In Between Frames Page 8

  Sam swallowed, and tightened her stomach muscles to contain the feeling of butterflies she was feeling. Aaron and Miles were making their way up, leaning into the side of the rock face. She copied them, trying to ignore how quickly she was rising above the beach and how much space there was around her, and how precariously empty it all seemed. It was a little easier to do when she turned her thoughts to the fact that Mabel had made it up without falling.

  As she neared the top, Miles leaned over to give her a hand, because the rock side they’d been leaning into was disappearing. “You did it,” he said, encouragingly, as she collapsed on the ground behind him, letting her knees turn watery with the release of the fear she’d been repressing for the last few minutes. Miles and Aaron helped Jon up—though in his case, it was because he was red-faced, sweating profusely, and breathing like a freight train.

  “Everybody okay?” Miles asked. He and Aaron were the only ones who seemed none the worse for the climb. “I used to set up shoots in far more dangerous situations,” he told Sam. “Once I duct-taped myself into a tree for three hours.”

  “Do you ever get over it?” she asked. “Your fear, I mean?”

  Miles shrugged. “You get better at appreciating what’s solid,” he said.

  They waited for Jon to get his breathing under control without talking, taking in the landscape—shrubby, rocky, but covered with thick mats of plants interspersed with openings of knee-high grass and empty plots of gravel. Aaron whistled. “Too wild for me,” he said.

  Jon said something; Aaron threw his hands up, and stomped off. “He’s afraid of snakes,” Sam told Miles.

  But Jon didn’t harangue Aaron. Instead, he stomped off in another direction. Presently, both men returned, each carrying a large stick. Aaron had taken out his pocket knife and was expertly sharpening the end of his to a point. “Protection,” he said. “Poison snake in place like this. Very common.”

  Sam felt her eyes grow wide at the thought. She’d had no idea that poisonous snakes lived in Europe. And here she was, sending her daughter out to play in the wooded patch and on the beach—whatever minor miracles had kept Mabel safe up until now, Sam said a silent prayer that they would continue. Just until now, and I swear, I’ll never take her safety for granted again, she thought.

  Miles had drifted away, but he, too, returned, with two sticks. He handed on to her. “Stab the ground in front of you when you walk,” he told her.

  “Why are they sharpening theirs?” Sam asked, watching Jon take Aaron’s knife and cut his stick to a point, too.

  “Probably to kill the snake,” Miles said.

  “Kill?” She was getting nauseated just thinking of snakes, and the risks she had taken with Mabel—the idea of having to kill one filled her with a queasy dread.

  “In my experience, you don’t have to kill them,” Miles said. “Bang on the ground, and they slither away. Some people think the only good snake is a dead one,” he added, tilting his head at Jon and Aaron. “I assume they have their reasons.”

  They had a brief discussion about how to search. Miles produced two whistles from two separate pockets (“Why didn’t you keep them together?” Sam asked. “Because I didn’t know I had them.”), cheap, plastic things that parents put in kids’ party gift bags for the express purpose of annoying the everloving fuck out of the other parents. He gave one to Jon and Aaron, saying, “Blow a short tweet—“ he demonstrated, “—every minute, and long ones if you find them.”

