Losing You (Finding You Series Book 2) (4 page)

The bat flew off, leaving just the crickets. My mind wandered for a long time until eventually exhaustion pulled me once again into an easy slumber. The nightmares of my ordeal hadn’t come yet, but they would no doubt emerge as readily as they had when John had stolen my dignity. My new fight for life somehow overshadowed my past suffering.

I awoke with a start. Jasmine was back with more food. She wasn’t trying to starve me, that’s for sure. The bowl of fruit from breakfast sat on the floor, where I’d placed it before drifting off. I’d have to start eating otherwise it was going to start piling up.

As the aloof woman sat on the bed, I glanced into a woven basket she carried. It was filled with something that resembled a vegetable stir-fry. It actually looked quite delicious. My stomach grumbled loudly.

Jasmine noticed the fruit bowl on the floor and must have thought I was shunning her food. Technically, I had earlier, but as time wore on, hunger started calling.

“You have to eat food or you stay sick. I get told to bring you food, so here I am with dinner. You sleep through lunch.”

“What time is it?”

She shook her head and gave me a look as if she didn’t have a clue what time it was. In all honesty, I was starting to think she probably didn’t.

“I finish my dinner then bring you some. Eat.”

With feathers ruffled, Jasmine helped sit me up more against the bedhead and then she took some of the vegetable medley on a bamboo spoon and pushed it into my mouth, giving me no time to protest. I could do nothing but chew.

“I can do it!” I barked, grabbing the spoon from her and taking another mouthful. It appeared that this time she was going to wait to make sure I ate it all.

I used her presence to my benefit to try and get more answers.

“Where is everyone else? I need to thank the people that saved me.” I’d only seen Jasmine so far and was starting to think that she was the only other person on the island but I knew that couldn’t be true because I’d been rescued by fishermen. Where were they? I hadn’t even heard another person, which I thought was strange.

“They live further down that way.” She was pointing behind me. “They busy.”

It’s not that I’d expected visitors but surely someone would have walked nearby or at least been curious about the new addition to their clan. I was starting to wonder if I’d been alienated on purpose.

I caught movement from out my left eye. I pivoted my head around.

All I could make out in the darkness was a small shape. It was half hidden behind a bush. Animal or child?

Jasmine swung on her heel and called out. “Daniel. Go.”

Without further ado the silhouette moved and vanished.

Now I was curious.

“Who was that?”

“No one. You eat so I can go.”

Well! The first sign of other life around me and he gets sent away. What’s with that? Did Jasmine not want me to meet other people? Why? I now knew that it wasn’t an animal but a male named Daniel. Judging by his height, he was a boy.

I couldn’t hold back. “Is Daniel your son?”

“Yes.”

Hmm. Interesting. Poor child if his mother was as abrupt with him as she was with me.

“Why didn’t you let him come to meet me? I’d love to see some other people.”

If looks could kill, I’d be dead. She shot daggers at me as she raised her voice, “Daniel not to visit. Send him away if he comes.”

I knew I was putting a nail in my own coffin by asking but I had to. “Why?”

“Because I said! You not ask questions!”

Calm down! Sheesh! I was only asking.

I figured I’d better leave it alone for now. After all, she was the hand that fed me.

Something was off about Jasmine and her attitude towards me, though. It seemed above and beyond my being a burden.

If I could just get up and move around, I wouldn’t feel so much like her responsibility. I’d like to explore my surroundings and see just what sort of an island I was on.

I managed to finish all my dinner, which was surprising, considering the giant mound of it in the bowl. I was as full as I could get. “Would you mind leaving the fruit here until breakfast tomorrow? I can’t fit another thing in.”

Jasmine let out a huff and took my empty bowl and spoon and left me to it. Solitude was better than her for company anyway.

***

The rest of the week, or what I thought to be the rest of the week, because in all honesty it was hard to know what day it was, dragged. Unable to get off the bed due to my injured leg and embarrassingly having to relieve myself using a makeshift bedpan that Jasmine begrudgingly helped me with, I spent hours daydreaming about my reunion with Kyle, drifting in and out of sleep, feeling more human as each day passed.

At the end of the sixth day, which I’d worked out using the sunsets and sunrises, I was strong enough to prop myself up on my elbows in bed and sit up on my own without having to lean against anything to properly look at my surroundings. Progress!

The ocean could be heard distantly, depending on what way the wind blustered, so I wasn’t too far from it.

I decided the sea was no longer my friend. I was angry at it for taking the lives of so many innocent people and for holding me in its clutches until it was almost too late. Never seeing it again would be too soon.

