The Lost Hearts (13 page)

Tabitha stood on her tiptoes and squealed.  “God, yes.  I have feeling we’ve got lots to talk about.”

***

On the tenth day of
the
Oceanic’s
voyage, Alexis stood at the bow of the mammoth ship.  Above her, the night sky seemed to swallow the earth itself, the sound of the hull slicing against the black current the only evidence that they were connected to the shadowed round of the planet.
 
She closed her eyes, and she let the gushing wind fill her lungs.   Tomorrow, she would bid farewell to yet another milestone in her life as the ship pulled into Sydney.  She let her mind sift through the days that pulled her further from Boston, each one stretching like gum into an epic fold of time which seemed to dwarf the decades before. 

She smiled fondly as she thought of Tabitha, how casually she had strolled into her life that first evening on the deck, and how significant she had become.  They were inseparable, and as though they both understood that their friendship was somehow fated, they crammed their days together with the most intimate of stories and revelations, leaving nothing unsaid.

“You’re kidding me!” Tabitha had shrieked, collapsing backward on the bed in Alexis’ cabin.  It was late and the two had been swigging from the bottle of brandy.  Tabitha’s eyes crinkled, tears streaming over her cheeks, and she clutched her stomach, trying to catch her breath.  Alexis had just recounted the humiliation of her entrance at the Talbot’s Autumn party, the way her gleaming dress had almost split up the middle, and the glacial reception of her future mother-in-law.

“So you mean to tell me you’re going to bind yourself to that horrendous woman for the rest of your life?”  Tabitha had meant it as a joke, still carried away on a fit of giggles.  But Alexis swallowed hard over resurging doubt. 

“Well,” she started, “I guess I’m hoping we’ll manage to keep our distance.”  The mood shifted, and Alexis suddenly felt a dark sense of foreboding. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, Alexis.  I didn’t mean to-”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Alexis had reassured her new friend.  “Do you think I’m being naïve?  About Philip?”

Tabitha’s mouth curled at an awkward angle.  They were entering a dangerous
realm of question and answer.  “You know what you’re getting into better than I do,” she tried, hoping the casual evasion would satisfy Alexis.

Alexis’ brows folded into a skeptical crease.  “…But…” she prompted.

Tabitha smiled weakly.  “But, as an unwilling member of those kinds of circles, I think it will be difficult.”  She cleared her throat.  She did not want to influence her friend, but those sapphire eyes blinked with such earnestness that she could not keep quiet.  “It will be difficult, Alexis.  From what you’ve told me about Philip, he is head over heels for you.  But I know the kind of life he has, and the kind of family he has.  Gee, even I know who the Talbots are.  Everyone has a role, and everyone fulfills it.  If you marry him, you might not have to fight
him
, but you will have to fight every person associated with him.  And imagine what you’ll ask of him to ignore and defy family and friends, all of whom mean so much to him.”

Alexis groaned.  The giddy effects of the brandy had turned on her.  Her mind churned with unwanted questions.  Questions and doubts she thought she’d left
behind her.  “What would you do?” she heard herself ask.  It wasn’t like her to depend on someone else for answers.

Tabitha lowered
her eyes.  “That’s a tough one, Alexis.  Personally, I couldn’t do it.  It’s hard enough to survive among my own family.  It’s taken a lot of time to convince them that I’m never going to be a little doll.  And I still have my battles.  So forget about marrying into another family with similar expectations.  No way,” she breathed.  She reached her hand to Alexis’ shoulder and gave it a squeeze.  “But that’s me.  I can’t possibly tell you what to do.  And who knows,” she added with optimism, “maybe Philip will be inspired, and he will whisk you away to some remote, exotic place, and you two will lead a quiet, peaceful life.  Far, far away from in-laws.” 

“
Thanks, Tab,” Alexis had said when the pair could hardly keep their eyes open and she showed her to the door.  It had been one of Alexis’ best nights. 

