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stefanie_beanChapter 4: Welcome to Tarawa
Pairings: Hurley/Claire, Kate/Sawyer
Characters: Hugo "Hurley" Reyes, Benjamin Linus, Desmond Hume, Claire Littleton, Kate Austen, James "Sawyer" Ford, Rose Nadler, Bernard Nadler, Carole Littleton, Aaron Littleton, Background & Cameo Characters, Original Non-Human Characters
Rating: M
Length: 3216 words
Status: Complete
Notes: Fantasy and supernatural elements. Think American Gods on the Island.
Summary: Hurley begins to heal and rebuild the Island, while Claire, Kate, and Sawyer head back to our world. But when it comes to love, the Island gets you where you need to be.
Chapter 4: Welcome to Tarawa
Sometimes Lady Luck was like a one-hour stand you picked up at a truck stop; other times she stayed the whole night and even made you breakfast the next morning. Problem is, Frank thought, it was hard to tell ahead of time which one it was going to be.
As Ajira 316 circled above the Tarawa Atoll, Miles pointed to at Bonriki Airport's single runway. “How the hell are we going to land on that?”
“Piece of cake,” Frank muttered. Inside he told himself that the numbers were on his side, that Bonriki was rated for his ship and that here on Tarawa Atoll, physics still worked. Or so he hoped.
As a Combi van rolled down the airstrip, a few people sauntered across on foot. Frank cursed under his breath, stomach twisting with anxiety. Three small planes were parked at odd angles on the edge of the runway, which did nothing for his nerves, either.
Time to see if Lady Luck was going to come through with breakfast after all. Frank lowered the flaps and aimed the 737's nose right where it needed to be, and the plane touched down neatly on the pothole-laden runway with only a tiny skid. A few people watching from the sidelines cheered when Frank stopped the plane right where the asphalt ended. Beyond that there was only a thin strip of sand, and then the blue ocean.
A battered police cruiser with flashing lights and a couple of pickup trucks barreled towards the plane. Men with flashlights jumped out, signaling for the 737 to stop.
“How sweet,” said Miles. “They sent the welcome wagon.”
Frank cut the engines, leaving only the low hum of the air conditioning. “Here goes nothing.” He opened the front fuselage door and stuck his head out, hands raised high above his head. “Ajira 316, destination GUM. Emergency, emergency, May Day.”
One of the men yelled something back at Frank. Frank shouted, “No slides. No slides. Slides don't work.”
Over his shoulder, he called out to Miles and the rest, “They want us to stay here and wait. I'll keep the AC on as long as I can. We can't use the slide, so they'll probably tow in some stairs.”
* * * * * * * *
The Ajira survivors were crowded like sardines into the back of an old pickup truck, guarded by an old man with a pistol. It was the only gun in sight. At the Bonriki terminal, they were escorted past a hand-lettered sign which read, “Customs and Immigration,” to a fenced-off area, where they were told to sit and wait. It was hot and very humid.
To Claire, he outdoor terminal looked like a huge picnic shelter. Little cheeping birds flew to and fro between the rafters of the steep thatched roof. The picnic tables were decorated with spatters of bird droppings.
Kate said to Frank, “That was great. You got us down safe.”
In an aw-shucks voice Frank answered, “That was nothing. 'Bout five years ago, a buddy of mine lost an engine, had to bring a 747 down here. He misjudged how wet the runway was and wound up half in the ocean. Had about fifty passengers on board but everybody made it to shore. Didn't want to mention it while we were getting ready to land.”
Sawyer perched on the corner of a picnic table, stretching his legs. “We mightily appreciate that, Cap'n.”
“My buddy said they were good people here.”
Miles paced around the fenced enclosure, then sidled up to Frank and Sawyer. “Nobody's guarding us. And that old jabronie on the truck, his gun was from like World War II or something. I bet there weren't even any bullets in it. What do you say, we grab one of those puddle jumpers over there and fly right out of here?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Frank said.
Before Miles got a chance to answer, two large men in khaki uniforms ambled up. The older one, Chief Biribo, introduced himself before writing down their names and countries of origin in a spiral note-pad. The younger one's crinkled black hair and plump genial expression reminded Claire of Hurley. He was Officer Nariki, he said. He politely took Kate's suitcase and set it aside.
