Savage (Daughters of the Jaguar) Page 19

  I came to enjoy Heather's company a lot and regretted my resentment towards her. I still saw her as a spoiled rich girl, but she never pretended to be anything else. She was determined to have her way in everything and maybe her way wasn't so bad after all. Slowly I realized that she had only been hard on me to help me make the right choices. She told me she was afraid I was going to throw my whole life away because of some crush.

  "I was determined to never let that happen to you," she said one day. "I care too much about you to just watch you ruin yourself while I do nothing. I knew those people were trouble and that they would somehow hurt you. I am glad you didn't let them drag you further into their messy lives. I am glad you put an end to it before it was too late."

  Somehow she had convinced herself that I was the one who had stopped it after she had told me to and threatened to tell her parents. That I had somehow chosen to listen to her advice instead of my own heart.

  I let her believe that.

  Heather even convinced Jim to forgive me, and since he had a huge soft spot for Heather, he did as she told him. He started hanging out with us on the weekends, took us fishing and beer-drinking or we played tennis at his father's club. Some weekends we drove up north and went hiking on trails and caught big snakes that he skinned and put up on his wall in his parents’ house. In many ways Jim was the perfect guy to help me forget. He was the perfect company for me in those days trying to move on. He kept me busy and could always come up with something exciting for the three of us to do. Every now and then I caught him glancing in Heather's direction. I recognized that look and I understood why he had an urge to keep busy as well. Somehow in the middle of all this we became friends. Not the kind of friends that bonded and told each other everything, but more friends with a bond and a sort of subtle understanding of each other's needs. We could just hang out and not have to explain ourselves to each other. We could walk in the water for hours with our fishing poles and not utter a word and it would be our happiest moment. We would go out boating for hours on his father's yacht and just drink beer and listen to Michael Jackson angrily telling someone to "Beat it" or singing about "The lady in my life". Even on days when Heather couldn't go with us because she had to study or wanted to be with Danielle and Regina, Jim and I would still hang out together. Sometimes we’d take Jim's jeep cross country through the forest and wetland on a wild ride while screaming our lungs out. Screaming our repressed anger out.

  It is quite mesmerizing come to think of it, that we, even with our many differences, somehow found a cohesion, an alliance if you will. We found we had something in common, something very simple yet unique; we enjoyed each other's company. It all came down to avoiding having to think or talk about what was eating us. Keeping ourselves so busy that we never had time for it. Avoiding asking questions, avoiding being alone with our thoughts. I grew to like and care for Jim. Unlike any friendship I have ever been in even since then, I never had to be accountable for anything, I never had to explain why I was sad and sometimes stared empty into thin air for hours almost without blinking. Jim knew something was going on with me, but he never asked about it. I appreciated that about him. He was waiting for me to be ready. And I never asked about his love for Heather, either. I knew he appreciated that as well. We didn't have to tell one another. We didn't have to speak at all.

  We never mentioned the jaguar again until three months later.

  Chapter 30

  It happened on a Saturday afternoon. We had taken Dr. Kirk's boat out to go spearfishing in the Atlantic Ocean. It was our latest new hobby that I enjoyed immensely. It is really an ancient method of fishing that has been used throughout the world for millennia. Early civilizations were familiar with the custom of spearing fish from rivers and streams using sharpened sticks. Modern spearfishing makes use of elastic-powered spear guns and slings, or compressed gas pneumatic-powered spear guns, to strike the hunted fish. Basically, we would just put on our SCUBA diving equipment and go hunting under the surface of the ocean. It was a lot of fun. And as it turned out I was actually very good at it. Don't ask me why. I guess at that time and point in my life I just liked to spear things and kill the fish. I don't think you need a psychologist to explain why I liked it so much. I was angry and this was a way for me to get some of that anger out. Plus, it was a lot more challenging than sitting on top of the boat and waiting for the fish to come to you. In this way I felt like I had the power over life and death. I would choose the fish and I would decide when it was going to die.