For the whole of her life, Alexis had guarded herself against the bitter emptiness of friendship, cushioning the void with her father’s company, with Philip’s appearances of tolerance.  Tabitha resided firmly in her heart now, possessing her stories as personal secrets.  She knew their goodbye would be tearful, but she was swept up in the overwhelming peace of heart that she would see her friend again.

Chapter
Ten

Alexis sat on a plain wooden bench, bolted sturdily to the cafeteria on the smaller, more authentically rustic sea vessel that would carry her to the remote island of New Guinea.  She poked at the bland strips of beef and vegetables on her tin plate and reviewed with longing the moments she’d spent aboard
The Oceanic
.  Her stomach turned and she looked disparagingly at the lumps of unappetizing food before her. 

She’d understood immediately the distinct change in tone of her adventure the moment she beheld
the
Allegiant.
  It was slightly larger than the ferries she’d seen crossing Boston Harbor, but weathered and dingy, unconvincing to the eye of its seaworthiness.  The paint along the hull chipped and peeled, wood and iron warped by stories unknown to Alexis.  Reluctantly she had presented her boarding ticket to the ship attendant, a lanky young man with smooth coffee skin and worn clothing too big in the waist.  He’d bit down on a thin strip of wood between his white teeth, smiled widely and gestured toward the gangplank.  Alexis had returned a nervous smile, and cast an uncertain glance back at her conspicuously abundant luggage. 

“I will bring these to your cabin
,” he had said with assurance. She had grinned at the sweet melody his voice made of those commonplace words.  

Alexis looked around the cafeteria
at her fellow passengers.  Here she remarked a notable difference as well.  On the
Oceanic
she was ordinary at best.  Nothing of her clothing or the places she frequented set her apart from or above the other passengers.  Now she writhed uneasily in her well-fitted day dress and expensive leather heels.  The extra care of pinning a cap stylishly atop her hair seemed superfluous, ostentatious even.  The ship’s travelers were mostly men in modest, worn clothing.  The women wore light cotton fabrics dyed in deep, impressive hues.  Around her, voices peaked and plunged with sounds unfamiliar to her ears, peppered now and again with English. 

A young man sat next to her, enthusiastically combing a tin plate with the same unappealing cuisine.  When he smiled at her she recognized him as the ship attendant who had collected her ticket.  “Hello,” he said through his ample smile.

“Hello,” Alexis replied.

“You look a little frightened.  Is it the food or the boat?”  He let his mouth open around a hearty laugh and stabbed his fork into a fat green bean.  Alexis giggled sheepishly.  She saw the twinkle in his eyes and relaxed instantly.  He reache
d his broad hand across to her.  “My name is Inisi.  And you?”

“I’m Alexis,” she said.

Alexis put her hand in
his, and she felt the coa
rse skin of his fingers close over her.  Inisi winked.  “Nice to meet you.” 

Alexis liked his
eyes.  They were dark and seemed to breathe warmth and ease.  His body, long and muscular, arched over the table to lean on an elbow.  The wide expanse of his torso was covered by a simple white shirt, open at the collar.  His skin glowed black and soft underneath.

“And you’re all alone?  I’ve never seen this before, Alexis.  A white woman coming to New Guinea on this kind of boat alone.”  Alexis might have felt nervous by the inquisition, but she could see only curiosity in his face.  Inisi pointed at the other diners with his fork, a pea stuck to the end of a tine.  “These people, they take this boat for two reasons.  They leave New Guinea to find work, and they return to find their family.  And the white people, well, they go to the island with their money and somehow they return with more money.  What do you have in New Guinea, Alexis?”

Alexis stammered.  She knew Inisi’s comments were mere observations of an unpleasant reality, but she suddenly felt the need to defend herself, to not be lumped with one group or another.  She had always rebelled against the shameful colonial attitudes of the West, and lamented their tragic and crippling impacts upon the civilizations they oppressed.  She saw her pale skin now as though it were a badge which flashed a membership she didn’t want.

Inisi watched her, the dark of his eyes unblinking as he waited for her to reply.  “Uh, I suppose I’m also going to New Guinea for work.  But not to make money,” she said with hasty punctuation.