The heart-stopping moment came when Chief Biribo asked for their passports.
Frank handed his over. It was stuck together from weeks of Island sand and damp, but Chief Biribo carefully pulled it apart. He frowned when neither Sawyer, Miles, nor Richard had one.
“We're Americans,” Sawyer said. “You speaka the English? I want the American embassy, you know, the US ambassador.”
Officer Nariki rolled his eyes at Chief Biribo. “Americans.”
Biribo said, “All of you lost your passports? What, you get mugged in a bar in Agana or something?”
“We were headed for Guam,” Frank put in. “We never made it to Agana to get mugged.”
Biribo nodded, then said to Nariki, “We're gonna have to call Suva.” He made it sound as much fun as cleaning out a septic tank.
Under his breath, Sawyer said to Frank, “Who's Suva?”
“Not who. It's where the US embassy is. In Fiji.”
Then it was Claire's turn. “I'm Australian.”
At that, Nariki gave her a warm, wide smile. She beamed back, and suddenly everyone in the area relaxed a bit.
The grin on Nariki's face was beginning to look silly. “You a tourist? We get lots of Aussies here.”
“Sort of. Look, I'm going to get my passport out now. It's okay.” Claire unbuttoned her ratty top shirt, and Nariki sidled in for a better look. Biribo tensed up, though, as if she was trying to pull something.
From an inside pocket Claire took out a plastic baggie. As Nariki drank in the sight of Claire in her tank top, she handed him her most prized possession: an M-series holographic Australian passport, not that much the worse for wear.
“Son of a bitch,” Sawyer said under his breath to Kate.
“Well, I'll be. It's why she didn't want to change her shirt.”
The two policemen examined Frank's and Claire's documents, then spoke to one another in their own language. Not completely, though, because more than once Claire heard the chilling phrase, “Homeland Security.”
“Smells like trouble,” Miles said to Richard.
“Miles, the only trouble here so far has been you.”
“Hey, that's not fair,” Miles protested.
“Yeah, Ricky Ricardo, give the man a break,” Sawyer said.
“We got to search you now.” Biribo sounded genuinely sorry about it.
“We'll look over the plane later,” Nariki added helpfully. “Maybe tomorrow.”
Claire's stomach clenched. She had watched people get pulled out of lines at the Sydney airport, and those selected for special treatment generally didn't have a good time of it. She was especially sorry she'd smiled in such a friendly way at Officer Nariki. But his round face showed nothing but sympathy.
“Take the ladies to the VIP lounge,” Biribo said to Nariki. He handed Claire's passport back to her, and she slid it into her trouser pocket.
As Biribo led the men away, panic crossed Kate's face. “Do we have to split up?”
Claire gave Kate's hand a little squeeze of reassurance. Sawyer was protesting their separation too, while Richard tried to calm him down.
Nariki guided them to a large room around the back of the terminal building. It held a couple of chairs which had seen better days, and an old couch whose cracked upholstery was mended with duct tape. “You wait here.” The door slid shut behind him, unlocked.
Claire curled up on one end of the couch, while Kate settled herself in a wing-back chair and crinkled her nose at the shabby room. “This is the VIP lounge?”
Above them, a rusted fan beat out the minutes with an irregular whump-whump.
Finally Kate said, “Didn't see that one coming, with your passport.”
“I've always had it, ever since the crash. I found my purse that first day, remember? No hairbrush, but I had all my papers. I never let go of it, not even when I went to live with my friend. Eventually I sewed it into my shirt.”
“Why?”
“Aaron was gone. All of you were gone. It let me remember who I was, that I hadn't always been… like this. Crazy.”
“I don't think you're crazy. I've been to places where— Let's just say that I've seen some really crazy people, and you're not it.”
“Look, I jumped you, didn't I?” There, she'd said it, and it was out in the open. “Put a knife to your throat.”
“You thought I had Aaron.”
“That was stupid, right? I mean, somebody had to take him. He'd have died out there, wouldn't he?”
Kate nodded, then walked over to the big open window with its torn, dirty screen. “Look at this place. We could be out of here and gone in five seconds.”
“Gone to where? Kate, we're on an island.”
