He fell

Somelsewhere

His guts clenched when he dropped. Water erupted around him and the cold bite of it cut through his wetsuit and instantly chilled him.

He kicked, his head broke the surface, and he blinked back the salt water.

Raging wind tore at the water surface. A waterspout boiled away on one side while the cries of humans came billowing towards him on the wind.

As the wind eased to a fresh and steady breeze the mist and haze ripped from the sea fell back and he saw where he had washed up.

‘Lyttleton,’ he exclaimed. ‘I made it back. Home.’

He twisted his body around.

‘Maggie,’ he shouted. ‘Maggie?’

He remembered her hand held tight in his when the portal opened, and then somewhere in the vertigo of the swinging movement they had lost a grip on one another.

‘Maggie,’ he shouted.

A RIB powered towards him. The Rigid Inflatable Boat pulled up alongside.

‘Ah you okay Peter?’

He looked up into the familiar face of his coach, Franco. ‘Sure. I guess.’

‘Where’s your Starling?’

‘The Jupiter?’

‘Are you sure you’re okay? Let me get you onboard.’

Then he remembered. ‘Sarah? I saw her in Tango. She…’

‘You’re one of the last to come in. We’ll do a head count on shore.’

But Sarah had not come back to land. The club mounted search and rescue. The Coast Guard went over the entire harbour, and even sent divers down near where he had last seen her.

But Sarah and her small orange Optimist had gone.

He reckoned he knew where.

As he lay in bed that night he went over all that had happened to him.

The simple explanation that he had dreamed it all failed to explain his battered and torn wetsuit and his long bleached and tangled hair. No one had made any comment at the club. The focus on finding Sarah kept him out of the light once they had grilled him for all he could remember of his encounter.

To say anything of Eoth, or what had happened to The Jupiter, would not help bring her back. That he knew she lived, somewhere else, would sound absurd, and only make things worse.

And Uncle Jeff. He hadn’t even come home that night. Not that he cared too much. He had raided the fridge, wolfed down a liter of hokey pokey ice cream, and crashed in his bed. He stared now at the black pirate flag hung on his wall.

‘I met real pirates. And alien blackbirders. I flew a freaking sailboat in the air in the company of furry manta rays.’

He sang to himself then.

‘Phazhaqava shaqarun phazhaqava shaqarun.

Nav vatariq zarazaru.

Tharva vayuqava, zhala thavuqarana.

Vatariq falaq tarun vazhara.’

He sighed. ‘We kiss and go, we kiss then go.’ The meaning of the Thaluk words, and the poetic nature of them still resonated. He wiped tear from his eyes.

‘That’s what I’ve done. I’ve come and gone.

Not to linger but remembering.

‘Damn it.’

He couldn’t sleep.

The time’s all wrong. Dark on Eoth. A full moon.

The door to the caravan squeaked when he opened it. He padded through the dew laden grass and stared into the sky. The moon peeked from behind a bank of clouds that drifted free of the light.

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‘A full moon,’ he breathed.

But its light did not dazzle like the moon of Eoth. The cinder dark colour, and the blacker patches made up the face of the moon again.

‘The same as the moon in the temple,’ he said. ‘How?’

He turned his back to it and looked at his dim barely seen shadow on the grass. A light blinked just out of his vision and he stared at it again.

.--- -.. .--- -.. .--- -..

‘J-D J-D…’ He jaw dropped. ‘No way. Maggie?’

He pulled on some jeans and a jacket and ran towards the lights.

.--- -.. ... --- ... .--- -.. ... --- ...

J-D S-O-S J-D S-O-S.

‘Jupiter Drake, Help me,’ he read aloud.

He cut through one property, then across a road, and up the path to the house on the promontory where he had seen the flashes.

No lights shone out when he walked around the house, no sound came from the within. It looked like a house where everyone slept.

He stood at the door, his hand poised to knock.

I can’t. They’ll think I’m crazy.

‘I’ll come back tomorrow,’ he said under his breath.

Feeling foolish he wound his way back the long way. When he made it to his caravan he stared at the dark house.

I didn’t imagine it. I know I didn’t.

It wasn’t until he had climbed back into his bed that the flashes started up agin.

-.. --- -. - .-.. . .- ...- . . --- - .... ... - .- -.--

‘D-O-N-T L-E-A-V-W E-O-T-H S-T-A-Y

-- ... -- ... -- ...

‘M-S M-S M-S’

‘Don’t leave Eoth Stay. Maggie Seddon,’

He stared at the house until the lights stopped flashing. He wanted to go to them, but the foolish feeling if his fist poised to knock kept him under this quilt.

Eventually he drifted off to sleep. He did not dream.

He forgot to go to school the next day. He slept late. The bright heat of noon woke him in a sweat.

Determined to get to the bottom of the messages he ran back to the house. He referred to the photo of the old white vila he had taken from Jeff’s property.

‘Must be the right house,’ he said.

He knocked on the door and heard footsteps echo on the wooden floor of the hall.

