The Arrival Page 4

  Darren is enclosing in 3...2...then 1 would come, but he’s 10 yards away and sees a couple of machetes chucked with a sudden glitch of his eye and the weapon lying in the spot that he just about leaves! The door is in sight, real close. His arms outstretched for that doorknob long before he reaches it to turn and twist. He bashes it open with his shoulder to give it some levvy. He feels the occupied air of a machete flamingly coming down as it cuts a straight line down his spine and leaves a long tear just before he is inside Hona’s house and slams the covered jaw of the man who’s trying to get in.

  He can’t because Darren is savagely kicking the front door once, twice, and the third time it knocks the man back outside who’s guarding his frontal bone with enough time for Darren to slam it shut! He hears Hona yelling, “my home. An agreement was made. You’re not allowed to enter or cause damage! Leave, all of you, at once! Go! Get lost!” Hona is furious.

  Peacock and his cronies stand outside Hona’s home like the waking dead ready to purge whoever waits inside. Darren sees them through the window. A few of the women spit at the home. The males give the imaginary process of urinating on the wall. And a few heckle and provoke, “come out stranger. How long will you wait inside!?”

  Hona fires a shot, but this time it directly hits one of the machetes and the leading man who had heckled Darren to come-out the closet drops it. They all turn to Hona now. But it’s Peacock who approaches him like the leader of an irrational pack of bloodthirsty carnivores. “You would shoot the arm of the one who only wants to be fed?”

  “If you cause any damage to my home, then yes, I would! You’ve gone too far with this Peacock. Not every man is the enemy.”

  Darren sees in the distance, an image of jet-black wrangler jeeps with no soft tops and a couple of men with guns inside. He can’t make out what type of AK that is. They’re too far away. It’s blurry from where he can see, but a few of Peacocks boys and girls are chasing after these vehicles. “Don’t run, jog. Conserve your energy for when we get there!”

  They do this, and the rest start to jog after the jeeps that are speeding off quickly. “I will be back for your stranger, Hona. You cannot protect him forever in that little dome you call home. Tell him, because my words will be to faint for him to hear. Tell him that no man or woman comes here without interrogation. Even you know this!”

  Peacock now jogs off and yells at them, “let them reach with their guns. They’ll see the sword is more powerful!”

  Chapter 5

  Hona carries two plates of food in his hands. “I hope you’re hungry? This dish is called dolmades, a Greek dish celebrated and symbolic to the Sukkot holiday. It is meant to mean bounty galore, plentiful.” He lays the plate down for Darren who finds the grape leaves have a peppermint stick insect look wrapped in a leafy cigar paper. They’re bigger than the size of his fingers.

  He has no words to describe how much he wishes there was meat on this plate. He chucks a couple of grapes into his mouth. And squeezes the lemon on the stuffed leaves. “It’s filled with pine nuts, dill, rice, mint, and plenty of pepper and garlic. I warmed it up on the stove. It is a delicious meal.”

  Darren takes a bite out of one, and immediately a rush of flavors from the mint, dill, and crunch of the pine nuts overwhelm him into a stuffed praise of, “mmm” Darren approves.

  “Yes. There is plenty more so eat your belly full Darren.” They both finish a handful more, drink some water, and then find the time is slipping away and the tranquillity of what had happened is returning.

  As Darren eats some plain boiled rice in a bowl, he observes Hona and his home which is very much an ideal country placement. It’s warm. A one bedroom, one toilet, no stairs, and no clutter. The kitchen and living room area are merged together as one. The colors coordination is a pinewood brown and auburn red. There is no Television box, but a radio, black filing cabinets, headphones, an inspection kit, a mini UV lamp, and some scissors and black duct tape lay on the olefin carpet and beyond that space.

  Hona treats his home with the same respect that a hoarder would if they had this confined space. It sure is for a singleton. Everything is handled like a storage box. Darren has had to move car keys aside, non-fiction biographies, biro pens, plain pieces of paper, he almost went for a skate on the empty bottles of wine, but chose to pick it up and lay it on the see-through coffee table that’s packed as it is with a shaving kit, some hair clippers, pieces of foil that he wonders what the hell!?