Kate sighed. They both gazed out the window at the friendly, chatting people gathered outside. A few women took food out of shopping bags and passed it around, while their young children jumped about on the shaggy grass. Officer Nariki accepted a bottle of beer from one of the women, and finished it off in a few gulps.
Kate rested her head against the screen. “Yeah, good point.”
The palm trees here weren't like those on the Island, Claire noticed. These looked more like upright feather dusters that hadn't been beaten clean in a long while. Out past the runway, the land was flat as a dinner plate and directly level with the calm blue ocean. A two-lane road ran smack-dab up alongside it.
“You want to talk about crazy,” Claire said. “That would be Miles, thinking that he could nick one of those little planes.”
“God, I just hope he doesn't do something stupid. What do you think they're—”
Someone knocked softly on the door, as if Kate and Claire were guests in a hotel, and one of the staff wanted to get their attention.
Kate and Claire stood frozen.
The door opened slowly, and a tall, fat Kiribati woman entered. She carried a beaten-up duffel bag, and her curly grey hair was pulled into a tight bun. “I'm Auntie Merey,” she said with a friendly smile.
Claire said hesitantly, “Are you a police-woman?”
“Hoo, no, I'm the midwife round here. The police, they call me if there's ladies to search. Chief Biribo and Officer Nariki, they're taking care of your men.” From her bag she pulled out two bottles of fizzy drinks and a large package of Scotch fingers. “You two look hungry.”
The lemon soda was almost as warm as the room, but the sugar rushed straight to Claire's head. She hadn't had anything as sweet in three years. Suddenly light-headed, she plopped onto a chair, knees buckling. She'd had her last meal three days before, when she and Hurley had wolfed down stale crackers and tins of cold soup in the Elizabeth's galley.
“Have some biscuits,” Auntie Merey said. Claire gobbled down a handful, unable to resist. When she licked the crumbs from her fingers, Auntie Merey handed her a few more. Even stale and damp, they were delicious. Soon Claire felt alert, better than she had in days, and best of all, calm.
Auntie Merey said in a conversational tone, “Okay, who wants to go first?”
Kate stepped forward. “I will, Claire. I know the drill.”
Claire nodded. Kate had been in prison before.
“You both look like nice girls,” Auntie Merey said. “How about you just go down to your knickers and we'll call it done? The men don't need to know.”
Relieved, Kate quickly stripped to her underthings. Auntie Merey looked with interest at Kate's scar. “That healed up good.”
Kate just nodded, noncommittal. As she dressed, Auntie Merey said, “So, I hear you're engaged. When's the wedding?”
Kate looked up from zipping her jeans, shocked. “Engaged? What?”
“That's what the little fellow told us, the one who gave the officers some sass about being searched. Like we were going to steal his family jewels or something. And the tall bloke who sounds like a cowboy, he said she was his.” Auntie Merey gave a nod to Claire.
“Miles said that? Really?” Kate sounded totally indignant now.
“It's a secret, then? Hey, I get that. Some of the girls 'round here, they don't want their parents to know right away, either. Don't worry, I got more secrets in me than the ocean has fish. Yours is safe with me.”
As peeved as Kate was, Claire figured that if Miles and Sawyer had said they were engaged, there had to be a reason. When her turn came, she told Auntie Merey, “I've, um, kind of been going commando.”
Auntie Merey just nodded as if this was the most normal thing in the world. From her bag she took a large blue sheet and draped it over Claire's shoulders like a mantle. If she noticed the dirt or the smell, she didn't react. Claire stood there bare and mud-streaked as Auntie Merey went straight to the large scar on Claire's upper left arm.
“Nasty burn.” Then her attention shifted down to Claire's thigh. “Oh, honey, what happened there? That looks like it hurt.” The gunshot wound had long since healed, but big stitch-marks still remained. When Claire had tried to sew it shut, she had pulled too tight on one side and too loose on the other, leaving a deep, lopsided hole.
Claire's heart started to race. That particular wound had almost killed her with fever. One morning, though, she had sat right up, still soaked with sweat but suddenly better, the hole in her thigh no longer red or even open. All her friend had said was that she was a nuisance for getting herself shot. Worse, fixing her up meant that he now owed someone a favor.