Inisi chewed thoughtfully, a brow raised. 

Alexis continued, “I’m going to the island to do some research.”

Inisi shook his head.  “Research?”

“Back home I study civilizations that we don’t know much about.  I want to learn more information about the culture of a New Guinean tribe.”  Alexis suddenly felt silly and absurd, as though she herself didn’t understand her own motives in this new strange context.  “Are you from New Guinea?” she asked him quickly.

Inisi cocked his head, his eyes swept upward as though he were deciding how to explain himself.  “I’m a…what do you say…a mutt?  I have family from New Guinea and Australia, but when I’m not on this boat,” he said mid-chew, “I spend most of my time on the island.” 

Inisi ate his meal with gusto, savoring every last skin of the vegetables as they sat in silence amid the hubbub of lively conversation around them.  Her eyes swept across the dining room, and she was struck by the number of passengers milling about the small craft, crowding the boat’s chef who stood attentively behind the vats of steaming supper.  She looked at the table behind, the men squeezed shoulder to shoulder, the clear center of attention leaning forward for his audience to hear.  Seconds later, the men pitched backward, slapping the tables in an uproar of laughter.  Alexis smiled, wishi
ng she knew what made them erupt so heartily.  Further down the benches, illuminated now by the bald light of naked bulbs, women ate with babies slung over their shoulders, young children sitting between the slender bodies of their mothers and aunts.  The women slapped each other’s hands as they laughed, bowled their bodies into friends despite the cramped space.  Alexis had no appetite now, but she did not want to leave her new companion just yet. 

“Inisi,” she said softly, and he leaned his head forward to hear her better.  “Inisi, where does everybody sleep?”

Inisi set his fork over the edge of his plate and said casually, “Some will sleep in the bunk cabins, and some will sleep on the deck.”  He watched her face and perceived the concern in her question.  “They are used to those kinds of accommodations.  We don’t do things so separately here.” 

Alexis nodded.  She understood that Americans especially were accustomed to privacy and individual spaces, and that most cultures tended to lean toward more collective living.  Again she felt uncomfortable about her place in this new world, inadequate to operate in its reality despite
her heavy academic understanding of these differences.  Running her finger along the splintered wood of the bench table, Alexis wondered nervously just how inept she might feel in a matter of days when this exotic tale would reach full throttle.

In her miniscule cabin, Alexis sat on the thin mattress of the cot, a lone, uncovered bulb blinking with effort from the tea-colored ceiling.  There weren’t any of the quaint, nautical-themed decorations reminiscent of the
Oceanic
.  Instead, it was the rawest, truest version of a sea-faring vessel, its whitish walls colored only by a tapestry of leak stains.  Her leather suitcases were piled high beside her, leaving just enough space to enter and exit the room.  There were none of the pleasing polished wooden armoires, or vanity mirrors fastened to walls.  And so her quarters remained spartan, as she was unable to leave the imprint of her life by unraveling her garments or spraying surfaces with toiletries.  During her three days aboard the
Allegiant
, she had pecked at her bags like a bird, taking only what was necessary in the moment. 

She struggled with how uprooted she felt.  Wasn’t it the ultimate fantasy she had weaved her entire life?  Basic, rustic living?  She couldn’t believe what a psychological effect her possessions had on her.  To see them, touch them, made her feel at home, secure.  In their absence, she was without identity, an anonymous body bobbing at sea.  Less than a single day separated Alexis from New Guinea, and each hour that drew the boat closer to Port Moresby rattled her bones.

She discovered the most soothing balm for her nerves was Inisi.  She had spent the last days shadowing him when she felt he could spare the attention.  She marveled at the ease in which he lived his life.  She had never met anyone so at home in their own skin.  And when they spoke, he made no effort to conceal that her ambitions to catalogue New Guinean civilizations were lost on him, nor did he criticize her.

“What will you do with all this information you’re collecting once you return to your homeland?” Inisi asked the first afternoon aboard
The Allegiant
, running a wide palm over his sweaty brow.               

“Well, we’ll publish it in journals for a mass audience.  And it will serve as the basis for further studies.”