  “I live like a man in depression. I’ve never liked to clean much. If you use the bathroom there are a few dirty towels on the floor, just kick them to the side.”

  “I’m ok for now.” Darren tries to give Lee another call. He patiently waits for her to answer. She never was the quickest to pick up. But making this the 5th attempt, he’s sure that Lee must have her phone elsewhere. “She’s not answering.”

  “Is that unlike your lady friend?”

  “It’s very much her style to answer when she’s good and ready. But not after the 3rd call or something.”

  “She seems like a strong woman. I’m sure she’ll be fine for tonight. I cannot risk you going out there after the attack.”

  “What makes you think that I’m safe here?”

  “They don’t do any harm to their own. We aren’t the issue. So, they cause no damage to property, land, business, and whatever ownership the townsfolk claim as their own. It still keeps them humane. But no less dangerous! The way they acted today is normal, but it never used to be so upfront and boisterous in front of me. They’re becoming restless.”

  “That Peacock is a scary flamingo. But he seems to have a good working noggin on him?”

  “Yes. Well, he was a geography teacher once upon a time. Did a bit of sailing on a fisherman boat that he borrowed from a friend of his. Got to see more than most around here when it comes to the open-mindedness of other parts of the globe. Read from the small public library that nobody uses anymore. He was a good son. But ended up in the factory work like everybody else when Alabastor moved here.”

  “Who’s Alabstor?”

  “A man with four eyes and six arms.” Hona chuckles top himself and then goes off into his own coconut shell. “He’s what we call a caretaker around here. The one in charge. A man that keeps wanting until all that’s left is what others can give him. And when they can’t give it to him anymore, he’ll brandish a law that says to kiss his ass, and nobody would argue to do it. And what can you do when he enforces guns, hardship, and a policy to work and see the wonders of your slave labour?”

  “There’s plenty wrong out here, Hona.”

  “That is only the smallest fraction. I hate politics.”

  “As do I.”

  “But this is what we must deal with. And until then, we have to make do with the scarce scraps on offer.”

  “Then I need to find the scraps and see if Lee is ok.”

  “Please!” Hona plonks himself down onto his scrappy sofa with more fluff than a plucked chicken. He’s taped it down with duct tape to avoid losing all the stuffing inside. It’s a sad looking piece of furniture. “Have a glass of wine and wait until the morning. You heard those rebels ... they’ll be rampant tonight. And tomorrow, I must go to Shandi town and hope to all hell that no civilian deaths were on the charter.”

  “Your phone is going off.” Darren sees Hona’s Nokia flickering bright green and then dying down with a moveable vibration at the end. The phone nearly falls off the table.

  Hona puts down the bottle and collects his phone. “Oh no. As expected, I’ll be busy in the morning.” Another text comes through, “not the morning. Right now.”

  “What’s happened?”

  “A few rebels have been rounded up. A couple of authoritative deaths on the market. Some injuries. And a lack of real policing out here that gives a monkey’s strudel. And all because they won’t leave the town and abolish the penury that they have the people working under. I must go.” Hona gathers his car keys, front zipper jacket that’
s infected with creases and 4-large pockets, and stuffs a couple mouthfuls of rice. “You will stay here.” Rice is spilling like a waterfall. He chews and swallows quickly... he wipes his mouth. “There are sheets in that cupboard.”

  Darren gets up and follows Hona into the bathroom that’s cramped. “Here.” Darren coughs from the dust particles that drop and then nods to say that he sees the sheet. “Sleep on the couch. It might look a little hazardous but it’s comfy. Will you stay here? Can I have some indication that you won’t leave?”

  “I always give my word. But if anything at all should happen to Lee, I won’t think twice about trying to save her Hona. For now, I should stay and rest. But if I’m not here, know it was for a good reason.”

  Hona can’t get any better that. “I suppose that will have to do. Just watch yourself from now on.” As soon as Hona leaves, Darren takes some more rice and adds it to a small plate with a few spare grapes. He sits on the sofa with his phone in the other hand and gives Lee another quick call whilst he eats.

