Ghosts of the Pacific (16 page)

I WANDERED AWAY
from the library very slowly with Hollie
on my back. There was a Japanese garden nearby and we
went in there. It was full of butterflies too. What I couldn't
understand, and couldn't believe, was that these were human beings, both the ones coming out of the caves on fire
and the ones throwing flames at them. They were humans.
I was human. We were the same. Why was it happening?
How could things go so terribly wrong?

I knew it was war. I understood that. Japan had attacked
America. America fought back. But those were just countries, just names. I could understand when I thought of
countries fighting countries the way I read in books. I could
not understand when it was people, like the man on the cliff
who had shaken my hand. Like Paul. These were real people
I had met. They had been enemies. Both sides fought and
killed each other here, in this place that was now so beautiful and peaceful. It was insane.

I understood Paul's imprisonment better now, even though
it still didn't feel right. He didn't start the war. He didn't
invent flame-throwers. If I had stood in his place back then
with a flame-thrower on my back, would I have turned it on
women and children? No. I knew that I wouldn't have. I was
certain of that. I would have jumped from the cliffs before I
would have burned people alive. But, I hadn't been here
then. Paul had. And he had done it. Was I so different from
him? I didn't think so. I just knew I couldn't do what he had
done. And I didn't want to think about it anymore. But I
couldn't stop. Sheba was right. Well, she was right and she
wasn't. I wanted to know and I didn't.

I let Hollie out and we wandered until we found ourselves
back at the circus ship. The park was filled with people now.
The circus was opening soon. There were so many people—
I was amazed. According to my guidebook, about ninety
thousand people lived on Saipan, sixty thousand of them
coming from other countries. But they were spread out
across the island so there didn't seem to be so many. This
was the most people I had seen gathered in one place in a
long time.

The crowd was excited. There were smells of barbecues
and popcorn and cotton candy in the air. The smells tugged
at me. I wanted to enjoy them but I felt torn inside. Part of
me didn't want to let go of the heavy thoughts. Part of me
wanted to forget them altogether.

And I had always wanted to see a circus.

The old grey tents were covered with colourful ribbons.
Ticket booths were set up and people were lined up at them.
I saw signs advertising various acts: a wild elephant and two
ferocious lions; Medusa, the snake lady who would turn you
to stone if you stared into her eyes; the original wolf man,
who had to be kept in a cage; the incredible family of flying
trapeze artists who defied gravity; and Hugo, the strongest
man in the world. The opening act would feature Dickie, the
funniest clown the world has ever known. I didn't remember Cinnamon telling me about a clown. I wondered who he
was.

As I stood at the edge of the park and watched, still unsure whether or not to go in, I saw something that made me
feel better. Standing in line for tickets were people from different countries: America, Japan, China, the Philippines, as
well as the local people, the Chamorro. They were all talking
and laughing. They were excited. A couple of generations
ago they were killing each other here. Now, they were lining
up to enjoy a circus. Before I could think another thought,
Cinnamon came out of one of the tents, spotted me and
rushed over. “Alfred! Oh! I am so glad you are here. I was
afraid you weren't coming.”

“I promised you I would.”

“I know, but people make promises they don't keep.”

“I keep mine.”

She broke into a smile, leaned over and kissed me on the
cheek. I blushed.

“You can come into the tent and watch the show. You
don't have to pay because you helped set up. I'm not on for
a couple of hours. Dickie is first.”

“Who's Dickie?”

“The clown.”

“I know, but who is he?”

She grinned. “You'll see. I'm so happy you are here.” She
took me to an entrance at the back of the tent and hurried
off. I watched her bounce across the grass like a gazelle.

I went inside and took a seat on the rickety old wooden
grandstand. I had seen them folded up on the ship. I was the
first and only one seated. As I looked around I was amazed
at how big the tent seemed from the inside. It was hard not
to feel excited. What was it about a circus, even a little one
like this, that was so special?

But I was a little nervous for Cinnamon. What if she became distracted and made a mistake and injured herself? I
didn't even really understand why she liked me so much in
the first place, except that, like me, she didn't have any
friends her own age. I supposed that was it. I had Hollie and
Seaweed. She only had snakes.

The main flap opened and people started to pour in. Loud
recorded music started playing at the same time. It was old
fashioned music yet it made me laugh with anticipation. I
couldn't help it. The people coming in were excited too. They
must have seen this circus before, when the ship had visited
in other years, yet they flocked in and crowded together on
the seats as if everything were brand new. I hoped the old
wooden grandstands would hold up. Suddenly there were
people all around me, even pressed up against my shoulders.
I put the tool bag on my lap and Hollie stood up and
watched through the mesh.

