Beside a Burning Sea by John Shors

Author:John Shors
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Solomon Islands, Fiction, Romance, War & Military, shipwrecks, 1939-1945 - Pacific Area, American Contemporary Fiction - Individual Authors +, United States - Hospital ships, Historical - General, Pacific Area, 1939-1945, Soldiers - Japan, Historical, Soldiers, World War, Survival after airplane accidents, Fiction - Historical, Nurses, General, etc, Japan, etc., Love stories
ISBN: 9780451224927
Publisher: Penguin Group
Published: 2008-09-02T06:11:34.406000+00:00

AFTER LEAVING JOSHUA, Akira walked directly toward Annie. Though his upbringing told him to leave her in peace, to honor her wish to be alone, he had learned one thing from war—that leaving important words unsaid was a mistake that sometimes could never be undone. And so he sought her out, walking into the strengthening breeze. When Annie saw him, she turned away. Drawing a deep breath, he sat beside her—though respectfully distant—and for a time said nothing. He noticed that the shell he’d found was before her, overturned in the sand.

“I took the blade because . . . because I wanted . . . I needed to protect you,” he finally said, forcing himself to talk. She made no reply and he watched her face, longing to touch it. He started to speak again and then stopped, unused to expressing his feelings so openly—after all, in Japan people rarely spoke in such ways. After mustering his courage, he said softly, “You cannot give someone . . . a treasure and expect them to not protect it.”

“I didn’t ask you to protect me.”

“This is true. But you gave me a gift. And it is natural, yes, to protect a gift?”

She looked into his eyes. “What . . . what did I give you? What did I give you that’s so important that you’d deceive us?”

“Yourself.”

“And this . . . this is how you see me? As a gift? A treasure?”

“Yes.”

“But why?”

“Because a treasure provides. It provides hope and beauty and comfort, yes? And this is what . . . this is what you do for me.”

“I’m just . . . I’m really nothing special,” she said unsteadily, still angry, but also wanting to believe him, wanting to hear more.

He craved to touch her hand but held himself motionless. “May I continue?” he asked.

“Only if doing so will explain your actions.”

He sighed, glancing anxiously from the shell to her face. “You are special.”

“What does this have to do with the scalpel?”

“You fill my world . . . with color. And how could that not be special?”

Despite her irritation, his words warmed her and she picked up the shell, holding it between her hands. “And so you took the scalpel because you wanted to protect me?”

“Yes.”

“Nothing more?”

“No. But nothing less.”

“But why didn’t you tell me about it?”

“I should have. And I am sorry. I am so sorry for that mistake.”

She nodded, twisting the shell, remembering the happiness on his face when he’d given it to her. “Would you mind telling me . . . of this color?” she asked, sensing that he yearned to say more and knowing that she needed to prompt him.

He paused. “I will not dishonor you if I tell you?”

“No. Of course not.”

“Are you sure? I have already said too much, yes?”

“You can tell me.”

“I—”

“You need to tell me. Because if you don’t, I’ll never understand why you took the scalpel or why I’m so confused or why on earth I feel so torn.”

Akira noted the speed with which her voice had suddenly moved.

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