  Hona’s rice has plenty of curry sauce, so it makes it quite appetizing to eat alone. It’s spicy, like chili’s somewhere in there, and Darren is ok with that. “Answer you're...” he forgets he has food in his mouth and chews it slowly. One more time he thinks...or better yet, let me text her. His message is brief: haven’t heard from you. Any developments out there? I’ve had my own fair share of info. No closer to finding Ringo though. He might be at this Shandi town. I should see you in the morning. Text me back.”

  Darren wants to leave a few kisses, but that would be a little soppy for Lee. She’s ... to him, not the type of kisses and cuddles. Which sometimes makes him irk with desire to give her. He quickly changes that for fear of admitting the obvious and thinks on Pumpkin, then Ringo, and Henny who he hasn’t heard from. He says out loud, “Henny.” Because that man has been the shadow that he’s never wanted to follow. And without a doubt, coming out here was only agreed because it would give him a chance to be Lee’s protector.

  Darren finds his appetite lost when he thinks of how lame...I mean, really! He chucks down the bowl onto the coffee table and huffs back into the headrest of the sofa, closing his eyes and wondering if his feelings will ever in this lifetime be reciprocated from a woman who can take on any man in a relay race all by her damn self. He admires her independent woman stance, loves her smarts, charisma, good looks...good looks...good looks. Darren opens his eyes and slouches until his head is buried into his face and then gets up when he hears a knock on the door.

  Knock-knock-knock! More a thumping than a knock with the straw that diminishes the sound. Darren drops to his knees and lies flat-down on his stomach. The knocker has already checked the window and he figures it’s best to keep low. He hears a banging on the window that’s a hollow tap-tap-tap-tap and then it stops and starts again, tap-tap-tap-tap on the left side and then it all goes quiet.

  Darren waits for any movement. The light is on, so unfortunately they must know that somebody is home. It’s awfully quiet, but he’s sure the person is moving to the sides of the house and making their way to the back. He explodes onto his feet when he hears a bin that’s been knocked over and then some fidgeting or scratching... he can’t tell! He reckons it’s the rebels! So, he tries to look for any sort of weapon to attack with. On the table, he spots a torch.

  He grabs the torch and finds that there’s a door he hasn’t seen before. It’s closer to the kitchen area at the right-end of the room. It must lead to...he hears a creeeeeaaaaaak behind the door that he hadn’t noticed. Darren makes it a habit of not checking his surroundings properly. He then rushes to get a knife in the kitchen drawer, but he has no time when the door is flung open and a black cat comes dashing in screeching, meeeeeooooooooow and distracts him before he gets a chance to see a wooden stick being held and charged at him!

  He chucks aside the torch and raises both his palms to grab the hefty stick that’s meant to aim for his neck and level him down to the kitchen table to be strangled. He finds he has more power than this person. He adjusts his vision and concentration to see that it’s a young girl whose face is determined to crush the very soul that he owns. She’s grunting, “Urghhhhahurghhhhh” and applying as much pressure as possible which is darn impressive for a kid of her age. But Darren must end this and overpowers her by gradually, inch-by-inch, pushing the stick all the way back with a firm grip until the girl’s back starts to bend.

  He keeps the pressure and girl down there for a bit, he can see she’s tiring. And then with all his might yanks the stick from the girl’s grip. She let’s go reluctantly without choice as she heaved up unwillingly and then is poked directly in the chest 3-times staggering back by Darren and asks him to stop as the force he’s using causes soreness and gives her the feeling that it will poke right through. She’s out of breath. So is Darren.

  “Why ...” she’s gathering it all back. “Why are you ...” Darren still has the stick ready to poke. “Why ... are you ... in my father’s house?” Her chest is rising violently and lowering quickly.

  Darren regains his oxygen quicker. “I was attacked by rebels. He allowed me to stay here.”

  “And where is he now?” Her chest palpitations are returning to normal. Her eyes are shifty and untrusting.

  “He had to go off to some town called Shandi. A man called Pumpkin and his crew were headed there.”