Finally, Auntie Merey gently ran her fingers along Claire's silvery stretch-marks. “So, you had a baby. What, three, four years ago?”
For an instant, Claire thought about lying. But Auntie Merey was a midwife, and she'd be able to tell, so Claire took the plunge. “Yeah, that's right. He's three and a half.”
Behind her, Kate gasped.
“Your mama and papa, I guess they were pretty mad, huh? You not being married and all.”
Tears collected in Claire's eyes. She didn't trust herself to speak.
“So where's your little one now? 'Cause if you don't mind me saying, honey, you look like you been out in the bush for awhile.”
Claire hadn't the faintest idea where Aaron was. And there had been no time to ask.
As Claire quickly dressed, Kate filled in the awkward silence. “He's with her mom.”
“Guess Mama wasn't so mad after all. Bet you can't wait to get back to him.” From the sideways glance Auntie Merey gave Claire, she knew something was off.
When Claire didn't answer, Auntie Merey's smile grew cold, and she fixed Kate with a hard stare. “Me and Nei Claire here are gonna have a little chat. I trust you'll stay put and not give me any trouble.”
Oh, crap, what now? Claire thought.
Auntie Merey led her outside into the breezeway, then placed her big body square in front of the closed door, but her face shone soft with compassion. “I want you to tell me what's going on, honey. And if you lie, I'll know. Mother Mary gives each one of us gifts, and mine's catching the truth along with the babies.
“You got some hard miles on you for a girl your age, and I'm gonna ask you this right out. Did somebody make you come here, like Nei Kate maybe, or one of those men you came in with? 'Cause if they did, you just say the word and I'll find a safe place for you. And then some heads are gonna roll, 'cause unlike some around here, I don't look the other way with that stuff.”
A tide of relief swept over Claire. “Oh, no. No way. Kate's my friend, she helped me.”
“Helped you with what, honey?”
The simplest explanation was the best. “There was this guy I was living with in the bush. He was a jerk. Kate helped me get away from him.”
“And your child?”
“His dad left me flat a long time ago, wouldn't marry me.” She had just blurted out the two biggest secrets of her adult life, and there was no calling them back.
“Okay, honey. I just had to ask.”
Back in the room, Kate hadn't climbed out the window or anything. Instead she sat on the couch under the thumping fan, munching a biscuit and looking cool as you please. “Everything all right?”
“She wanted to know if you were holding me for sex trafficking.”
“Oh my God, she said that?”
“Not in so many words. But Kate, you've got to tell me, and I promise I won't get mad. That bit about my mum, that can't be true. Who's Aaron really with now?”
“I told you, your mom.”
Claire choked back her anger. She'd already accused Kate of lying once, and look how that had turned out. Through gritted teeth she said, “Mum's been in a nursing home in Sydney for years.”
“I saw her in LA a couple of years ago, and then again last month. I left Aaron with her.”
Reeling, Claire flopped down on the couch. It was like a dream: Mum not only awake, but well enough to travel, to take care of Aaron. “How can that be? She was in a coma from a traffic accident. I should know, I drove right into the truck that put her there.”
“You never told me that.”
“There was a lot you didn't tell me about yourself, either.”
“Yeah, well— Look, Claire, she seemed fine. Great, in fact. She even yelled at Jack.”
“That sounds like Mum.” An overwhelming feeling as big as that truck hit Claire, and she began to cry. It was too much, too soon. “She never even knew I had the baby.”
“Well, she sure found that out.” Kate's eyes were wet, too, and soon they were crying together.
They didn't even hear Auntie Merey come back into the room. It wasn't until she stood right in front of them that they even noticed she was there.
“You two were making such a racket, I could hear it outside.” Her tone implied that they were attracting attention, and they didn't want to do that.
“Sorry,” Claire said through sniffles. “My friend here just gave me some family news.”
“These are happy tears, really,” Kate added.
“Listen up, you two. I told Chief Biribo that you checked out just fine, that you were good girls and weren't gonna cause any trouble, so don't make me a liar. You got to wipe your faces and pull yourselves together, 'cause they're gonna take you someplace to stay. Till someone comes to get you.”
After the door swung shut again, Claire said, “I'm glad we talked to her. But Richard's going to kill us.”
