Night of the Howling Dogs (10 page)

“Louie, wait!” I called. “Masa, can you take Casey by yourself?”

“You don’t understa—”

“Please, Masa—Zach and Mr. Bellows and some others might be down there. We got to help them.”

Uphill the screaming started again.

Casey moaned.

“Go,” Masa said, taking all of Casey’s weight. “Come back quick. Don’t stay down there.”

“If we hear a wave we’ll run for it.”

“Find Dad,” Casey squeaked.

“I’ll find him, Case. Don’t worry. If he’s there we’ll bring him up to you.” I squinted, barely making Louie out. “Louie, wait!”

“Go back!” he called. “You can’t see, remember? You need glasses.”

“All the same in the dark,” I mumbled to myself, stumbling ahead. Louie waited. “Where we going?” I said.

“We know when we get there.”

I couldn’t see two feet in front of me. The ocean was quiet, but my mind raced with thoughts of gagging on salt water, being held under, being gone, being nothing. Dead.

We stopped. Louie looked around.

“Where are we?” I said.

“Hard to tell. Different now. Keep going.”

I tested each step, afraid I might break an ankle or fall into some sharp crevice. My face and arms started stinging. I ran my hand over my cheek. Cuts, scratches, lumps everywhere.

Louie stopped and called out. “Anybody hear me?”

“Down here.”

The voice was weak.

We headed toward it.

“Keep talking,” Louie said. “I can’t see you.”

“I’m in the crack.”

“It’s Reverend Paia!
Reverend
!” I called.

“Dylan?”

“Me and Louie, we’re coming.”

I squinted into the dark. Louie crouched next to me. I couldn’t believe the crack hadn’t caved in. Reverend Paia’s white shirt was a faint gray in the black hole. “There,” I whispered.

“Mike,” Reverend Paia said. “Is he—”

“He’s fine,” Louie said. “He went higher up looking for you.”

“Thank God, thank…God.”

We inched down the trail toward him. “You hurt, Reveren’?” Louie said.

“My arm…it’s broken.”

“Hang on. We almost there.”

Louie and I crept closer, our hands following the wall of rock. Louie stumbled, and I fell over him. He’d hit something lying on the trail. We both staggered to our feet.

“What is it?” I said.

“Dead horse,” Reverend Paia said. “Sorry, I forgot it was there.”

We stepped around it.

Reverend Paia wasn’t alone. The murky shape of someone lay in his arms. Louie and I crouched down. “Sam?” I said.

“Tad. He swallowed a lot of ocean, but he’s alive.”

I stood ankle-deep at the edge of the warm brackish water. The rocks under my feet were slippery with moss. The crack was as black as black could get.

“Anybody else down here?”

“I don’t think so. We need a flashlight.”

“Lost mines in the wave,” Louie said.

Wave.
What if we were in here and another one came? The thought made my scalp tingle. “We got to get out of here!”

“Can you stand, Reveren’?” Louie said.

“We’ll see. Help me with Tad.”

I knelt in the water and took Tad, his head resting on my shoulder. He was out cold, or asleep. I tried to stand and staggered under his weight.

“Gimme him,” Louie said. “You help the Reveren’.” Louie lifted Tad and carried him back up the trail.

“Give me your hand, Reverend.” He gasped, and struggled to his feet. He grabbed my shoulder with his good arm. The other hung loosely at his side.

“You hurt anywhere else, sir?” I said.

“All I know for sure is that I’m breathing, son. But I can walk…if we go slow.”

We staggered up the trail, Reverend Paia clinging to my shoulder. He was heavy. Water soaked his clothes. His skin felt clammy and he smelled like fish and seaweed. We skirted the dead horse.

Louie waited with Tad at the top.

Slowly, we made our way uphill toward where Masa and Casey had gone, and, I hoped, Mike. They had a light up there. I could see a dull glow. Reverend Paia’s arm flopped around like an old hose, but he kept moving, gasping when he tripped. Tad started mumbling. A good sign.

Mike hurried down to help. “Pop!” he called.

“Boy, am I glad to see you, son.” Reverend Paia winced when Mike hugged him. “Easy, Mike…my arm’s—”

“Sorry, sorry…I should have—”

“Help me walk. I don’t want to trip.”

“Yeah, Pop, I got you.” We continued up the hill.

“We found them in the crack,” I said.

“Where’s my dad?” Casey asked when we reached the others. “Didn’t you see him?”

What could I say?

“Dad!”
Casey shouted, and turned to head down the hill. He gasped at the pain in his knee.

Louie grabbed him by the shoulders. “Listen to me…. We going back right now, soon as we find these two someplace to sit. We won’t stop looking, ah? We find him.”

The only light came from a single flashlight. They’d set it on the rocks in a way that illuminated as much ground as possible. Masa, Cappy, Billy, and two other paniolos were spread out on a flat patch of dirt. Billy was sobbing.

Mike groped around until he found a place for his dad to sit. Louie eased Tad down onto a flat patch of ground and knelt beside him. “How you feeling, little man?”

“My head…it hurts.”

“You seen some action.”