  She finds that story checks out ok. A few more inhales and exhales and her tension breaks from it’s high-horse. “If you’re who I think you're, then you’ll know a girl with dreads?”

  Darren chucks down the stick and leans into her. “Yes! Where is she? Is she ok?”

  The girl’s guard drops. “The same reaction my father would give if I went missing. I think you’re telling me the truth?”

  “I am. I am. Where is Lee?”

  “She is fine. Don’t panic. I think she might be in the station's cell. An old fashion method they have, but she’ll be there now.” -

  “Well, I need to get her out –”

  “Tomorrow.” The girl calms him down with her lowering hand movement. “I’m Angelina. And who are you?”

  “I’m Darren.” But he’s unable to look at her now with his zooming all over the place. “I need to get her out of there.”

  “Yes. But the thing is, if my dad tells you to stay here for the night then he has a good reason. The station cell is fine. And Lee told me just to let you know that she’s there.”

  “Why did she end up there in the first place?”

  “Ah.” Angelina drags off her beanie. Darren can see traits of Hona from the spirited eyes and her discerning impact on personality. A little timider, but that could only be her disguise. She’s a beauty, with her soft skin and oval-shaped face that compliments how small she is overall. Everything is in proportion. And deep down, Darren knows that she and Lee would get on. Something about them both says fighters in a mutual way. “She wondered onto owned land. And that’s a trespassing violation. I should’ve told her, but I curiously scouted after her instead.”

  “You speak well like your father.”

  “I sometimes play like I don’t. It helps me to fit in.”

  “I get you.” Darren is still uneasy about Lee. But it keeps it in a nest. “What’s your take on this Albastor? Hona made it sound like he’s the one in charge of everything that goes down here?”

  “He caretakes. That’s all I know.” Angelina looks around her father’s crib, cleans as she goes. She is tidying the empty plates and half-finished glasses of water. “My father is so messy.” She pops them all into the sink and leaves it there. Then she goes to tidy the coffee table. “I think he needs a bigger place.”

  “I should help you.”

  “No. You should sleep.”

  Darren knows he won’t be doing that tonight. He presses on about this character, “Albastor, does he know everything that goes on here?”

  “Mostly everything passes through him. So yeah. I’ve never met or seen him. My f
ather has told me he’s a man with many secrets. But we all have those. He visits the town once in a while, but I never care to check usually. He has people here who do his dirty deeds. One of them is called Bernard, and he’s the one who placed Lee in that cell. He’s an overseer for Albastor, and a smugly arrogant one at that.”

  “And if anybody was to see him? Can he get somebody off this island? Town? Whatever it is?”

  Angelina answers Darren quizzically, “there are easier ways than going through that man.” Her eyes go crooked, “You should leave the same way you came. Or is that not going to happen? You came for tourism, no?”

  “Yes. But ... we lost the pilot. The name goes by Ringo.”

  “Ringo.” Angelina is slowly bending down to pick up the torch, she flicks the switch on...the LED glows and the spotlight travels all the way up to blind Darren whose palms are now protecting his eyes. “What the hell are you doing?”

  Angelina is side-stepping to switch off the main light. They both stand in brief darkness. But Angelina’s torch is still held up to Darren's eyes, “Where is Ringo?”

  “Wha ... what?” For some reason, Darren feels like the torch is getting brighter to the point of nearly blinding him, “What sort of torch is that?” White speckles start to show up on his lens. The room becomes slightly white.

  “It has almost 180 lumens of light, and it can truly blind if I keep this on you for longer than 8 minutes.” Angelina knows this is not true. But it offers a temporary blindness with each use. A few seconds usually when it is 130 lumens, but this velocity offers a longer lasting effect.

  Darren becomes disorientated. “Darren, where is Ringo? I too am looking for him. He was meant to be here with some visitors.”

  Darren can no longer see a thing. It’s as if the irises have dispersed and vanished like a ghost. It leaves him staggering, blind as a bat and vulnerable to Angelina who he can barely hear. “Lee and I must find him. We need to leave this place to. I promise you, I do not know where he went.”