Island of Bones(56)

Frank came out of the water, starting up the rise toward the dock. The man swung the rifle around, aiming it at Frank’s chest. Frank froze. He felt a clutch in his gut but it wasn’t from fear.

“Emilio,” he said quietly, “I’m your brother, for God’s sake.”

“You have no brothers here. You have no family here. Not anymore.”

Frank took another step. “I have nowhere else to go. You know that. You must have seen the papers.”

“I’ve read them,” Emilio said. “There was a picture of the ring. How did they get it?”

Frank shook his head slowly. “My daughter turned it in.”

“Your daughter? What did you do to her to cause her to hate you so much?”

“Don’t talk to me about daughters, Emilio.”

Emilio snapped the lever on the rifle. “Then go now. Leave.”

Frank shook his head. “I won’t go. I want to talk to the others. I want to talk to —-”

“No!” Emilio yelled. “The police will come here after you. Don’t you know that? You made your choice when you left. We don’t want you here.”

Frank took a few more steps. “Emilio,” he said carefully, his eyes locked on his brother’s face. “I know you still blame me. But Sophie didn’t love you, she —-”

Emilio lifted the rifle, his finger on the trigger. “I said go!”

Frank came closer.

“I’ll shoot you!” Emilio shouted.

Frank lunged for the rifle, grabbing the barrel. Emilio twisted away, falling against the mangrove roots.

Frank wrenched the rifle from his hands, but before he could get away, Emilio grabbed his legs, pulling him to the ground.

Emilio’s hands wrapped around Frank’s throat. Frank tried to wedge the rifle between himself and Emilio’s chest, but he couldn’t get a breath, couldn’t find the strength to do it.

“Emilio, stop,” Frank gasped.

Emilio pulled Frank forward then slammed his head back against the tree. A split second of blackness, and then a sudden surge of adrenaline ripped through Frank’s body. He jammed the rifle butt down hard against Emilio’s head.

Frank felt Emilio’s hands fall away from his neck, and then the weight of Emilio’s body sent him stumbling backward. Frank thrust out a hand to brace himself as he fell hard back against the mangrove roots and into the shallow water.

He sat up, grabbing at his throat, gagging and gulping in air. He saw the rifle and grabbed it with a shaking hand. It took a few seconds for him to realize that Emilio had not moved. He was lying face down, draped over the roots. Frank grabbed him and rolled him over. Emilio’s eyes were open.

No...

Frank touched Emilio’s throat. He felt nothing.

“No,” he said, his fingers groping for a pulse. “Oh, God, no.”

He pulled Emilio’s limp body off the mangrove roots, laying it down in the mud, and pressed his ear to the chest. Nothing. With a cry, Frank leaned back and flung the rifle into the water.

“Emilio?”

Someone was calling from beyond the trees, a woman. He knew her voice immediately.

Frank looked up. He scrambled to his feet and stumbled up the incline through the trees. When the woman saw him, she stopped in the path.

“Emilio?”

Frank came forward. It was almost dark now and he couldn’t see her. Just her small black form and the white aureole of her hair. Tiny...she was so tiny.

He went closer so he could see her. Her face had been stored in his mind for decades, put there by his heart for safekeeping, to be taken out only when his loneliness overwhelmed him. Her face was there, in the archive of memory, with all the other images and experiences of this place. But he could see now that his memory had been unreliable. She was different. Her skin, once so smooth and white, was now yellowed and crinkled like old parchment. Her eyes, which once had the dark shine of onyx, were now cloudy. She was old.

He felt something tear, deep inside his chest.

“Mama,” he said softly.

She took a step back, putting a hand on her chest.

“It’s me, Mama,” he said “it’s Frank. Francisco.”

She wavered slightly and he stepped forward, ready to catch her if she fell.

“Francisco,” she whispered. “Francisco.” She lifted her hands, cupping his face.

“How? Why are you —-” She stopped. “So many years. I can’t believe you came back.”

Her hands were warm against his cheeks and Frank closed his eyes. Her touch, that had not changed. It was exactly as he remembered it.

“How did you get here?” she asked softly.

“I jumped...” He took her hands in his and looked down into her face. “It doesn’t matter.”