Crossed Circles

Chang revived as he splashed into the water, still in his survival suit. He grabbed a trailing line attached to the Bubble as his senses refocused. He could see no other Bubbles and began to understand the decision behind the whispering. The wind and waves were thrashing. In the fading light, he detected the forms of Ginger, Mark and Tiffany as they were also dumped out the hatch.

Chang overheard Shuko tell Mark’s corpse, before it dropped into the water, "Just as you requested. Now you are no longer hungry, and neither are we." The hatch cover closed.

Holding onto the line, Chang swam to the bodies. Ginger’s throat had been cut and her legs amputated. Mark had been given the same treatment. The bodies drifted off together as Chang commended them to the sea, until the Day of Resurrection.

He prayed that God would be merciful to those in the Bubble. He also asked God to let him live long enough to inform the authorities, so that justice and punishment would be served.

Chang spent a long night trolling behind the Bubble. Floating on his back, sleeping intermittently between meditation and prayer, he felt refreshed as the light of a calming morning started to break. "Lord, such is your poetry."

There was a sound--waves crashing upon a shore. He wondered if his ears were playing tricks. He could hardly believe it. Chang detached himself from the line that had pulled him through the night and began to swim towards the sound, thanking God.

Land! It never looked or felt so good.

It turned out to be a large island. The Japanese also discovered it and landed. Shuko’s group, which hadn’t drifted far from the flotilla, soon regrouped with the other survivors on the island. They quickly organized a compound.

Chang kept a safe distance from the encampment, which at first utilized the seven Bubbles as living quarters. It took time for a substantial compound of more spatial wooden structures to be constructed. Chang made periodic covert trips to check on the progress of things and to obtain a few necessary supplies, which he took unseen.

He felt protected, living on the other side of the island in a jumbled mass of rocks, trees and brush, remnants of the flood. Chang elected to wait on the Lord’s directive before making any dramatic entrance into the island community. Who was he to question divine wisdom, placing him on the island under the guise of nonexistence? Besides, there would be no justice in the camp where his word accused four of murder, without evidence. His own death would probably result. Waiting for a sign from Heaven seemed to be Chang’s wisest move. He would remain patient and invisible.

The camp had a compliment of thirty-three adults. The Japanese took charge. Most of the non-Japanese were women. No children survived. Isaac, Chang’s employer, was among the survivors.

Several damaged boats were discovered near the camp and two Japanese men were attempting to make one of them seaworthy. The compound buzzed with activity.

The castaways discovered that one of the Bubbles had been completely filled with supplies, apparently to make additional room on the yacht for the guests during the voyage. The potential for the group to survive on the island had a direct linkage to the stored food. Too bad the survivors didn’t know sooner, thought Chang. All the needless suffering for want of a placard and a cooperative door latch mechanism. The Bubble that was filled with supplies was the one that refused to be opened, while afloat.

Chang found indications that several bears roamed the island. One, a half-starved large bruin, approached the Japanese camp. The men cornered and wounded the animal. Before the bear died, it escaped the hunters only to be found by Chang.

Using bear brains, smoke and oak bark, Chang tanned the hide with its hair intact. He fashioned the paws into two pairs of slippers. Chang decided that if he left any evidence for the Japanese, it would be signs of the bear. Chang did not eat red meat, so he placed the wild flesh where one of the other bruins could benefit from the sacrifice of one of their own. He kept some of the fat for making soap.

Chang felt justified in taking his fair share of rations from the camp. The supplies were, after all, for survivors of the shipwreck. Most of what he ate, however, came from the island’s natural store. But, on occasion, his sweet tooth had to be satisfied by a ration cookie. When the camp discovered provisions to be missing, the only clues were of a phantom bear, which many of the Japanese embraced as spiritual. A few even left food at a small shrine within the camp as an offering to appease the animal’s spirit.

The bear conjured up visions of revenge and malevolence. Everyone stayed near the camp except when gathering wood, which they did under the protection of an armed escort. Spears and knives were the extent of their weaponry. Their attempts at fashioning long bows became thwarted by the lack of an appropriate bowstring material. Still, what power they had, dispatched the previous owner of his bear-shoes. So, consistent with Chang’s nature, he considered every visit to the compound to be a serious matter.

Chang focused his thoughts back to the present. It was time. He decided to visit the shrine for the cookie offerings. The sentry was systematic and predictable. The barricade they raised since his last visit would prove useless. An overhanging tree branch insured unencumbered access. Besides, there were still many holes in the wall through which a bear could easily move. Many options existed for Chang, as usual.

Chang entered and exited without a sound. Years of monastic training in kung fu had developed his sense of movement. The bear’s spirit had made another visit and, for the moment, no one was the wiser.

His memory of the path back to his hideaway directed unhindered progress through the darkness. The other side of the island provided safety and rest. In the morning, Chang would continue to repair his own salvaged boat, followed by breakfast and a sweet ration cookie.