The woman that answered the door was not Maggie. Fifty or sixty years old, she had none of the tall grace Maggie possessed.

‘I’m looking for Maggs. Maggie. Is she here?’

The woman stared at him. ‘And who are you?’

‘I’m Jupiter.’ He stopped and gathered his breath again. ‘Peter Drake.’

‘Why are you looking for Mrs Warren?’

‘Oh, I guess I have the wrong house.’ Peter turned to go. Then stopped. ‘Her last name was Seddon.’

‘That was a long time ago,’ the woman said.

‘Who are you?’

‘I’m her niece. Jo Seddon.’

He stared at her. ‘How old is Maggie?’

‘Nearly one hundred. 98 on her next birthday.’

He took a step back, then took in a deep breath. ‘Can I see her?’

‘I don’t think that is a very good idea. How do you even know her?’

He smiled. ‘She’s my friend. My very best friend.’

‘I don’t see…’

‘It can’t hurt can it?’ he pleaded. ‘I mean. She’d like a visitor wouldn’t she?’

Jo Seddon shook her head. ‘She does not take much in these days,’ She paused then smiled. ‘I suppose it would be alright.’

He walked down the dark hallway. He steps quiet on the floor as the woman clopped her way towards the room at the end.

They entered and a stale smell filled the air. Jo opened a window.

On the wall next to the bed hung a lurid painting of a beach scene. A coconut palm leaned towards a bright blue sea where a cartoonish canoe had been pulled up.

A small person lay under a sheet and blanket, their back to the door.

‘Margaret. There’s someone to see you. A young man.’

The woman moaned but did not move. The curtains blew in the wind and the light shifted across the bed.

‘I don’t think this is a good idea Peter.’

The shape on the bed moved. The body drifted from its side onto the back.

A shadow of a person lay on the pillow. Hollowed cheeks with sunken eyes. Her gaze drifted towards him

And she smiled.

‘Jupiter,’ she breathed out.

‘She gets like this sometimes. Mumbled strange words and sounds. It’s quite distressing. Come. I’ll make you a cup of tea.’

He kneeled next to the old woman.

‘Maggs. I’m here,’ he said. Soft and quiet as if afraid to break something.

‘I hoped…’ she took a ragged breath. Tears welled in her red rimmed eyes.

‘I think that’s enough…’ Jo said.

‘Leave us,’ said Maggie. ‘This young man has come to call.’

He looked down. Maggie’s boney hand had taken hold of the niho taniwha pendent that lay around his neck. She sighed then began to sing

We kiss and go and kiss then go.

Not to linger but remembering.

Days of heat, the night's cool flow,

Water's touch still trembling

Jupiter grinned then, blinked back tears as they sang together

Phazhaqava shaqarun phazhaqava shaqarun.

Nav vatariq zarazaru.

Tharva vayuqava, zhala thavuqarana.

Vatariq falaq tarun vazhara.

Maggie’s hand fell from the pendent and she took a shuddering breath and closed her eyes. Fearful that it was her last Jupiter took the pendent from around his neck and pressed it into her hand. Then he noticed.

‘The zharaqsa crystal. It’s not on the pendent,’ he said.

Jupiter turned over the tooth shaped carving. And there, in a swirl of brilliant blue, he saw the zharaqsa fused into the carving as if had always been there.

Maggie hand tightened on the pendent and Jupiter placed his hand on hers. The paper thin sick seemed almost too delicate to touch. He felt her cool hand and warmed it with his own.

‘I looked for you. But could not find you,’ Maggie said.

‘I guess I’ve only lived in Lyttleton for a short time. Since my grandbam got sick. We didn’t think to swap addresses.’

‘Don’t leave Eoth. We belong there.’

He didn’t know what to say, except the truth. ‘We both returned home.’

‘I know.’ Maggie’s voice steadied. ‘I tried to tell you before.’

‘I didn’t know morse code,’ he said. ‘I do now.’

‘My life ended when I came back. My plans. My foolish plans.’

Her hand slipped towards the ground and he caught the pendent. Somehow the pendent helped her, but drained her as well.

‘What language are you speaking?’ Maggie’s niece said.

‘I guess it’s just something we made up,’ he said.

Maggie appeared to be sleeping. He brushed a lock of hair from her forehead.

‘I’ll have that cup of tea if you still making it,’ he said.

‘I’ll bring it in to you.’

He stayed there the rest of the day, remembering the vibrant alive young woman. How she had taken him into her arms and danced with him on the deck of a flying sailing ship, teasing him with the dance to go with the song and dance. But he knew she meant it for something more.

‘I wish I had not stepped away.’ And he remembered then Ajiro’s haiku.

Comrades advance

And warriors bloomed

I stepped away

‘So this is what it’s like to be separated from your life?’ he said.

I loved you Jupiter. My first and only love.

Maggie gazed at him but he could not be sure she had spoken. The niho taniwha pendent hung heavy around his neck as he sat next to her.

The sun set, full moon high, Maggie died, in the night.