What Happened In Paradise?

Second Visit: Whispers on the Winds of the Island

“What do you know?” Maxwell asks Detective Guber.

“You would not believe me if I told you.” Detective Guber rolls to one side, grips the door jamb, then clambers to his feet.

“Try me. I’ve gotten accustomed to crazy.” Maxwell jumps up; the light kisses Detective Guber’s bald spot. His skin appears blue; enough oxygen isn’t reaching his head. Some of it must be cutting the journey short, stopping at his neck where his collar is a bit too tight.

“Is it crazy?” Detective Guber runs his index finger between the space between the door and its jamb. The tips of his fingers also appear blue. “I have been doing this so long. I know that sometimes the truth does not make sense…things do not have to make sense to be true, Max…Maxwell.”

There are so many things that currently don’t make sense to Maxwell.

“I will tell you this, Maxwell. I’ve seen things…”

Maxwell leans in, waiting for Detective Guber to continue. The Detective’s eyes rove the room as if the memories he’s trying to conjure up, are lodged in a corner of the room.

“I had a case, a very long time ago.” Detective Guber walks over to the bed, sits on the edge. “A woman was attacked in her home... We responded as quickly as we could, but when we found her, she was already dead. Poisoned.”

“Oh no.” Maxwell sweeps curls from his eyes, tucks them behind his ear; they don’t make it all the way. They fall back to his eyes.

“Do not worry. This is a happy ending. Well…it is as happy as we could have hoped for.”

“How could it be a happy ending, if she died?”

“She did not stay dead.”

“What do you mean?”

“Some sort of healer…she intervened. Begged us to let her see the woman. It went against protocol, but what could have been worse than what had already happened?”

“So?”

“We let her have access to the woman.” Detective Guber stares at the wall. “We watched. We saw everything that happened. We still couldn’t believe it. The woman came back to life.”

“What?”

Detective Guber nods. “Alive. She came back to life.”

“But that’s not possible. Maybe she wasn’t dead yet.”

Detective Guber rises from the bed, walks over to the door. “Believe what you will. I know what I saw. That woman came back to life. She was never the same after that. But she came back. She was alive and alive is always better than dead.”

Maxwell watches Detective Guber’s broad back as he saunters through the door. Belatedly, he realizes he still hasn’t gathered any of Detective Guber’s knowledge.

“But what did you learn?” Maxwell asks. “About this place?” Maxwell lifts his hands to the ceiling then spreads them wide. “This plantation…this island.”

“It is late. Maybe another time.”

Detective Guber is through the door; Maxwell has more questions; he won’t be able to sleep until they’re answered. He runs to the door, leans out, grasping the frame to balance his weight. “I’m trying to locate two soldiers. They were here earlier.”

“Okay?”

“Maybe you can help.”

Detective Guber nods. “Maybe.”

“A soldier by the name of Marfus….And…And the soldier that checked me in. She said she remembers me. “

Detective Guber purses his lips.

“If she remembers me from my last trip, maybe she will be able to fill in some of the blanks.”

Detective Guber nods again. “Hmmm. That would be a start.”

“Tall, thin, tan skin. Complexion a little fairer than mine.”

“I will look into it.”

“And I think I’ll revisit the house I stumbled upon. I found it after…” Maxwell studies his feet. It seems silly now that he’d run from Detective Guber. “It’s in the bushes. I found it after I left you.”

Detective Guber’s face goes white. “I do not think that is a good idea. That woman is no good.” He scratches his bald spot. “That is what they say.”

***

Maxwell returns to the beach, habouring hope that he will see Marfus again. Marfus seems to be the only WIC soldier that is eager to oblige him; Maxwell can start with him. The taxi he takes parks next to other taxis that are idling, waiting for beachgoers to request a ride. The spot where the taxis are parked is a short walk away from where Marfus had dropped him off. Maxwell interrogates the drivers: Were they there on such a day? Did they happen to see the military vehicle and the soldier driving it? They were there. They all get rigid when Maxwell asks about the military vehicle; no one admits to having seen Marfus, or any other WIC soldiers on that day.

Next, Maxwell walks a few paces up the road to the men and women selling sugarcane, water, juice, and snacks out of the trunks of their vehicles. They too tense at the question; they too can’t recall seeing the vehicle or soldier. Maxwell resigns, walks over to the warm, yellow sand. Before long, he is back at the solitary palm. This time he doesn’t sit; he heads straight for the path and follows it inland. It’s not long before he senses the presence of someone lurking in the bush.

“Who’s there?” Maxwell spins on his heels, peers into the trees in the direction of where he had heard the sound. Nothing. Maxwell continues the walk. He stops; his heart is pounding. This time he doesn’t turn. Fear is misleading him; there’s no need for him to look into the trees and convince himself that he’s alone. He’s being followed, and the person…or thing…has closed in on him. Maxwell calculates his next move. Can he run to the house? Will he make it? Should he run into the bushes instead? Bobbing and weaving through trees. Hopefully, there is another path that leads to the beach.

“I can hear you?” Maxwell says. “I’m not from around here.” He had heard somewhere that at some places on the island, tourists are safer than locals. He’s hoping this is one of those places. “I won’t harm you?” Harm who? What is he talking about? If anyone has the upper hand, it has to be the person who’s hiding in wait…rather, stealthily slinking along, waiting on the perfect moment to pounce. “I’ll…I’ll just go back to the beach.”

“We cannot allow you to do that?” A young man emerges from the shadow of a tree; he twists around shrubs and tree trunks on his way to the path in front of Maxwell. Limbs lean…too lean, shoulders and elbows appearing as knobs on his limbs. Cheekbones exceptionally high…or is his face drawn? Is the flesh too thin? Nonexistent?

“We have plans for you?”

We. Maxwell rotates - three-sixty degrees on his heels. The rustling all around him now an unbearable echo. “I’m…I’m…” He’s what? “I’m just headed to the old lady’s house….She’s…she’s expecting me.” Why did he lie? And why did he tell that lie?

“No, she is not.”

That same greedy smile…This boy…The driver….And…Boom! Maxwell screams when he hears the explosion. He rubs his head, pulls his fingers away, inspects them. He looks down, rubs his chest, belly, legs. He hasn’t been hit. He inspects the boy’s hands; no gun. All his friends have left the safety of their trees. They’re staring at him. Equally intrigued. Equally terrified.

“The next time I fire…”

Detective Guber!

“It won’t be in the air.”

The boys all scurry back into the bushes.

Maxwell exhales, his shoulders fall forward. “Man am I happy to see you?”

“Good thing I had the bright idea to follow you.”

“Yea.” Maxwell regulates his breathing. “Very bright idea.”

“Come.” Detective Guber motions for Maxwell to follow him down the path. “Let us go back.”

When they’re on the beach and at a considerable distance from the path, Maxwell turns to Detective Guber. “Why were you following me? I’m…” Maxwell rubs the back of his neck. “I’m very grateful that you did, but why were you following me? I thought you no longer suspected me.”

“I do not. But I had a feeling that you would not listen.”

“And on the off chance that you were wrong about me…”

“You would have led me to evidence. Whether or not you realize it, I think you are returning to places that mean something to this case.”

“Sounds like you’re not as sure of my innocence as you had implied.”

“I’m sure.”

“You have doubts…Well, I’m glad your doubts led you to save my life.”