Jasmine continued to bathe me and bring me food, checking my wound every couple of days. After the accident I’d been given a rag of a dress to wear with holes in it and frayed edges. I still had my bra but the shorts had been removed. They’d been torn and covered in blood anyway, so I was grateful they’d been taken away. They would only serve to remind me of the crash.

Getting conversation from my solemn nurse was like pulling teeth; slow and painful. I was soon going to give up altogether. It was just too much effort.

On one particular humid day after Jasmine had finished bathing me and returned to wherever it was she came from, a shape appeared in the bushes. I couldn’t be sure but maybe it was Jasmine’s son coming to relieve his curiosity about the strange woman on his island. He darted to and fro amongst the greenery, peering at me through the leaves. I could see him so much clearer in the light of day even if he was half hidden. The young, curly haired boy seemed to be playing hide and seek with me. He had ants in his pants and couldn’t sit still long enough to remain out of my view.

“Hello there!” I called, blowing his cover.

He froze as if not sure what to do.

“It’s okay, I can see you. Come out so I can meet you. I won’t bite.”

I heard a chuckle but the boy didn’t move.

“What is your name?”

He crouched down, looking at me through a hole in the shrubbery. I smiled at him encouragingly.

“Daniel! My name is Daniel.”

His soft voice delighted me. Politely, pronouncing each letter fully so as to be understood, I introduced myself. “Hello. I’m Dakota. It’s nice to meet you. Why don’t you come closer so I can see you better?” I motioned with my hands for him to come towards me and I could see him hesitate. He looked to the right, searching for clearance. When he looked back at me, I nodded. Very slowly he stood and moved out from the bushes, taking tentative steps towards me. I kept a soft expression on my face and held out my hand to him. “It’s okay. I won’t hurt you.”

His chocolate eyes kept darting around, on the lookout for something I wasn’t quite sure of.

Dark curls hung down his forehead and neck. At a guess, I would pick him as a twelve year old, bordering on a growth spurt maybe. His clothes were neat and fairly modern. I made a mental note of it. Where would he get brightly colored shorts and a tee shirt from? They certainly couldn’t be made on the island.

It took another moment for him to reach me, his hesitance written all over his face.

I held out my hand for him to shake. He didn’t seem to know what I was doing so I had to guide him. “Go on. Take my hand and shake it. That is my custom where I come from. It’s to say hello to someone.”

Eyeing my hand, he brought his arm up and grabbed my hand, shaking it sideways.

I laughed when he kept on doing it. “You can stop now. We only do it for a few seconds and we shake it up and down like this, not sideways.” I showed him correctly and it pulled a small smile from him.

“Please sit. You’re my first real visitor apart from Jasmine. Are you her son?”

He nodded, looking down. I couldn’t read his eyes from this angle. Shyness maybe? Jasmine’s words rang in my head that I was supposed to tell him to go away but I just couldn’t. I needed some company from someone other than
her.

“It’s nice to meet you, Daniel. How old are you?”

“I’m approximately twelve.”

“Approximately?”

“Yes. I’m not sure.”

“Don’t you know when you were born?”

“Not really.”

“Oh.” What else could I say to that?

“How many other people live on the island?” If I couldn’t get answers from Jasmine, I would try and get them out of Daniel.

“There are quite a few of us. Quite a few families.”

He spoke very good English for an island boy. Another observation. Nice clothes, speaks English. I had to do it. It was eating away at me. “How come you speak such good English and wear modern clothes?”

He looked at me then and I nearly reeled backwards onto the bed.

The dark colored, heavily lashed eyes mirrored my own in so many ways. Not by color but by some untold story. The way they darted nervously from side to side, unable to keep contact, the trauma of something sinister. An edginess that I knew too well. Why did such a young boy look so sad? His eyes were filled with words that could not be expressed verbally, as if his spirit was broken. I wanted to reach out to him and wrap my arms around what it was that troubled him so. Looking through him, I focused on his aura. There were so many holes around it, I mentally cursed. Too much gray. Way too much gray. This boy was troubled. His aura should be vibrant, not murky.

Suddenly my heart bled for the boy. I could relate to him so well. I knew what it felt like to feel sad and un-validated.

A voice boomed out into the stillness. “Daniel!” It was like thunder.

Daniel stood, shoulders stiff, looking at me with panic-filled eyes. “I must go. My father is looking for me.” It only took two seconds for him to disappear as he ran, not looking back, failing to answer my question.

Unease settled in my chest, letting me know that something was up.

Chapter Six

Kyle

The two-week anniversary of Dakota’s passing came and went. I had, by some miracle and great degree of effort, finished what was required of me in the movie and decided it was time to head home. There was no point in hanging around. My parents were concerned and had insisted I return home to stay with them for a while, where my mother could coddle me and make sure I was eating properly, which I hadn’t been. My sleep had withered to a couple of hours a night and I generally looked like a vagrant. I was hurting in a way I never thought possible and wondered how I would be able to go on. Life as I knew it was now so very different and it would never be the same again.