  Heather wasn't into spearfishing in the deep sea, so on that particular Saturday she had decided to go shopping with her girlfriends instead. It was just Jim and I and that suited us just fine. For hours we searched the ocean for the big catch communicating only by gestures. I had set my heart on finally catching a Blue Marlin. It is a very recognizable fish with its elongated body, spear-like snout, and a long rigid dorsal fin, which extends forward to form a crest. But at the same time, the Blue Marlin is an incredibly fast swimmer, reaching speeds of about sixty-eight miles per hour. And they are big. The Atlantic Blue Marlin can reach almost twenty feet in length and eighteen hundred pounds in weight. Needless to say it was difficult to catch, but if you did it made a great trophy. They say that spear fishers all have that one fish that they dream of, that one fish that is going to define them as fishermen. I don't know if that is true, but if it is, the Blue Marlin had to be mine.

  We had searched the waters for a couple of hours and almost given up when Jim finally spotted one not far from us. It was beautiful, the biggest of the kind I had ever seen and even the biggest Jim had ever seen, he later told me. But it was far away. We had to go farther away from where the boat was anchored than planned, but I was willing to take the chance to get my long-awaited catch. We both were. Without a sound we swam closer holding our spear guns in front of us ready to shoot if either of us got the chance. Jim stayed a few feet behind me since he knew this was my catch. It was an unspoken agreement between us, since I had wanted this for so long and since Jim already had several of Blue Marlins hanging on the walls of his father's library. But even if it was my kill, Jim was ready to take it for me if I should miss or fail my chance somehow. It wasn't likely going to happen since I had improved my aim and ability to pull the trigger at the right time and place tremendously since we had hunted together in the swamps. Jim had taught me everything; he had trained me using skeet-shooting and later by taking me deer-hunting and eventually he had made a real hunter out of me, as he put it himself. I never froze again, and I certainly never missed a shot. To me, killing animals had somehow become my way of getting some of the steam out, letting some of my anger out, and even if it was against everything I used to be and believe, it helped me. I no longer felt like I was slowly dying inside.

  The Blue Marlin didn't see us until we were within shooting range. I lifted the spear-gun slowly to not scare it away and aimed. But as I did, it spotted me and started swimming away from us, really fast. I looked back at Jim who signaled that we should try to follow it. So we did, even though we knew it was way too fast for us.

  The problem with spear-fishing is that you have only one shot, only one chance to kill. You need to know exactly where the heart is. You have to shoot it directly in the heart to kill it instantly. Normally the technique is to wait for the fish to come to you and then attack, but Jim and I had our hearts set on this beautiful enormous specimen that we both knew would make any of our fishing colleagues jealous to the bone so we did what you're not supposed to do. We followed it and were led far away from our boat. Deep into the dark ocean. And just as we thought it didn't know we were following it, it suddenly started swimming in circles around us extremely fast so we couldn't aim on it. Then it swam into a huge crowd of smaller fish where it disappeared for a while before I spotted it again still trying to escape my aim by moving really fast. This was one clever bastard, I remember thinking. I didn't understand at first why it didn't just out swim us. Then I realized that it was mere
ly being territorial. Suddenly it began swimming towards us and then passed us very close and extremely fast. It did so five times and that was when I realized we had stepped right into its food source and it was merely protecting it. It was attacking us with its snout. We had to be careful and I had to be extremely precise when I fired my one shot. If I missed it could end up killing us instead.

  On the sixth pass I lifted my gun and aimed right at it. It was like everything went quiet around me. Like there was no other fish, no Jim, no boats. Nothing but this enormous fish in the water coming towards me with huge speed. It was like an ancient survival instinct had arisen inside of me. It was either him or me. Man against nature. My heart was pounding in my chest as the marlin came closer with its snout pointed directly at me like a knight's lance. I was breathing heavily as it came closer and closer. When I thought it was close enough I fired my gun. I was pulled backwards in the water when it went off. I stared at the spear as it darted through the water. I could only hope that my aim was right and that I had been close enough for it to reach. The spear came closer to the marlin and went right into the fish, straight through its body and killed it instantly. It kept swimming a few feet more before it finally stopped moving -not very far from where I was. I was hyperventilating and it took me several seconds to realize that it was actually dead, it was no longer moving towards me. I think it was when the red blood started to mix with the water. The relief was massive.

