Here's my first draft for the fall 2022 edition. I'm looking forward to re-reading it and making changes/tightening it up.
Maybe the couple had spread a blanket out on the small deck of the boat. The woman sat on the ground across from the man, her legs draped to the side, pinning her skirt down to keep it from blowing up in the wind. The man in light-colored pants, and a casual blue button-up shirt. The two tried to set their glasses down next to them, but even with the engine cut off the waves made the drinks slosh, and they were both afraid the fragile glasses were teeter over and break. Maybe there wasn?t a couple at all.
Tan looked out at the speck of a boat, and hoped. He started pacing around, careful not to slip on the icy snow that had become a winter familiarity, and began to put his game plan into action.
There seemed to be a small, enclosed roof on the boat. It looked to be moving fast, and it almost looked like someone was being pulled behind it. Tan looked again, and thought he saw someone holding on to a rope, and standing up behind the boat. He squinted and realized his imagination had built an image that wasn?t true.
As the boat got closer, he realized the enclosed roof he saw was really three or four fishing poles secured along the side. It even looked like one was bouncing up and down like it had a fish on the line. Maybe there was a small crew working with a net on the other side. The wind whipped against him as he stood near the edge of the cliff trying to get a better view.
The cliff face dropped off abruptly from the side Tan was standing on, but it gave the best view of the open sea. He walked down a bit further away from the clearing and followed a craggy path down. He crouched down, and turned his back, to help block the wind as it whipped, and struck his fire starter against the rock. The hard knocks reverberated in the air, and came up empty until the fifth strike, which started fire, and he quickly brought it against a stick with a piece of cloth wrapped around it. The fire caught quickly against the torch and he carried it up where he planted it in one of the holes he?d meticulously dug into the ground.
Working quickly now he hopped down and went back to the place he?d grabbed the stick. He pulled four more out from a pile that seemed to be diminishing, hoping he had enough to carry out his plan. He walked to the lit torch in the center and lit one of the torches, planting it in a hole a few paces away from the center torch. He repeated the process for each stick, creating a semi-circle of lit torches, making a beacon of sorts.
As the boat got closer, he imagined it was a warship outfitted with artillery that would be fired at him if he was seen. Their only goal was to destroy him. If they could, they would launch a torpedo that would obliterate the whole island. He ducked his body below the raised clearing and made sure he was out of sight. It was his job to make sure the torches stayed lit.
He thought back to the first time and remembered how he had to run back and forth relighting each stick multiple times, some even toppling over. Everyone had laughed at him, and he felt his face grow hot, and he knew it wasn?t from the flames of the torches. But the torches had stayed lit. And the plan had worked.
The next time a smaller crowd watched him. He wasn?t sure if it there was less wind, if it was because he?d shaped the sticks a different way, or maybe it was because of the holes he?d precisely dug with his tools, but the torches stayed lit longer. After that the crowd moved towards the bottom of the island. Near the beach. That was where the action was at now.
The group assumed Tan still needed to be there to man the flames, and ensure they remained lit. They didn?t know he?d perfected a fluid that made the torches stay lit for hours, if needed. He didn?t correct them, he relished the time alone, and now he needed it.
He stood up and gathered the rest of the sticks, leaving one behind. He saw his breath puff out in front of him in a cloud, and shivered as he looked down the icy path. He was tempted to light the torch now, but knew it could potentially spoil his plan. He hurried down, and about halfway down he peeked through an opening in the rocks that opened into a cavern below. Far away he saw the group standing and waiting for the boat. Closer, in the small cove, he saw the group of boats they?d collected from their previous flame calls. The first few were battered, taken in with more force, but now that their technique had been improved, most of the boats looked almost untouched. They were practically were untouched, except for the wiring.
Tar pulled away from examining the cove, content it was unoccupied, and continued. As he rounded the corner he jumped. ?Hi, Tar,? a small child said excitedly. ?I?ve come a week early to shadow you.? A quick expression of frustration and anger flashed across Tar?s face, but he recovered and masked his voice.
?I?m glad you are so eager. I?m making some adjustments to the process, and need to add a few more torches. You wouldn?t mind keeping an eye up top for me, would you??
Tar was shaken by the unexpected addition, but he could still make it work. He went down by the cove and started mixing water with the broken limestone he?d piled together into empty halves of coconut shells. He carried two shells at a time up near the top, setting them down out of sight from the child. He replaced the shells with a lit torch and started placing them in holes he?d dug that would guide the ship to the other side of the island, away from the welcoming committee.
As the ship came clearer into focus, he could see it was a small yacht, and there were two small children on it. A far cry from the battleship he?d last imagined. Now he truly hoped his plan would work. He ran up to the top and started taking the torches down.
?What are you doing?? the child asked.
?I?m not sure this ship is safe. I?m taking the torches down to protect us. If they do land, I want to make sure the torches are snuffed completely, to keep them from finding the cove underneath. I need to pour this mixture into each of the holes, and stick the lit end of the torch in it. As far as it will go.? With the child taking over the task of hardening the holes, and burying the torch lighters, it?s one last task Tar will have to worry about, and one more thing in the way of the community starting up the tradition again.
He pretended to watch the child begin the task, but in reality he watched to make sure the boat veered towards the path he lit. As soon as it turned, he excused himself and ran down the cliff. The boat sped towards the beach, and he flagged it down. The boat idled, and he took out his final trick: A shell he?d been playing with to amplify his sound.
?Go away from here quick. Please stay back. The people here will hurt you.?
Tar turned back and saw the child looking down at him from the cliff, then he saw him disappear. He wasn?t sure if he was running towards him, or towards the community. Either way, he didn?t have much time now.
The man and the woman in the boat had been talking to each other. Instead of driving away they sped closer to him.
?Anyone that risks their lives to save us is a friend of ours. Come with us, because we have a feeling you?re next.?
They grabbed his hands and helped him up onto the boat. Tar looked back at the island and smiled. He saw the child, he saw the community, and hoped it was the last time he would see them. The plan had worked.
Topic: First draft - no edit (Read 345 times)