As I left the resort, Ramah hugged me tightly, sadness in her voice. “It’s just so unbelievable. She was such a lovely girl. I can’t comprehend that she’s gone. It’s such a terrible waste of a young life. Are you going to be all right, Kyle?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be all right again. It’s just crazy. I don’t think it’s really even sunk in yet that I’ll never see her again.” I had no real closure. It still felt like she was away seeing her father as she’d planned. In some deluded way, I was still waiting for her call.

“You take good care of yourself,” said Hayden. “The last thing we want is to hear that something has happened to you. The days will get easier and you’ll somehow find a way to cope.”

I hugged Hayden, trying to take in his words but somehow no matter what anyone said, I just couldn’t believe that everything would get better. Ever. I wanted things to be the way they were. The way they should be.

It felt strange to be leaving the island that had become like a home to me. It had played such a big part in my life, and somehow I felt like I was leaving that part of my life behind.

***

The trip back to Los Angeles couldn’t have gone any slower. I dozed some of the way and sat staring out the window the rest, trying to make sense of what had happened. I turned down the meal the stewardess offered, not in the slightest bit hungry. Every second seemed like hours, dragging the trip on for so long that I could barely believe it when we touched down.

I was home, yet it didn’t bring with it the bubbly rush of familiarity. It brought angst and mourning. The smog seemed thicker, a dense blanket over the blue. Sunlight strained to crack the gloomy barrier.

The gang of people in arrivals was crushing. Immature, makeup-laden teens screamed and yelled my name, while cameras clicked repeatedly. A girl broke away from the mob, running up to me with a pen and paper, wanting an autograph.

“Kyle, could you please sign this for me?” she begged, frantically, blocking my path. The rest of the group ran over as well, all talking at once, asking me anything they could think of.

Not in the mood to face any fans or media, I pushed through them.

“I’m not up to signing anything today. I’d just like to be left alone. I’m sorry,” I apologized, annoyed that my arrival had somehow been leaked to the media. Cameras were flashing left, right, and center by this stage as spectators swarmed around to see what was so appealing.

Keeping my head low, I fought my way through, wondering how people could be so insensitive in my time of crisis. Had they not learned of the tragedy or did they just not care?

A hand seized my arm and pulled me out of the growing crowd, which by now was starting to suffocate me.

“Will you all just go home and leave us in peace? Can’t you see Kyle is upset and doesn’t feel up to signing autographs or posing for cameras? Have you people got no compassion?”

As we broke free from the media circus and hurried to a quieter part of the airport, I turned to discover who had saved me. A familiar face in a sea of strangers. A face that would help guide me through my grief. A face that had always been there for me no matter what, and a face that I could rely on to nurture me and love me. My father!

Our eyes met and silently spoke to each other as Dad acknowledged my pain.

“Hello, son! Welcome home!” He pulled me into his fiercely protective arms.

A man of few words, yet a mentor and idol to me, he looked younger than his sixty years. With only specks of grey hair and the same blue eyes as me, we looked more like brothers than father and son. I was too choked up to speak but knew that it didn’t matter now. I didn’t need to pretend I was okay.

A stray camera clicked in the background, triggering an uncharacteristic reply from my father. He pulled away from me and walked over to the culprit.

“For crying out loud, can you give us some privacy? This is not the time nor the place to be taking photos. I don’t care how much you’re getting paid!”

He snatched the camera the spectator was holding and threw it as far as he could, which sent the man in a mad dash after it, probably hoping it wouldn’t be broken.

“Now go away and leave us in peace. The show’s over!” He walked back to me and took my arm, leading me out of the airport and over to the car.

“I’m sorry, son. I didn’t know they’d all be here. I’m sure that’s the last thing you need right now.”

“Thanks, Dad! I know I can always count on you. It’s great to be home and I’m looking forward to seeing Mom again. How is she?”

“She’s fine but worried about you. How are you doing?”

“I’ve been better.”

Dad hit the remote for the trunk and then stood facing me with a hand on my shoulder. “She must have been one special woman, son. I can’t pretend to know what you’re going through but I’m here for you if you need me.”

“Thanks, Dad. It means a lot to me. I know you didn’t get to meet her but you would have loved her. She was so beautiful! Not just on the outside but on the inside, too. It’s so hard to describe. We both just knew we wanted to be together. I think from the moment I spotted her sitting near me at a table in the restaurant, I knew she was the one.”