  With great effort I dragged it towards the boat but had to have Jim help me get it out of the water. We pulled and dragged and finally we had it on the deck of the boat.

  "Holy smokes!" Jim burst out. "That's got to be the biggest bastard I have ever laid eyes on. It's huge!" Then he laughed and slapped me in the back. "Way to go, pretty boy. You officially have earned my respect now."

  I smiled and nodded. "Thanks."

  Jim laughed again and opened the cooler box and took a couple of beers out. He threw me one. "Here, you deserved it."

  "Thanks," I said again. Then we sat in the chairs on deck while the adrenalin slowly wore off. The beer was cold and made me feel good. When I was done with it Jim threw me another one. We drank while we stared at the enormous dead fish lying on the deck. I had pulled the spear out of its side and it was covered in blood where the spear had gone through.

  "Ah. That's life, huh?" Jim said and put his feet up on an empty chair in front of him making the white leather wet. All our equipment was thrown in a pile. It was quiet now. A fish jumped out of the water now and then and made a splash as it dove back in. I took a deep breath of the moist air. It was late November, but still hot and humid. I could hardly believe it. I was so happy I hadn't decided to go back to the cold and darkness of my homeland. I missed nothing. Not even my father, sad to say. I had only called him a few times from the Kirk's phone since it was extremely expensive back then to call over the Atlantic, but even then he didn't seem that interested in hearing from me anyway. I mean, I think he was happy to hear my voice, but after a short while he would stop the conversation with a "better not use all of the Kirk's money. They have been so nice to you so you show them your gratitude by not exploiting their generosity. Okay boy?"

  "Okay Dad." And then that was it. He didn't seem to miss me so I decided I wasn't going to feel bad for not missing him. And to be frank, there was nothing else for me back in that country.

  Jim looked at me with a smile. "Still can't believe you actually took down that bastard," he mumbled and finished yet another beer. He threw me a new one even if I hadn't finished mine yet.

  "Me either," I laughed. I glanced at the ocean. It was such a calm day. Those were my favorites. The calm ones. And with the Atlantic you would be sure to always have waves since it was so big, so even on calm days I could go riding the waves on my windsurfer, jumping in the air and do my tricks. I had become quite known around St. Augustine for my windsurfing skills and often people would gather at the beach to watch me when I took the windsurfer into the ocean.

  After a couple of beers more, I got drunk. And so did Jim. Drunk in the middle of a Saturday afternoon on a boat far out in the Atlantic Ocean. And finally, we opened up to one another. Finally we dared to speak about what was hurting us.

  "I fell in love with the wrong girl," I suddenly said, taking another sip of my beer.

  Jim nodded slowly while looking at his own beer. "I thought so," he said. Then he drank, and when he had swallowed he looked at me. "It's Heather, right?"

  I looked at him with surprise. Was that what he had thought all this time? "No," I said.

  Jim's eyes were still on me. He looked like he didn't quite grasp what I had just told him. "But ... but I thought you and Heather ... I thought ... well, I don't know what I thought. That you somehow suffered from the same broken heart and unfulfilled love that I did, I guess."

  I shook my head heavily. "We had something in the beginning, yes. But she is not the one who broke my heart."

  Jim nodded. "Ah. I see. Well it doesn't really matter anyway. She is not into me and she never will be." He drank again. A big fish jumped out of the water right behind him. "Who was it that broke your heart then?"

  "The girl next door." I avoided his eyes. I had my doubts about telling this; I wasn't sure I was ready for it. "Her name is Aiyana."

  "That girl from that family where the father died in some drug confrontation?"