Billy shrieked and Louie looked up. Masa hurried over to Billy. “’S’okay, boy. You safe now.” He pulled Billy close and glanced over at us. “Terrified.”

Louie turned back to Tad.

I looked out into the darkness. Other than the one flashlight, the stars were all the light we had until sunrise. It wasn’t far off. Zach, Sam, Mr. Bellows, and one paniolo—where were they?

Louie appeared at my side. “We go,” he said, almost in a whisper.

Masa patted Billy’s shoulder and stood. He came over. “Too dark now. Wait for morning, then go.”

“Can’t,” Louie said. “No time to waste.”

Louie was right. What if one of them was barely hanging on and needed help right now? Sunrise might be too late. “We’ll be back soon,” I said.

“Go,” Masa said, knowing we had no choice. “Watch for Lenny. He’s my cousin.”

“We find him,” Louie said. “Thanks for helping us.”

“I’m going, too,” Casey said, hopping up. He’d wrapped his knee in his T-shirt. But he still couldn’t walk.

“Not with that leg,” I said.

“You can’t stop me!”

“Case,” I said. “Me and Louie can move faster than you, and cover more ground. Let us find him. They need you here.”

Casey knew I was right. He limped over to a rock and sat with his head in his hands. I thought of Dad and how I’d feel if I were in Casey’s place. Nothing would stop me from looking.

“Take this,” Masa said, holding up a small flashlight. “Billy had it.” He handed it to Louie, who turned it on. The beam was faint. He flicked it off and stuck it in his back pocket. “Just use um when we need um.”

We groped our way downhill, Louie in front.

My shorts and shirt were clammy in the morning air. I would have given anything for dry clothes and boots. It wasn’t easy walking barefoot over the rocks.

Any trail that had been there before was gone now. The landscape had been rearranged. There was nothing to follow. And it was dark. But for me it was almost better that way. In the light of day it would be harder to see with no glasses. But now I could see just as well as Louie. My feet were my eyes.

Down, down, down, back toward an ocean so quiet you’d have thought nothing had happened. Starlight reflected off its silky flat surface.

“Hold it,” Louie said, stopping. He flicked the flashlight’s weak beam on and swept it over the ground around his feet. He squatted.

“What is it?”

“These yours?” he said, dangling my slightly twisted glasses from the fishing line, now attached to only one stem.

I grabbed them. “I can’t believe you found them!”

“Stars reflected off the glass.”

“Amazing.”

The metal frames were bent and one lens was cracked. But the other one was still good. I bent the frames back, retied the fishing line to one stem, and put them on. They didn’t help much. Too dark. So I let them hang around my neck. When the sun came up it would make all the difference in the world to have them.

“Thanks, Louie,” I said. “Thanks.”

He stood. “I hope we not looking for bodies.”

“Mr. Bellows!” I called.

Silence.

We both yelled, “Sam! Zach! Lenny! Anybody!”

Nothing.

The sea had moved inland. I could see that now in the faint illumination of the stars. The coast as we knew it no longer existed. Never, not in my whole life, would I forget that sinking ground: going down, going under, being swallowed by the earth and the ocean at the same time.

“Sit,” Louie said.

“Here?”

“Let it get little bit more light. We might pass right by somebody. Look, sun coming up soon.”

The black sky was turning to deep purple. The ocean horizon cut across the east, sharp as a razor. It would be a cloudless sunrise.

We peered into the new morning, looking toward the sea and the grove where Mr. Bellows and the younger guys had set up their campsite. More and more, I became aware of my aching body, the stinging cuts and scratches, the salt crystals that inflamed them. Sitting still and thinking about the pain made it worse. I felt a large lump on the back of my head. No blood, though.

Memories came and went. Falling, sinking. Boulders. Ocean. Gagging.

Drowning.

Stars faded as dawn light grew. Shapes started to emerge. I squinted into the inky distance, trying to make out the camp in the grove. What looked like coconut trees began to appear. Black silhouettes against the lightening sea. Yes, those were the…the coconut trees.

I stopped breathing.

“My God,” Louie whispered.

The trees were rising out of the ocean.

The palm fronds were just as full as on any other day, healthy and green. But now they sprouted from the sea.

Had this really happened?

We sat stunned in the growing light. The crack, too, was oddly out of place, closer to the ocean. The shelters that weren’t too close to the sea were piles of crushed rock, their gnarled and twisted roofing sprawled farther inland where the ocean had tossed them.

Louie tapped my arm. He stood and nodded toward a pool of water at the edge of the sea.

I creaked up and squinted. There was something there, floating. I put on my broken glasses. The cracked lens made the vision in my left eye weird. But I could see.

We headed down.

My stomach roiled in fear. The ocean repelled me, like a reverse magnet. I wanted to go the other way, go higher, then higher again…not closer. Another wave would kill me. I knew that without question. Next time I’d die for real.

Stop! Don’t think. You got to find people.

I was beginning to believe that Louie had more guts than the rest of us put together. Nothing seemed to scare him, not broken arms, not a dead horse, not sinking land, not killer waves. It was as if he’d steeled himself against anything the world could throw at him. He was made of something I wasn’t.

“Louie, wait up!”