When the tent was filled with people, the music didn't
seem so loud anymore. There was a deep hum of people
talking, laughing and whistling so loudly I almost covered
my ears. Suddenly the Master of Ceremonies appeared and
the noise level rose even higher. I looked around me. People
were going crazy and the show hadn't even started yet. The
MC was dressed in a dazzling red, white and blue costume
covered in jewels. When he opened his mouth and started
speaking I couldn't believe this was the same quiet man I
had seen on the ship. His voice boomed across the tent and
everyone shut up and listened. He told us we were in for the
most thrilling circus night imaginable. Something about the
way he said it made me think it was true. He described all
the acts that were coming but said we had to watch the funniest clown in the world first because immediately after his
act he was going to retire. Everyone groaned sadly. The moment he retired, the MC continued, he was going to fly to
the moon. In fact, he was going to fly from this very tent,
tonight! The audience roared again.

“And now!” roared the MC, “a big round of applause for
Dickie! The funniest clown in the worrrrrrrrrrrrrld!”

The people in the audience whistled, cheered and
stomped their feet. It was deafening. A flap opened at one
end of the tent and a small clown wandered in slowly, looking lost and unsure of himself. The music stopped. The
crowd grew silent. The clown shuffled slowly and sadly to
the centre of the ring. He plopped down on the ground and
began crying. I thought that was very strange and wasn't
sure it was an act. I looked around and saw that everyone
was still smiling. The clown kept crying. He was wiping his
eyes with his sleeves and crying harder all the time. I was
trying very hard not to feel sorry for him—he was, after all,
a clown in a circus—but I couldn't help it. Then, as if he
suddenly realized something, he lifted his foot up so that
everyone could see it, and he pointed to it. He raised his
head in a gesture, asking the crowd a question. Everyone in
the tent roared, “Yes!” Then he started to pull a tack from
his foot. But the tack was attached to a coloured scarf and
the scarf kept coming out until it was about twenty feet
long. The audience burst with laughter. The clown sprang
to his feet and started to run around in a circle. He was fast!
Then he stopped, all out of breath. And then, he started to
laugh. He started with a giggle that turned into a chuckle
that turned into a belly laugh. He laughed and laughed with
the funniest laugh I ever heard and he didn't stop. The
audience laughed hysterically with him. And now I knew
who he was, because I recognized his laugh. Dickie the
Clown was Mr. Chee.

After Dickie the Clown, we were treated to the frightening spectacle of three wild beasts rolled into the centre of the
ring inside two cages: two lions in one, and the wolf man in
the other. One of the lions was so dangerous it was not
allowed out, said the MC. Although I remembered something about it being too old, I really wasn't sure—the MC
was so convincing. The really frightening thing was that the
wolf man was chained and locked up, but he escaped! And
he was scary. He went around frightening everyone, and the
lion tamer had to use one of the lions to chase him back into
his cage. It really made me nervous. I was so caught up in
the action I completely forgot I had met these people before.

And then the lights dimmed and Medusa appeared. She
was wearing snakes all over her body. The audience was
warned not to look directly into her eyes or they would be
turned to stone. Around and around the circle Medusa wandered, trying to get the audience to stare at her. People in the
front rows screamed. People in the back laughed hysterically.
I had thought Megara was scary enough with the snakes in
her room. Now she was wearing something that made her
eyes shine like floodlights. It was very frightening.

Next, Dickie the Clown returned riding Mindy, the elephant. He was standing on her back and bouncing up and
down out of rhythm with her stride. He fell off twice and
climbed back up. They went around the circle a few times
and back out. I was laughing so hard my eyes were running
with tears.

We had a brief intermission while a giant net was carried
in and tied to the poles about ten feet off the ground. A large
flap opened up and two giants stepped into the ring. They
were walking on enormously high stilts and wearing giant
papier-mâché heads. They were amazing. The giants played
with yo-yos ten feet long!

Finally, the MC returned and told the audience in a very
serious tone that the acrobats were about to try a new routine that had never been successfully performed before. In
fact, it was so dangerous that an unmentionable number of
people had died trying to do it. Then, he asked the audience
to be as quiet as they possibly could while the artists were in
the air, and to save their applause for when the performers
were back on their perch. I looked around and saw heads
nodding in agreement everywhere. I hoped everyone was
paying attention. A drum roll began. The older couple appeared in their sleek and colourful suits. And then I saw
Cinnamon appear. She looked so wonderful and I realized
that, once again, Sheba had been right—I had met someone
very special.

THE FLYING-TRAPEZE
act was a huge hit. Cinnamon flew
through the air as if she had wings. It was incredible. I
needn't have worried. Nobody missed their connections.
Nobody fell. They spun somersaults through the air and
grabbed each other's hands without even looking. I didn't
know if it was the most difficult act in the world but it sure
was exciting.