“Don't worry,” Kate said. “I can handle Richard.”
(continued)
Pairings: Hurley/Claire, Kate/Sawyer
Characters: Hugo "Hurley" Reyes, Benjamin Linus, Desmond Hume, Claire Littleton, Kate Austen, James "Sawyer" Ford, Rose Nadler, Bernard Nadler, Carole Littleton, Aaron Littleton, Background & Cameo Characters, Original Non-Human Characters
Rating: M
Length: 3216 words
Status: Complete
Notes: Fantasy and supernatural elements. Think American Gods on the Island.
Summary: Hurley begins to heal and rebuild the Island, while Claire, Kate, and Sawyer head back to our world. But when it comes to love, the Island gets you where you need to be.
Chapter 4: Welcome to Tarawa
Sometimes Lady Luck was like a one-hour stand you picked up at a truck stop; other times she stayed the whole night and even made you breakfast the next morning. Problem is, Frank thought, it was hard to tell ahead of time which one it was going to be.
As Ajira 316 circled above the Tarawa Atoll, Miles pointed to at Bonriki Airport's single runway. “How the hell are we going to land on that?”
“Piece of cake,” Frank muttered. Inside he told himself that the numbers were on his side, that Bonriki was rated for his ship and that here on Tarawa Atoll, physics still worked. Or so he hoped.
As a Combi van rolled down the airstrip, a few people sauntered across on foot. Frank cursed under his breath, stomach twisting with anxiety. Three small planes were parked at odd angles on the edge of the runway, which did nothing for his nerves, either.
Time to see if Lady Luck was going to come through with breakfast after all. Frank lowered the flaps and aimed the 737's nose right where it needed to be, and the plane touched down neatly on the pothole-laden runway with only a tiny skid. A few people watching from the sidelines cheered when Frank stopped the plane right where the asphalt ended. Beyond that there was only a thin strip of sand, and then the blue ocean.
A battered police cruiser with flashing lights and a couple of pickup trucks barreled towards the plane. Men with flashlights jumped out, signaling for the 737 to stop.
“How sweet,” said Miles. “They sent the welcome wagon.”
Frank cut the engines, leaving only the low hum of the air conditioning. “Here goes nothing.” He opened the front fuselage door and stuck his head out, hands raised high above his head. “Ajira 316, destination GUM. Emergency, emergency, May Day.”
One of the men yelled something back at Frank. Frank shouted, “No slides. No slides. Slides don't work.”
Over his shoulder, he called out to Miles and the rest, “They want us to stay here and wait. I'll keep the AC on as long as I can. We can't use the slide, so they'll probably tow in some stairs.”
The Ajira survivors were crowded like sardines into the back of an old pickup truck, guarded by an old man with a pistol. It was the only gun in sight. At the Bonriki terminal, they were escorted past a hand-lettered sign which read, “Customs and Immigration,” to a fenced-off area, where they were told to sit and wait. It was hot and very humid.
To Claire, he outdoor terminal looked like a huge picnic shelter. Little cheeping birds flew to and fro between the rafters of the steep thatched roof. The picnic tables were decorated with spatters of bird droppings.
Kate said to Frank, “That was great. You got us down safe.”
In an aw-shucks voice Frank answered, “That was nothing. 'Bout five years ago, a buddy of mine lost an engine, had to bring a 747 down here. He misjudged how wet the runway was and wound up half in the ocean. Had about fifty passengers on board but everybody made it to shore. Didn't want to mention it while we were getting ready to land.”
Sawyer perched on the corner of a picnic table, stretching his legs. “We mightily appreciate that, Cap'n.”
“My buddy said they were good people here.”
Miles paced around the fenced enclosure, then sidled up to Frank and Sawyer. “Nobody's guarding us. And that old jabronie on the truck, his gun was from like World War II or something. I bet there weren't even any bullets in it. What do you say, we grab one of those puddle jumpers over there and fly right out of here?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Frank said.
Before Miles got a chance to answer, two large men in khaki uniforms ambled up. The older one, Chief Biribo, introduced himself before writing down their names and countries of origin in a spiral note-pad. The younger one's crinkled black hair and plump genial expression reminded Claire of Hurley. He was Officer Nariki, he said. He politely took Kate's suitcase and set it aside.