  I laughed. "Well, we don't know how he died, but that seems to be the general opinion, yes. He disappeared years ago. No one has seen him since and apparently his family didn't bother to search for him, either. Nice family, huh?"

  Jim nodded in silence. I sensed that he could feel my hurt somehow. Maybe because he recognized the feeling.

  "I think they just don't like men," I said. My voice had become blurry by now. "They probably hate us all."

  Jim handed me another can and I took it even though I knew I had had enough. I wanted to feel nothing, I wanted to get so drunk I became numb. I wanted to sedate the anger and bitterness. I wanted to quiet my thoughts and the many voices and images in my head. Even if they had in time become more insignificant they were still there, still bothering me.

  Jim sighed. "You should be with Heather," he said.

  I looked at him. "What are you saying, man?"

  "I have wanted to tell you for a long time but I didn't want to overstep my boundaries. I had no idea what happened to you two and I didn't want to stick my nose in something that you didn't want me to interfere in. But I have to say I think she is still into you. I see it in her eyes when we are together. I see it constantly. She looks at you when you're not watching, she smiles at everything you say. She really likes you and you should be grateful for that. My God, how you should be grateful. What I wouldn't give ... " He sighed again. "But she is not into me, you see? It doesn't matter how much I want her, she will never want me."

  I nodded. "I know," I said. "Love's a bitch, right?"

  "So I figure you might as well have her, if I can't," he said.

  I was surprised, to put it mildly. "What are you talking about? I am not going to steal Heather from you. I could never do that."

  Jim looked at me intensely. "But you have to. I want nothing more in this world than for her to be happy. And she would be happy with you. I know it. She is crazy about you."

  "It'll wear off. It's just a crush."

  "That's what I thought when I saw you two together on your first night here, when all that crap happened in the river. When you kissed her, I thought: ’let him have her, let her have some fun with him and then she'll come to me when he is no longer fun’. I thought you were her new toy. But that's four months ago now, and she is still taken by you. I think it is a little more than just a crush. Besides, nothing would make me happier than to have my best friend and the woman I love have each other. At least the two of you would be happy, and that would make me happy, too."

  "You're a bigger man than I will ever be," I said.

  "That I am," he said and emptied anot
her beer.

  Then we both laughed out loud. The outburst scared a couple of birds that had taken a rest on the railing of the boat. They took off, flapping their wings desperately to get away.

  "I only have one thing I want in return," Jim said and crushed an empty beer can with his hand.

  "And what is that?"

  "To kill a jaguar."

  Chapter 31

  We both knew it was insane. We both knew it was a stupid thing to do. To go hunting while drunk has to be the most idiotic and reckless thing anyone could ever do. Even driving there in Jim's jeep in our condition was irresponsible. But we did it anyway. We were young, heartbroken and not afraid of anything, least of all of dying.

  It was dark before we arrived and Jim lit the way with his flashlight. The moon was hiding behind the clouds and only occasionally peeked out to light our path with bluish light. We each held our rifles close and ready to shoot should anything occur. Just like under the water, we communicated with gestures and signaling. The way we preferred it.

  I had promised Jim to show him where I had found the jaguar and we had even brought meat for it to lure it out of its hiding. I had decided that I didn't care about the jaguar anymore, I didn't care that we were about to kill it. I guess I somehow managed to reach some kind of numbness, after all. Or maybe it was more that I was mad at everything that had made me happy earlier on. I had felt something when I had been close to this animal that had once saved me, some sort of strange mixture between gratitude and love which I could no longer comprehend. How could you love an animal just because it had saved your life? It was still an animal. But I had seen something in those eyes that had somehow affected me and caused me to want to protect the creature. Now I had decided to get rid of that feeling like I had gotten rid of the feelings I had once had for Aiyana. I wanted to annihilate all my feelings and emotions, and by crushing anything that had made me feel something I somehow figured I could stop feeling at all. It is foolish, I know, but again I was young and young people act irrationally from time to time. I did this for Jim, I told myself. He deserved this kill.