There were a few more acts after that. Then Dickie the
Clown returned to say farewell and fly to the moon. He
went around shaking hands with everyone in the front row.
Everyone wanted to touch his hand. He burst out crying
again; he couldn't help it. Everyone felt sad. A cannon was
rolled into the tent. Blowing kisses with both hands, Dickie
climbed into the cannon backwards, waved one last time
and disappeared inside the barrel. There was a long drum
roll. I didn't dare blink. Then there was an explosion and
smoke filled the centre of the tent. It smelled like firecrackers.
When it finally started to clear, the giants were standing in
the centre. They pointed up to a hole in the roof of the tent.
Dickie was gone. The giants waved to the moon. Everyone
waved and cheered. I couldn't stop laughing. I had never
had so much fun.

I met Cinnamon after the show. She had changed and
was ready for a walk.

“Did you like it?”

“I loved it.”

“Really?”

“It was great. I was amazed. You were really good.”

“Did you think so? Thank you, Alfred. I'm so glad you
saw it. And now you know who Dickie the Clown is.”

“He's hilarious! I can't believe it.”

We walked along the beach. Cinnamon took my hand. I
didn't mind. We walked quietly for a while, but I could sense
she wanted to say something.

“Alfred?”

“Yes.”

“You should join our circus.”

“What? Me? Join the circus?”

“Join
our
circus.”

“But . . . what would
I
do? I can't do anything.”

“Yes, you can. You can learn. You can learn to do anything.
I didn't know anything when I joined.”

“But I'm an explorer. I have a submarine.”

“I know. You can still keep your submarine.”

I was so surprised. I never expected her to say that. We
walked in silence again.

“I don't think so, Cinnamon. I belong on the sea. I'm a
sailor.”

“We're on the sea too! We're all sailors. We're a sailing circus. That's why you would fit in perfectly.”

“I know, but it's not the same. I travel all over the world.”

She moved closer and held my arm. “Is that your sore
arm?”

“Yes, but it's getting a lot better.”

“There's something else I want to ask you.”

“What?”

She took a deep breath. “Don't answer right away, okay?
Just think about it first.”

“Okay.”

“Will you think about it first?”

“Yes. I will. What is it?”

“Will you take me to Goa in your submarine so that I can
look for my brother, and then take us back?”

Whoa. I never expected her to ask me that either. “Take
you all the way to India?”

“And back. Don't answer yet . . . unless your answer is
yes.”

I dropped my head. There wasn't anything for me to think
about. I knew the answer was no. But I didn't want to say it
and she didn't want to hear it. So, we walked quietly again.
I felt bad about it but I just knew it wasn't a good idea.

“Are you thinking about it?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know what your answer is?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“I'm sorry, Cinnamon. It isn't a good idea. It's very small
inside my submarine, and India is far away. It's dangerous
and I can't protect you.”

“You don't have to protect me.”

“If you come inside my submarine, yes, I do. I'm the captain and that makes it my responsibility.”

“You don't have to be so strict about it.”

Actually, I did. I looked down at the gunshot wound on
my arm. Then I thought of all the close calls we had had
since going to sea. Just a few months earlier we had given a
ride to a girl on the St. Lawrence River, and she had panicked when we got stuck on a cable sticking out of the
Empress of Ireland
, a huge luxury liner on the bottom of the
river. When the girl panicked, I had to lie to her to calm her
down. That was awful. I promised myself then that I would
never take passengers again, except in emergencies, because
I knew I couldn't really protect them. “I'm sorry.”

Her face fell. “It's okay. I guess I knew that's what you
would say. But you like me, right? We're friends, right?”

“Yes! I really like you a lot, I do. And I'm happy that we
are friends.”

“Well,
that's
good.”

She squeezed my arm (it hurt, but I didn't say anything)
and we continued our walk in silence.

I watched the circus the next night and the night after
that. I enjoyed it more each time. It didn't matter when you
knew what was going to happen; it was still exciting and
funny. I sat closer to the front each night. When the giants
came out they always scared me. When Dickie the Clown
laughed, I laughed harder. When he cried and said he was
leaving, I really felt sad, even though I knew it was all pretend. The circus was magic, it really was, and it swept me up
in its spell. If I hadn't been so committed to exploring already I might really have considered joining them, though I
couldn't imagine what I'd do. Maybe I would just sell tickets
and popcorn and help set up and take down. But could I
give up exploring the world to sell tickets and popcorn? No
way. Besides, I really wanted to become an environmentalist
now too. I didn't know how to do that exactly, but I would
find out.

