust around his heart that had sealed in the hatred and passion for revenge. It was what he did not want to see happen to Fujio. Why he had stolen the child away with him, to keep him near, keep him close and safe and understood. To let him be able to talk out, act out, those hopes and hates and fears, those inevitable disappointments and despair. To be there, for the youth, then. And now, to be his teacher, and protector. Mentor, and guardian. Ahead of them, the road wound into the jagged, green edged mountain peaks. Climbing the crumbling, eroded side of the ancient volcano. Haleakala. Disappearing into fog and mist, as the rain swept along the flanks of the hills, hinting at a brief respite from the muggy, oppressive heat. He glanced in the rearview mirror, one last time. Still no sign of any pursuit. Even if the motley crowd from the market had tried to follow, they never would have caught up to them. He steered the Jeep off the paved highway, onto a slippery muddy path, barely two tire tracks through the luxuriant foliage of the rain forest. Moisture dripped across his face and beaded the windshield in front of him, as the overhanging fern trees shed their warm, wet shower on the hapless pair in the open Jeep. Jonathan had handed Fujio his rain poncho, before the storm had reached them, and the the youth was nestled, warm, and relatively dry, in the voluminous folds of the camouflage dappled gore tex. Jonathan, on the other hand, was hardly dry. He smiled, feeling a large drop slide down the side of his nose, and caught the fresh warm rain with his tongue, savoring the slightly sweet, slightly salty taste of the fire god's tears. He had chosen this site in the rainforest, intentionally. He could have picked a spot with the dry, sunny climate that the snowbirds came for. But he didn't want company, and didn't want to live in the open fields, or on the cracked and desert dry black lava flows that had never sprouted life again, in over a hundred years. He wanted to live among the wild, flourishing tangle of the trees and ferns and orchids that covered the wet side of the island. Wanted to enjoy the tremendous diversity of life that the generous water brought in its wake. Wanted to watch and feel, creation, at work. And a little rain, a little wet, was not too high a price to pay. Buying the place back from Ski, on the other hand....he still winced at the dent that had made in his bank account. But his agent had executed his instructions faithfully. "No price is too high," Jonathan had said. And Ski now had a nest egg, a secure pot of gold to fall back on, for the rest of his life. And Jonathan, well, he still had enough. Enough to get by, until he decided to move on. And by then, the land would probably be worth close to what he'd paid for it...he hoped. They arrived at the edge of a tall chain link fence. Topped with curling barbed wire. The outer boundary of his land. The fence, the wire, a bitter concession to the realities of owing land here, where anyone could live, outdoors, year round, with only a blanket needed for warmth at night, and a machete to hack down the coconuts and open the heart of the sugar cane. Jonathan had found too many would be modern primitives, camping or squatting, on his land, in the past. Too many fern trees, trampled and destroyed, their branching fronds burned for light at night or hacked off to provide sunshade during the day. Too many piles of trash and rotting food, hot dogs, wrappers, styrofoam. Even here, even miles from the nearest city, the nearest town. So the fence went up. And so far, it had been an effective deterrent. Closing off his 100 acres, keeping it safe from casual trespass. For more determined intruders, there were other deterrents. But those were secret. Hidden. Used only as a last resort. Never used, yet. The faint trail disappeared, here. Ended, in the thick vegetation. A huge banyan tree loomed in the forest to the right, and he turned the jeep towards its arching roots, its sheltering branches, and parked. The signs of their passage off the road would be washed away by the rain. The trail was only known to those who lived around here, or hiked the land. And was virtually invisible from the road. To the casual tourist, would be invisible. He expected no visitors. No followers, at least. The gate, the padlock undisturbed since his buyer had inspected the property last week, sat waiting. He fished the key from his pocket, and turned to the boy, now almost completely hidden under the poncho. "We're here, Fujio. We're home." Jonathan hoped the words would not be an anticlimax. A disappointment to the youth. Braced himself to deal with a possibly irritable, whining child. The boy tossed aside the raingear, and stood, his arms out, as if feeling the air. Smiling broadly. Wrinkling his nose in comical surprise as he drew in the exotic mix of thick, lush, moldy, sweet, earthy scents that surrounded them, that permeated the atmosphere here. Then he took off the sunglasses. Folded them neatly and put them in his shirt's breast pocket. Turned his scarred, battered face, to Jonathan. "I won't need these, now. Let's go." Barely suppressed excitement surged in the youth's voice. Anticipation, for the adventure ahead. Trust, in the man who had brought him here. Jonathan's throat tightened for a moment. He