The heart-stopping moment came when Chief Biribo asked for their passports.
Frank handed his over. It was stuck together from weeks of Island sand and damp, but Chief Biribo carefully pulled it apart. He frowned when neither Sawyer, Miles, nor Richard had one.
“We're Americans,” Sawyer said. “You speaka the English? I want the American embassy, you know, the US ambassador.”
Officer Nariki rolled his eyes at Chief Biribo. “Americans.”
Biribo said, “All of you lost your passports? What, you get mugged in a bar in Agana or something?”
“We were headed for Guam,” Frank put in. “We never made it to Agana to get mugged.”
Biribo nodded, then said to Nariki, “We're gonna have to call Suva.” He made it sound as much fun as cleaning out a septic tank.
Under his breath, Sawyer said to Frank, “Who's Suva?”
“Not who. It's where the US embassy is. In Fiji.”
Then it was Claire's turn. “I'm Australian.”
At that, Nariki gave her a warm, wide smile. She beamed back, and suddenly everyone in the area relaxed a bit.
The grin on Nariki's face was beginning to look silly. “You a tourist? We get lots of Aussies here.”
“Sort of. Look, I'm going to get my passport out now. It's okay.” Claire unbuttoned her ratty top shirt, and Nariki sidled in for a better look. Biribo tensed up, though, as if she was trying to pull something.
From an inside pocket Claire took out a plastic baggie. As Nariki drank in the sight of Claire in her tank top, she handed him her most prized possession: an M-series holographic Australian passport, not that much the worse for wear.
“Son of a bitch,” Sawyer said under his breath to Kate.
“Well, I'll be. It's why she didn't want to change her shirt.”
The two policemen examined Frank's and Claire's documents, then spoke to one another in their own language. Not completely, though, because more than once Claire heard the chilling phrase, “Homeland Security.”
“Smells like trouble,” Miles said to Richard.
“Miles, the only trouble here so far has been you.”
“Hey, that's not fair,” Miles protested.
“Yeah, Ricky Ricardo, give the man a break,” Sawyer said.
“We got to search you now.” Biribo sounded genuinely sorry about it.
“We'll look over the plane later,” Nariki added helpfully. “Maybe tomorrow.”
Claire's stomach clenched. She had watched people get pulled out of lines at the Sydney airport, and those selected for special treatment generally didn't have a good time of it. She was especially sorry she'd smiled in such a friendly way at Officer Nariki. But his round face showed nothing but sympathy.
“Take the ladies to the VIP lounge,” Biribo said to Nariki. He handed Claire's passport back to her, and she slid it into her trouser pocket.
As Biribo led the men away, panic crossed Kate's face. “Do we have to split up?”
Claire gave Kate's hand a little squeeze of reassurance. Sawyer was protesting their separation too, while Richard tried to calm him down.
Nariki guided them to a large room around the back of the terminal building. It held a couple of chairs which had seen better days, and an old couch whose cracked upholstery was mended with duct tape. “You wait here.” The door slid shut behind him, unlocked.
Claire curled up on one end of the couch, while Kate settled herself in a wing-back chair and crinkled her nose at the shabby room. “This is the VIP lounge?”
Above them, a rusted fan beat out the minutes with an irregular whump-whump.
Finally Kate said, “Didn't see that one coming, with your passport.”
“I've always had it, ever since the crash. I found my purse that first day, remember? No hairbrush, but I had all my papers. I never let go of it, not even when I went to live with my friend. Eventually I sewed it into my shirt.”
“Why?”
“Aaron was gone. All of you were gone. It let me remember who I was, that I hadn't always been… like this. Crazy.”
“I don't think you're crazy. I've been to places where— Let's just say that I've seen some really crazy people, and you're not it.”
“Look, I jumped you, didn't I?” There, she'd said it, and it was out in the open. “Put a knife to your throat.”
“You thought I had Aaron.”
“That was stupid, right? I mean, somebody had to take him. He'd have died out there, wouldn't he?”
Kate nodded, then walked over to the big open window with its torn, dirty screen. “Look at this place. We could be out of here and gone in five seconds.”
“Gone to where? Kate, we're on an island.”