Dad lifted the luggage into the trunk and walked to the driver’s door. “I knew she must have been pretty special, the way you spoke of her on the phone. Who would believe that just a few days later there would be such a terrible disaster?”

I could feel my eyes moisten just thinking of that fact so I climbed into the car without saying a word. Dad didn’t push the subject so we both settled into a comfortable silence.

The trip along the interstate was chaotic as usual. I had forgotten what traffic in a big city was like for a while. The busiest day on the island had been two cabs on the road at the same time. Now, as we traveled the wide freeways, weaving in and out of trucks, buses, cabs, mopeds, motorbikes, cars and anything else with wheels while listening to the incessant racket of horns hooting, I wondered how I’d ever driven in it.

We left the urban jungle and its smoky shroud, exiting the freeway and shifting into the outer suburbs. My parents’ house was about an hour’s drive from downtown Los Angeles in a fine, quiet suburban sanctuary. The houses had large yards with polished gardens and white picket fences. I loved the region where I grew up. I would ride to school every day and had plenty of friends close by to spend time with on weekends.

Dad was a lawyer for a top firm in the city. He had hoped I would follow in his footsteps and go to law school but he had supported me with whatever I chose to do.

I had become interested in acting at a young age, when I would make up stories and act them out in front of family and friends. I took drama at school and had starred in nearly every production we did. It hadn’t taken long for the acting bug to bite. A talent scout just happened to attend the end of year play in senior year and had seen something in me he thought he could develop. Ever since then, I had been getting parts in all sorts of movies, not always playing the lead, but getting steady work. I couldn’t complain.

Pulling up to the family home, it stood as it always had, with the large oak tree out the front dwarfing the house and creating welcome shade over the perfectly manicured lawn. The old, weathered car tire still dangled from the highest branch. Swinging on it for hours on end had whiled away the hours on boring, uneventful holidays when all the neighborhood kids had been away on vacation. The low set, Cape Cod-style house looked as pretty as a picture as we drove up the driveway. Dad had given it a fresh coat of paint a few weeks ago, renewing it to its former glory. It looked like Mom had been busy out in the garden, planting fresh colorful pansies and daisies along the driveway leading up to the garage.

Nearing the front door, I wondered if anything had changed on the inside. I didn’t get to visit my family as often as I liked, my career took up way too much time. Flying off to exotic locations year round made it hard on everyone. Whenever I got the chance though, I’d leave my apartment in the city and come home for a few days, just to bring me back to earth and keep my feet on the ground. I was just a regular guy at home and wasn’t treated any differently because I was a film star. I liked that and knew that’s why I loved Dakota. I’d been able to be myself around her. She hadn’t treated me any differently. The media portrayed a very different image than the person I really was. Not many people got to know or see the real me. I was quite private that way.

Feet barely inside, Mom came into sight with an oversized grin almost as wide as her outstretched arms. I dropped my bags and ran to her. This was home and it felt great. For the first time since news of the accident, my spirits lifted, slightly.

“Welcome home, darling! It’s so good to see you! I’m so glad you agreed to come and stay with us for a while. You need to be around people who love you and can look after you. The city is no place for somebody who’s hurting.”

She was right. She was always right. Even though at times we didn’t see eye to eye, she always turned out to be right. I didn’t question such an intelligent, independent woman. We’d always shared a special bond and I loved her more than words could say.

“I’ve left your room just the same. I don’t like to move anything. That way I still feel like you’re home, even when you’re so far away. The dust was starting to collect on a few things though, so I popped in yesterday and had a spring clean, being careful to put everything back the way you like it.”

“Thanks, Mom. You really didn’t need to worry, though. I’m sure even your idea of dusty is everyone else’s idea of clean.”

Mom kind of bordered on obsessive. She kept herself immaculate and everything around her just as ship-shape. The house was always as neat as a pin, with nothing ever out of place. I had overdone it the first few months of bachelor life in the city, leaving dirty laundry on the floor and my bed unmade. It had felt good to rebel for a while and do the opposite of what I was used to. Mom would have had a meltdown if she’d known her son had been living like a slob.

Wafting in from the kitchen trickled a memorable smell. It was my favorite dish that she always used to cook me when I was young. A fresh, fish chowder with everything thrown in and crusty, just baked bread rolls on a side plate. It smelled heavenly and for the first time in two weeks I felt like I may be able to eat something and enjoy it.

“Why don’t you go and unpack, then we’ll catch up on everything until dinner is ready,” soothed Mom as she gave me another welcome home hug.

In the privacy of my room, I threw myself down on my childhood bed, enjoying the softness of the mattress under my weary body. I drank in the room, hugging my old wizened rabbit, feeling like a young boy again. I let the tears slowly drip down my cheeks.