was so proud of this child. Loved him so much. Wanted so much to make up for all the wrongs that had been done to him. That he had helped do, to him. He hoped, prayed, that he was doing the right thing, now. Making the right decision, for the future of this boy's life. "Fine." Jonathan climbed from the Jeep, then reached over the door and swung Fujio down to the soft, muddy ground. Handed him a rucksack from the supply pack in the back, and filled it loosely with some of their groceries. "I can carry more!" The boy was insistent, and Jonathan reluctantly stuffed a few more of the lighter, bulkier items into the now bulging pack. He didn't want the child's natural optimism to lead him on to disaster, so soon. The ground would be slick, ahead, and the terrain unknown, unfamiliar, to the sightless eyes of the youth. He didn't want this first entry to their retreat to be a series of falls and scrambling near falls, for Fujio. Wanted him to be able to walk, and enjoy himself. To be relaxed. To explore the new scents, new shapes and textures and terrain they would encounter. "I think that's enough, for now." Jonathan put his hand on Fujio's shoulder. Let it rest there, feeling the warmth flow between them. Holding the child back from his eagerness to dash into the unknown....for the moment. "I'll be ready in a second. Just wait for this feeble oldster to catch up with you, young man." The boy laughed in innocent delight at this teasing, and stood still, a mock solemn expression on his face. "Certainly, honored sir. May I carry your cane for you as well?" Jonathan growled at him, and tightened his grasp on the child's shoulder. "Be careful what you offer to do, or you'll find yourself carrying me as well as all the supplies." "Anything you ask." Fujio straightened his back, standing tall, and proud. "I can handle it. Just tell me what to do." "Right now, all I ask is that this gnat buzzing around my ears be silent for a moment so I can hear myself think" Jonathan covered his pride in the child with the casual words. Gave Fujio's shoulder a last, comradely squeeze, and turned to the rear of the Jeep, where he'd put the heavier, more fragile material, equipment that had been packed and waiting for them with the vehicle. Another laptop computer, and a powerful hand held cellular phone. Solar absorption tiles and a high capacity storage battery that could be recharged almost endlessly and used to operate those few crucial pieces of electronics. Another, spare katana. One he would use to teach the child how to fight, eventually. And a small collection of the highly lethal tools of his former trade. Just in case some unwanted visitors came calling. Jonathan switched off the power cable to the Jeep's ignition. He'd specified he wanted two cut out switches, to slow down any would be thieves. He hardly relished the idea of walking to the nearest town should an emergency arise with the child. He pulled the weatherproof tarp across its open shell, to keep out the future, inevitable showers. He shrugged his densely filled rucksack onto his shoulders, pocketed the key to the jeep, and gave the boy his hand. Led him along the edge of the fence, past the towering bulk of the banyan tree, to the semi-concealed gate that waited, the electronic lock gleaming in the moist air, drawing its energy from the low grade electrical current that ran though the solar powered fence. He guided the child's fingers beneath his own, teaching him the first skill he would need, if he ever had to flee this place alone... as he punched in the alphanumeric code...a seven key code, almost impossible to crack by chance, and the lock clicked open. He rolled the sliding gate panel aside, and ushered the boy in. Slid the fence shut again, behind them, and took a deep, relaxing breath. They were home now. Truly home. In the mist filled woods ahead, a flock of tiny orange and yellow birds darted and fluttered, calling out in descending, warbling trills to one another as they hopped across the forest floor. Quiet calls of "ke-wit, ke-wit" passed between their bright feathered forms, and Jonathan touched the boy's wrist, signing for him to stop. "Listen. Do you hear them?" The child nodded, his head cocked sideways as he listened carefully to the delicate song of the birds. "Those are the Akepa. They're one of the few remaining native species here. Very shy. Very rare." He watched as the child nodded again, his face intent. "They've come to welcome you, Fujio. A very great honor." Jonathan smiled as he spoke, and the child's sudden grin matched his own. Fujio drew himself erect, and bowed, once, formally, in the direction of the trilling flock. "And I return their welcome. I am glad to be here." There was such certainly in the boy's voice. Such innocence. Such trust. Jonathan was not sure he fully controlled his own voice. He kept his response to a minimum. Kept it short, to keep the complex mix of emotions he felt from intruding on his tone, from shifting the meaning of his words. "Good. Let's go, then." They marched into the tropical forest, preceded by their miniature heralds, the flock moving away, always just within sight and sound, ahead of them. Leading them on towards a new, and different life. (more to come....) =========================================================================