Kate sighed. They both gazed out the window at the friendly, chatting people gathered outside. A few women took food out of shopping bags and passed it around, while their young children jumped about on the shaggy grass. Officer Nariki accepted a bottle of beer from one of the women, and finished it off in a few gulps.
Kate rested her head against the screen. “Yeah, good point.”
The palm trees here weren't like those on the Island, Claire noticed. These looked more like upright feather dusters that hadn't been beaten clean in a long while. Out past the runway, the land was flat as a dinner plate and directly level with the calm blue ocean. A two-lane road ran smack-dab up alongside it.
“You want to talk about crazy,” Claire said. “That would be Miles, thinking that he could nick one of those little planes.”
“God, I just hope he doesn't do something stupid. What do you think they're—”
Someone knocked softly on the door, as if Kate and Claire were guests in a hotel, and one of the staff wanted to get their attention.
Kate and Claire stood frozen.
The door opened slowly, and a tall, fat Kiribati woman entered. She carried a beaten-up duffel bag, and her curly grey hair was pulled into a tight bun. “I'm Auntie Merey,” she said with a friendly smile.
Claire said hesitantly, “Are you a police-woman?”
“Hoo, no, I'm the midwife round here. The police, they call me if there's ladies to search. Chief Biribo and Officer Nariki, they're taking care of your men.” From her bag she pulled out two bottles of fizzy drinks and a large package of Scotch fingers. “You two look hungry.”
The lemon soda was almost as warm as the room, but the sugar rushed straight to Claire's head. She hadn't had anything as sweet in three years. Suddenly light-headed, she plopped onto a chair, knees buckling. She'd had her last meal three days before, when she and Hurley had wolfed down stale crackers and tins of cold soup in the Elizabeth's galley.
“Have some biscuits,” Auntie Merey said. Claire gobbled down a handful, unable to resist. When she licked the crumbs from her fingers, Auntie Merey handed her a few more. Even stale and damp, they were delicious. Soon Claire felt alert, better than she had in days, and best of all, calm.
Auntie Merey said in a conversational tone, “Okay, who wants to go first?”
Kate stepped forward. “I will, Claire. I know the drill.”
Claire nodded. Kate had been in prison before.
“You both look like nice girls,” Auntie Merey said. “How about you just go down to your knickers and we'll call it done? The men don't need to know.”
Relieved, Kate quickly stripped to her underthings. Auntie Merey looked with interest at Kate's scar. “That healed up good.”
Kate just nodded, noncommittal. As she dressed, Auntie Merey said, “So, I hear you're engaged. When's the wedding?”
Kate looked up from zipping her jeans, shocked. “Engaged? What?”
“That's what the little fellow told us, the one who gave the officers some sass about being searched. Like we were going to steal his family jewels or something. And the tall bloke who sounds like a cowboy, he said she was his.” Auntie Merey gave a nod to Claire.
“Miles said that? Really?” Kate sounded totally indignant now.
“It's a secret, then? Hey, I get that. Some of the girls 'round here, they don't want their parents to know right away, either. Don't worry, I got more secrets in me than the ocean has fish. Yours is safe with me.”
As peeved as Kate was, Claire figured that if Miles and Sawyer had said they were engaged, there had to be a reason. When her turn came, she told Auntie Merey, “I've, um, kind of been going commando.”
Auntie Merey just nodded as if this was the most normal thing in the world. From her bag she took a large blue sheet and draped it over Claire's shoulders like a mantle. If she noticed the dirt or the smell, she didn't react. Claire stood there bare and mud-streaked as Auntie Merey went straight to the large scar on Claire's upper left arm.
“Nasty burn.” Then her attention shifted down to Claire's thigh. “Oh, honey, what happened there? That looks like it hurt.” The gunshot wound had long since healed, but big stitch-marks still remained. When Claire had tried to sew it shut, she had pulled too tight on one side and too loose on the other, leaving a deep, lopsided hole.
Claire's heart started to race. That particular wound had almost killed her with fever. One morning, though, she had sat right up, still soaked with sweat but suddenly better, the hole in her thigh no longer red or even open. All her friend had said was that she was a nuisance for getting herself shot. Worse, fixing her up meant that he now owed someone a favor.
Finally, Auntie Merey gently ran her fingers along Claire's silvery stretch-marks. “So, you had a baby. What, three, four years ago?”