“And more information collecting?”  Inisi returned to his work repairing a frayed rope.

“Yes,” Alexis said, stroking her lips thoughtfully with a finger.

“And then they will publish that information for more people to read?” 

“Yes,” Alexis replied.

Inisi paused and looked at her, his wide eyes blinking curiously at her.  “Okay, okay, Alexis.  I know,” he said, his tone totally devoid of judgment.  “It’s important to tell stories.  In New Guinea we pass on the stories of our ancestors.  It’s just that most of the people I know are too poor to worry about other places, other people, reports and publishing,” he continued.  “We cannot afford the time to do more than work and feed our families.”

Alexis squirmed.  Without any intention whatsoever, he was managing to make her question beliefs she’d felt
were perfectly natural, normal.  When Inisi looked up from his work he saw that Alexis’ face was frozen.  He laughed good-naturedly and shook his head.  “We are from very different places, Alexis.  That’s all.”  He wound the coil of rope over his shoulder and leaned forward a moment.  “And what about your family?  What do they think about you doing this? Are you married?”

Alexis blushed.  It was the first time Inisi had asked her such a personal question. “I’m not married.  Yet.  I got engaged just before coming on this trip.”
  Alexis lowered her eyes to her hand, her finger bare since she had entrusted the ring to her father on the pier.

Inisi threw back his head and howled.  Alexis’ brow sank into a scowl.  Inisi tapped his foot and clapped his hands in delight.  “This is the first time I hear of a woman getting engaged to marry and then running away.” 

Alexis put up a finger to protest, but her companion was doubled over in hysterics.  When Inisi had recovered from the hilarity of her romantic life, he sucked in a deep restorative breath.  “I’m sorry, Alexis,” he said with dramatic sobriety. 

Alexis folded her arms, and for a moment she couldn’t decide whether or not to punish him with silence.  But she saw the corner of his mouth twitch dangerously, and the two exploded into aching fits of laughter.

***

A crack of electric thunder split low across the Coral Sea and the boat trembled underneath its imperious roar.  Alexis’ mind wrenched free of Inisi and their conversations, and she clutched the brittle frame of her cot, her eyes wide with agitation.  She had retreated, almost gratefully, to her room earlier when she saw the sky gather menacingly into a smoky slate.  The clouds had charged like cavalry, and the women knotted their hair in quick braids, clutching inconsolable children, clucking gently in their ears.  She had seen Inisi studying the sky, his face
fixed with the impassive recognition of what was coming.  He had called to the passengers camped out along the deck, and they moved purposefully, collecting their few possessions as they sought cover.

Another jolt passed through the body of
the
Allegiant
as thunder exploded around them like cannons.  The smallest suitcase toppled onto Alexis, smashing against the bed frame, spilling like guts onto the tattered white sheet.  She could hear the wind now, howling violently, pulling the sea into a series of steep hills and valleys.  The tower of her belongings now visibly shook and teetered with each climb and descent over the mounting crests of ocean.  From above, she could hear voices frantically calling through pelts of rain, heavy footsteps clobbering against the deck floorboards. 

A sharp slap of guilt stung Alexis.  She thought of the mothers and their children, sitting wet and afraid under the tarps they’d constructed in mere minutes as the storm burst above them.  She wrestled a suitcase from the stack and rifled through its contents, searching futilely for a rubber slicker.  The bulb blinked and sputtered into blackness.  Her face was wet with perspiration, and once more she fought the urge to sink low into the corner of her black cave until the storm had passed.  Steadying her breath, she braced her quivering frame against the wall, her fingers splayed as she felt for the door knob. 

In the corridor, the white lights fluttered over squatting men, women and children huddled elbow to elbow.  Wailing babies sung their sorrow, and mothers hummed despite the vicious fits of the boat defending its place at sea.  Alexis saw a young man descend the iron stairway.  He moved through the thick of refugees, his voice bellowing instructions Alexis could not understand.  As he neared she saw it was Inisi.  His face glistened with rain, his eyes wide.