  Jon gave his whistle a tweet, surprising himself at how loud and shrill it could be. But it was a sensible plan, and they parted ways, Jon and Aaron, Sam and Miles, scanning the area for signs of Mabel and Stephan, banging their sticks on the ground to terrorize any snakes out of their way. There was no trace of them. It was going to be a long day.

  ~~~

  Miles had never been this thirsty before. He and Sam had trekked thus far in silence, so he assumed that she, too, felt the claws of thirst scratching at her throat. It was maddening, this sensation of wanting to take a drink but there being nothing around. He focused on blowing the whistle every minute—Jon and Aaron were somewhere to the left of them—but as the day dragged on he began to resent the loss of moisture teach tweet represented, and began to fantasize about pools of cool water, drinking it, feeling it run down his parched throat.

  They came upon some boulders lying in the field, and without a word, Miles clambered to the top of the largest one, while Sam silently vomited. That worried him. If they didn’t find them soon, they’d have to call for help for her. He saw Jon and Aaron poking and stabbing away in the distance. A little to the right of them, a large shrub rustled suspiciously, given that there was no breeze. Miles could imagine that there might be an opening in the foliage of the small tree or large shrub, and that there might be a decent amount of space under it. There was an outline of something vaguely human in the branches. It was as good a shot as any.

  “I think I see her,” he tried to say. His tongue felt furry, and he wasn’t sure Sam understood him. But he put the whistle to his lips and blew for all his worth. Jon and Aaron turned around, and he pointed to the tree. After some wild gesticulating, Jon saw what Miles did, and his whistle, too, began cutting the air with its thin screech.

  “Come on, Sam,” Miles whispered. “We’ve found her. She’s not far, just a little father.”

  Sam nodded. She was so grim she could murder death, but Miles knew then that she would be all right. They’d found Mabel and Stephan, they could probably justify calling a med-evac for one of them—they’d both be dehydrated, to the very least, at least if Miles’s condition was anything to go by. One of them probably sprained an ankle, or something. They could hear Jon and Aaron in the distance, their voices hard and angry—everything was going to be all right.

  But as they approached the tree, he had the distinct sensation that there was something wrong. Aaron was standing in the shade of the tree, and while they couldn’t read his face from where they were, it was obvious that he was not celebrating anything. As they drew closer, a long, agonizing howl came from the shrub. They began to fear the worst as they approached, which was only confirmed as they approached Aaron. “No,” Aaron said to them. “Don’t.”

  A sob broke out from Sam, and she brushed past him. There was a shriek, followed by, “Mummy!” and Miles came as close to dying of relief as a living man could. “God damn it, why did you tell us not to?” he asked Aaron, unsure whether to be irritated or relieved that Mabel was alive. .

  “Stephan,” Aaron said, quietly. He drew a finger across his throat.

  Miles felt a pang of shock, and, much to his surprise, genuine grief. It never occurred to him that Mabel might live while Stephan would die. Stephan looked to be in his mid-twenties, strong as an ox—how could he possibly die? “What happened?” Miles asked.

  “Snake,” Aaron said. “Little girl told us. I call helicopter for help, but Stephan…” He shook his head.

  As if on cue, Sam emerged from the brush, carrying a crying Mabel and chugging a bottle of water. She set Mabel down and tossed a bottle to Miles. He cracked it open and drank down the warm, plastic-tasting water, draining the bottle without once removing his lips from it. It felt like heaven.

  “What happened to Stephan?” Miles asked, as soon as his tongue seemed to go back to its usual size.

  Mabel, hiccupping, said, “A snake bit him. He thought he would be all right, but he wasn’t—and—“ and the little girl burst into tears again.

  “It’s not your fault,” Sam said, gently.

  Jon came out last, tears streaming down his reddened face. “My son,” he said, and began weeping. Aaron hugged him, and so did Sam. Miles joined them after an awkward moment. They retreated into the shade of the brush.

  “He said you told him I could go with him on a boat ride,” Mabel said, to Sam. “So we went on the boat, and he said we were going to have a really big adventure together, and that we’d go to a place so secret that nobody could find us, an
d that we could have a real adventure like the explorers did. We got out of the boat, and then we walked here, carrying all of the stuff, and then he was going to set up the tent and the sleeping bags when he got bitten. He—he said—“

  She started crying again, but before Sam could tell her she didn’t have to continue, Mabel plowed ahead, sniffling and sobbing all the while. “He said he was fine at first, but then a little later he wasn’t fine, and then he told me I had to be brave and asked me to hold his hand. And he asked me to stay with him, and then he died, so I stayed with him, but it was so scary—“

  “Shush, Mabel,” Sam whispered. “It wasn’t your fault.”

  “But if I hadn’t wanted to go with him on his adventure—“

  “Little girl,” Jon said, squatting to look her in the eye. Then he hugged her, his face wet and streaked with tears, and cried. “He had friend with him.”

  Somehow, those words managed to soothe her in a way that all of Sam’s reassurances couldn’t. But Sam didn’t snap at Jon when he stood back up. She hugged him, instead—and, much to the surprise of Miles and Aaron, he hugged her back. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I’m sorry it all had to end like this.”

  In the distance, they could hear the steady thumping of a Med-evac cutting through the still, hot air. Help was on the way. “He had a friend with him at the very end,” Sam was whispering to Jon, as they watched the chopper approach. “Take comfort in that.”

  Mabel was crying now, too. “I want him to come back, Mummy,” she said, crying.

  Then the chopper landed, and conversation became impossible. The medics brought Stephan’s body out from the brush, already encased in a bodybag, and as one loaded the body, the second began talking to Sam and Jon. Miles watched Sam the female medic pull out a stethoscope, and squeeze her eyes shut as she listened, or tried to listen, for Jon’s heart. “Some health problem,” Aaron told Miles. “Or maybe not. With doctors, you never know, eh?”

  Finally her eyes snapped open, a decision made. “We’re heading for Athens,” she said. She came over to where Miles and Aaron were waiting. “We’ll be taking them to the Giorgios Hospital complex. It doesn’t seem like they’re in too bad of a condition,” she said, indicating Sam and her daughter. “But for them, it’s probably better to be certain, and for him, I’m afraid he might have suffered something worse.”

  “Will he be okay?” Miles asked.

  She shrugged. “That’s what we need to find out,” she said. “You will have to go to Athens to see them. There’s no room in the helicopter.”

  She made a signal to the pilot, and together they all got into the body of the helicopter. Miles and Aaron watched as it lifted off, thwack-thwack-ing quickly towards Athens. Aaron sighed. “You never think that this should happen,” he said, to nobody in particular.

  They were alone, in an empty field. Miles went into the brush, for the first time, to see if there was more water for the long walk back. There was—Stephan had apparently camped here before. There were jerry cans of water, cans of food, and what looked like a few mess kits from the Second World War. There were also, tucked against the tree trunk, a case filled of beer, and two field cots were nestled in the tiny space, side-by-side. On the other side—outside the “back door”—there was a bare plot of earth, and a circular patch of ashes. It would have been nice to camp here, Miles thought. No wonder he was able to convince Mabel to come away with him. And it looked like he’d stocked away enough beer for all of them. If there hadn’t been a snake, they probably all would have been having some kind of party.

  Oh, who are you kidding? The way Sam looked during their trek out here, she would probably have killed him on sight with the force of her anger. Or would she have? Miles liked to think that she would have been so relieved that Mabel was all right, that she would have forgiven Stephan, and then they’d all clink beers and someone would shoot a goat (not that he’d seen any goats, but in the myths there was always a goat around to kill) and they’d have a barbecue and then they’d all go back on Aaron’s boat. That was what was supposed to happen, and the more Miles picture it in his head, the more vivid it seemed. He and Stephan would even become friends, and they’d make him promise to come visit again—

  It was only then that grief overwhelmed him, not for the loss of Stephan, per se, but for the loss of possibilities in his and Sam’s life. There had been the possibility of so much happiness, and now there would be only grief for everybody who ever thought of Stephan. He’d been walking alongside Aaron for a while, stabbing the ground before him dutifully with his stick, but now he had to sit down. Aaron turned to look at him, and said nothing when he started to sniffle, merely tilted his head and watched him as he cried. At long last, he said, “If you cry so much, you need to drink more.”

  For some reason this struck Miles as insanely hilarious, and he started laughing hysterically. He was vaguely aware that this was due to the heat, and his dehydration, which should have bothered him, but all he could do was laugh because it was so. Damn. Funny. Finally, Aaron slapped him, hard, and just as abruptly, the laughter left him, and he and Aaron continued on back to the shore, Miles a bit shamefaced and Aaron as stoic as ever. They didn’t say anything to each other as Aaron piloted the boat back to Loutraki. When Miles disembarked, Aaron shook his hand. “Wish them good for me,” Aaron said.

  “You could come with me,” Miles said.

  Aaron shook his head. “You don’t need me now,” he said.

  Miles walked back to his rental car. He’d received a ticket for overstaying in the parking space, but they hadn’t put a boot on the wheels, and it was late in the day so the police station was closed. As he pulled out and pointed the car in the direction of Athens, the ticket fluttered away. He knew he should probably take care of that, but he was having a hard time mustering the guilt required to make him go to the police station. Guilt was too complicated a way to end a day like this, a day of black and white, life and death, joy and grief.