In the daytime between performances, Hollie and I explored Saipan. We walked up Mount Tapotchau, the highest
point on the island, from where we could see Tinian, the
island where the atomic bomb was kept before it was dropped
on Japan. And we walked through jungle and down to some
of the beaches. For a small island Saipan had a lot of interesting things to look at.

Hollie was happy with all the walking. So was I, but I was
distracted too. No matter what we saw or what I thought
about, my mind kept drifting back to Paul. It bothered me
that he was stuck inside most of the time, that he never saw
anyone but the dogs he rescued, that he couldn't forgive
himself for something he had done such a long, long time
ago. That didn't feel right. Even criminals who went to prison for murder were freed eventually. Why couldn't Paul
be? I wanted to ask him that. I decided to visit him again.

It took an hour and a half to reach his house. It was easy
to spot because of the yellow butterflies that hovered around
it like yellow snowflakes. I went to the back and knocked.

A couple of dogs yipped inside. I could tell they were trying not to bark but couldn't help it; it was their nature. Paul
came to the door and opened it cautiously. “Ahhh, Alfred,
my friend. Come in. Coffee?”

I liked that he called me his friend. “Yes, please. Thank
you.”

“I didn't expect to see you again so soon. Did you visit
the library?”

“Yes, I did.”

I could tell by the look on his face that it really mattered
to him whether I had or not.

“And you've come back to see me again?”

“Yes. I wanted to ask you something.”

“Only one thing? I would expect a young man like you
would have a whole lot of questions for a crazy old man like
me.”

That was true. I could have asked him questions all night
long. “Yes, but there's one question in particular I'd like to
ask you. If I don't, I think it will haunt me.”

“Well, I can relate to that.”

“Do you believe in ghosts? That's not my question. I'm
just wondering if you do.”

“Yes, I do. It doesn't matter if you believe in them or not.
They're real.”

“Do you see them?”

“Yes. I see the ghosts of the people I killed.”

He poured boiling water into the percolator. The smell of
coffee filled the little house. He was an old man but I kept
thinking of him as a young man because he was young
when he came here, and something about him felt as if time
had stopped. It hadn't though; he was definitely old. He sat
down again and stared across the table at me and waited
patiently for me to ask my question.

It wasn't easy. “Do you think . . . do you think you will
ever forgive yourself?”

He shut his eyes and slowly opened them. They were soft.
They had the softness of someone who had been wounded,
like a dog. He shut them again and dropped his head. A single word dropped out of his mouth. “No.”

“But . . . why not? It was so long ago.”

“Was it?” He got up and brought the coffee to the table.
“Seems like yesterday to me.”

“Really?”

“Have you ever killed anybody, Alfred?”

“No.”

“Of course not. That would make you a murderer.”

“But you didn't start the war.”

“No. But I could have cleaned bedpans. I could have been
a nurse. I could have nursed burn victims back to health
instead of creating them. But I didn't. I wanted to be part of
the action.”

He stared intensely at me. “Sentencing myself to stay here
until the day I die, on the very soil on which I killed innocent people, is the only way I can live with myself. And I
have had to live with myself, you see, because I can never
take another life, not even my own. I don't expect you to understand that.”

“I guess I don't. I have to think about it. And I will.
Thank you for answering my question.”

“You're welcome.”

He poured the coffee and we drank it. We didn't talk
about the war anymore. We talked about the island and the
sea. He asked me about my sub and journeys. He said Newfoundland sounded like a fascinating place because it was so
far away. I laughed at that and assured him it wasn't. He said
that if I had been born and raised on Saipan, Newfoundland
would sound very exotic to me. But it didn't have typhoons,
tsunamis, volcanoes, nuclear explosions or world wars, I
said, just lots of fishing villages and fog. He said it sounded
like heaven. That made me laugh.

When I was leaving, we shook hands at the door. There was
no strength in his grip. I was used to strong handshakes—
from Ziegfreid, my grandfather, and pretty much everyone
else I met in Newfoundland, or on the sea. Paul's grip felt
like the hand of a man who had given up on life a long time
ago. Hollie and I went out. As we passed the window, I saw
him return to the stove and drop his head. I felt a pain in my
heart at the sight of it. And then, a wild idea jumped into my
head and I went back to the door and knocked.

“Alfred? Did you forget something?”

“I have just one more question.”

“Okay. Go ahead.”

He braced himself.

“Will you come to the circus with me this evening? It
starts in an hour. We'd have to leave now.”

He stood there and just stared at me for the longest time,
his eyes open wide. I was trying to think of something to
say to convince him to come but I couldn't find the words.
He surprised me. “Let me grab my jacket.”