For an instant, Claire thought about lying. But Auntie Merey was a midwife, and she'd be able to tell, so Claire took the plunge. “Yeah, that's right. He's three and a half.”
Behind her, Kate gasped.
“Your mama and papa, I guess they were pretty mad, huh? You not being married and all.”
Tears collected in Claire's eyes. She didn't trust herself to speak.
“So where's your little one now? 'Cause if you don't mind me saying, honey, you look like you been out in the bush for awhile.”
Claire hadn't the faintest idea where Aaron was. And there had been no time to ask.
As Claire quickly dressed, Kate filled in the awkward silence. “He's with her mom.”
“Guess Mama wasn't so mad after all. Bet you can't wait to get back to him.” From the sideways glance Auntie Merey gave Claire, she knew something was off.
When Claire didn't answer, Auntie Merey's smile grew cold, and she fixed Kate with a hard stare. “Me and Nei Claire here are gonna have a little chat. I trust you'll stay put and not give me any trouble.”
Oh, crap, what now? Claire thought.
Auntie Merey led her outside into the breezeway, then placed her big body square in front of the closed door, but her face shone soft with compassion. “I want you to tell me what's going on, honey. And if you lie, I'll know. Mother Mary gives each one of us gifts, and mine's catching the truth along with the babies.
“You got some hard miles on you for a girl your age, and I'm gonna ask you this right out. Did somebody make you come here, like Nei Kate maybe, or one of those men you came in with? 'Cause if they did, you just say the word and I'll find a safe place for you. And then some heads are gonna roll, 'cause unlike some around here, I don't look the other way with that stuff.”
A tide of relief swept over Claire. “Oh, no. No way. Kate's my friend, she helped me.”
“Helped you with what, honey?”
The simplest explanation was the best. “There was this guy I was living with in the bush. He was a jerk. Kate helped me get away from him.”
“And your child?”
“His dad left me flat a long time ago, wouldn't marry me.” She had just blurted out the two biggest secrets of her adult life, and there was no calling them back.
“Okay, honey. I just had to ask.”
Back in the room, Kate hadn't climbed out the window or anything. Instead she sat on the couch under the thumping fan, munching a biscuit and looking cool as you please. “Everything all right?”
“She wanted to know if you were holding me for sex trafficking.”
“Oh my God, she said that?”
“Not in so many words. But Kate, you've got to tell me, and I promise I won't get mad. That bit about my mum, that can't be true. Who's Aaron really with now?”
“I told you, your mom.”
Claire choked back her anger. She'd already accused Kate of lying once, and look how that had turned out. Through gritted teeth she said, “Mum's been in a nursing home in Sydney for years.”
“I saw her in LA a couple of years ago, and then again last month. I left Aaron with her.”
Reeling, Claire flopped down on the couch. It was like a dream: Mum not only awake, but well enough to travel, to take care of Aaron. “How can that be? She was in a coma from a traffic accident. I should know, I drove right into the truck that put her there.”
“You never told me that.”
“There was a lot you didn't tell me about yourself, either.”
“Yeah, well— Look, Claire, she seemed fine. Great, in fact. She even yelled at Jack.”
“That sounds like Mum.” An overwhelming feeling as big as that truck hit Claire, and she began to cry. It was too much, too soon. “She never even knew I had the baby.”
“Well, she sure found that out.” Kate's eyes were wet, too, and soon they were crying together.
They didn't even hear Auntie Merey come back into the room. It wasn't until she stood right in front of them that they even noticed she was there.
“You two were making such a racket, I could hear it outside.” Her tone implied that they were attracting attention, and they didn't want to do that.
“Sorry,” Claire said through sniffles. “My friend here just gave me some family news.”
“These are happy tears, really,” Kate added.
“Listen up, you two. I told Chief Biribo that you checked out just fine, that you were good girls and weren't gonna cause any trouble, so don't make me a liar. You got to wipe your faces and pull yourselves together, 'cause they're gonna take you someplace to stay. Till someone comes to get you.”
After the door swung shut again, Claire said, “I'm glad we talked to her. But Richard's going to kill us.”
“Don't worry,” Kate said. “I can handle Richard.”
(continued)