He went faster and faster, leaping from rock to rock. I could hardly keep up. Sharp rocks stabbed my bare feet. I searched for smooth places to step. I’d be no good if I got cut.

I gasped and staggered to a stop when I saw what was floating in the pool of water. “That’s a—”

Louie waded out to it.

A human head.

I felt sick.

“Come!” Louie called back to me.

I stumbled closer, the pain in my feet forgotten.

It was Lenny’s head.

It spoke. “I’m stuck…. My legs broken…both of them.”

A small wave rolled over him, submerging him. He sputtered and coughed when it passed, the water up to his chin.

Louie slipped on the uneven bottom, falling, getting back up. I jumped into the water and slogged closer, my fear of the ocean gone. All that mattered was that Lenny was alive! The tide was coming in and we had to get him out.

“Rocks on my legs,” he said, wincing.

Louie fell to his knees, feeling underwater. I knelt behind Lenny and propped his head up in my hands. His hair was long and fell into his eyes. I swept it away so he could see. He was a young guy, maybe twenty-five.

“Ai-yah!” he yelped, as Louie began lifting rocks away.

“Sorry. Can you move now?” Louie said.

Lenny shook his head. “Only…this one arm. I…I broke up too bad.”

Louie moved all the rocks away and glanced at me. “Get on the other side. We going lift him and carry him out. How’s the pain, Lenny? Can you take it?”

Lenny touched a curved scar on his chin. “When I was seventeen a bull wen’ kick out my teeth and broke my jaw.”

“Guess that’s a yes,” I said. I moved around to his side. “Okay, I got him.”

Louie reached under Lenny. He smiled at him before we lifted. “Nice to meet you, Lenny. You ready?”

Lenny hooked his good arm around my neck and squeezed his eyes shut. “Go.”

He gasped when we lifted him, the heavy water in his clothes tugging him back. His broken arm flopped, and Louie laid it across his chest. The break was just above his elbow, the bone trying to poke out of the skin. His legs dangled like dead eels. He was missing one boot.

Careful not to slip and fall, we moved Lenny up out of the water, carried him to a patch of sand and set him down. “I thought my time was up,” he said, and squeezed his eyes shut.

Louie turned to look up toward the others. It was lighter now, and we could see them clearly. Masa was watching us. Could he see that we’d found Lenny? I waved him down. He raised a hand and turned to get help.

“All the time I was in the water I could hear you folks up there,” Lenny said.

“We going carry you, Lenny,” Louie said. “Might hurt little bit.”

Lenny nodded.

I looked over my shoulder.

Masa, Cappy, and Mike were easing their way down over the uneven ground.

“Wait,” I said. “Help is on the way.”

Louie lifted his chin toward me. “That four-eyed ugly is Dylan, Lenny. I’m Louie.”

“Louie…like the guy writes the westerns.”

“Westerns?”

A horse whinnied.

Hearing the horse, Lenny tried to get up, forgetting his broken bones. “Ahhh…ahhh!”

“The horses are fine,” Louie said. “I can see three of them right now.”

“One was in the crack,” I said. “Dead.”

“Ahh…shoot,” Lenny said.

Louie gave me a look and shook his head: Shut up.

“Who is it?” Masa called, almost down to us.

I looked up. “Lenny! It’s Lenny.”

Masa crouched and put his hand on Lenny’s shoulder. “What kind of mess you got yourself in now, cousin?”

Lenny grinned. “Couple broken bones, is all.”

“Thank goodness.”

Cappy and Mike leaned in over Masa. Lenny said, “That’s the first time I ever heard anyone say thank goodness for broken bones, boss.” He tried to laugh. It hurt, so he stopped. His eyes were rimmed with red.

“Pele must be angry with you,” Masa said. “What you did to make her mad?”

“Nothing, boss…. Mistaken identity.”

Masa shook his head.

Lenny lifted his one good arm. “This is all I got left, but I be back on my horse quick as a wink.”

“Sure you will,” Masa said, ruffling Lenny’s hair.

In the growing light I could see that each of us was covered with cuts, bruises, and scratches. It was as if we’d been attacked by a Weedwacker. I checked my arms and legs. Nothing too bad. The lump on my head didn’t hurt.

I looked up to judge the distance we would have to carry Lenny. Reverend Paia was looking down, watching us. His arm was in a homemade sling. “Where’s Casey?” I said to Masa. “I don’t see him up there.”

Masa frowned. “Went looking for his daddy.”

“When?”

“It was still dark.”

“But his knee.”

“He found a stick to use like a cane.”

I stood and studied the coast in both directions. “There he is.” I could see him up the coast, a small figure near where Tad had hidden from the wasps.

Just then, there was another howl. The dogs! Closer this time.

“It’s them,” Masa said, looking up.

I scanned the landscape. No dogs.

Masa, still squatting with Lenny, pointed his chin toward where the howling had come from. “Go,” he said. “We take Lenny up.”

“Go where?” I said.

“The dogs. They calling.”

“What?”

“Go!”

I looked down the coast. It was as empty of life as the moon. “Masa,” I said. “There’s nothing there.”

He stood and squinted into the distance. “You wrong, boy. Those dogs howling about something new.”