  ~~~

  When he got to Athens, he first booked an extra night in his hotel and returned the rental car, opting for a taxi to get him to the hospital. He should have made reservations for a new flight out of Athens, Once there, the nurse at the front desk helped him locate Sam and Mabel—they were in their last hour of observation, she said, before they could be discharged. They were in the general ward. Visiting hours were technically over, she said, but if he asked nicely they would probably let him in with her for the last hour. Miles also asked about Jon. “In the cardiac wing,” the nurse said, frowning. “No visitors allowed at this hour.”

  Miles was relieved to see that the hospital gift shop—strange, how hospitals everywhere all seemed to be the same—sold small bouquets, and Miles bought one and had it sent to Jon. He had to ask the clerk to help him write, “My condolences for your loss,” on it, but he signed the card himself. It was the least he could do, he decided. Then he went to see Sam.

  She was in a room with three other patients, an intravenous line taped to her arm and Mabel snuggled in her bed. On the tray table, the remains of a hospital dinner—a pile of brownish-green sludge that might have been a either a plant or an animal at some point—sat, untouched. They were watching TV, or at least trying to. Mabel kept nodding off, while Sam kept a close guard on her daughter. When they saw him, they both smiled.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Hey,” Sam said. “We’ll be let out soon.”

  “I know,” he said. “It’s the only reason why the nurses allowed me to be here at all.”

  “Thanks for coming,” she said.

  “It was the least I could do.”

  They watched the TV for a while, but Miles couldn’t make heads or tails of what Spongebob was doing. “Jon is in the cardiac unit,” Miles said, after a moment.

  Sam nodded. “He had a heart attack on the way here,” she said. “Luckily the medics were already suspicious so the damage shouldn’t be too bad. But still…” She broke off, visibly shaken. “I ho
pe he’s all right.”

  “I sent him flowers,” Miles offered.

  “That’s good of you.” She leaned back against the pillow, and then suddenly sat up again. “Miles, what if he dies? Then I’ll have killed both him and Stephan—“

  “Stop,” he said. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead: There was nothing you could have done. “You haven’t killed anyone,” he said.

  “If I’d been more clear about my intentions not to date him--

  “He made his own choice,” he said, gently, taking her hand.

  She withdrew it, and then replaced it. “You’re so much like a Yank,” she said. “You believe everybody makes their own way in this world. No wonder Americans have such a hard time with love.”

  “What, you mean to say we don’t suffer the consequences of our decisions?” he asked playfully.

  But she wasn’t playing around when she answered, “No, only that our decisions aren’t always our own.”