Chapter Seventeen
“Falling is inevitable.”
I was surprised by the words as I reached our rooms several months later. What surprised me more was that it was only half past five in the afternoon, and this was very early for a teaching visit from Ang.
“Control lies only in when, and where, one chooses to meet it. Aerial ballistics exists to ensure that moment is not left to chance.”
Both of them turned from their work to me as I came in.
“Hi,” I said. “Lessons are a little early tonight, are they not?”
“Wingmate Boutros is to work with Fin on his field medic skills this evening, so it was more convenient for me to help Fin earlier,” Ang said.
“You don’t mind, do you, Dad?”
“Of course not.”
Fin looked at Ang. “I do have to go, sorry.”
Ang nodded, and Fin rushed to tidy away his books before running out the door. I’d barely had time to hang up my coat and he was gone.
“Sometimes,” I said, “I wonder where he gets his energy.”
“Youth,” Ang said. “I think I remember it.”
That made me chuckle. “You look like you’re still in it. Will you stay to have dinner with me?”
“I do not wish to impose.”
“And I do not wish to eat alone. Again.”
The fire was in the hearth, and I added more wood to it.
Driftwood was one of the things that we got in abundance here.
It washed up on the leeward side of the island.
Sometimes it was trees damaged in storms, sometimes it was the remains of boats or cargo chests, sometimes it was unidentifiable.
But it dried out and it burned. I pulled the skillet across the fire and left it to warm.
“How is Fin doing with the work?” I asked as Ang joined me and took one of the two seats on either side of the fire.
“Slowly,” Ang admitted. “Every other class I have found that he picks things up extremely quickly. But mathematics is his weak point.”
I nodded and took my usual seat opposite Ang.
“It always has been. When we were in Pasaocea, the tutor there did not reward achievement, but he shamed and punished failure. Fin always struggled at the speed the man pushed the children too, even though they were so young, and Fin was punished for that. I think it set up a mental block for him that maths just wasn’t his subject. ”
Ang nodded. “The theory has merit. I am not sure that I can overcome that, but I can say that Fin, while catching on slowly for him, is not slow in general. I have known many a slower Rider. He will do well in college.”
I nodded. The skillet had been warming, so I drizzled a little oil on it and was rewarded with a satisfying sizzle.
Small chunks of oil-and-herb-coated meat went on the iron, plus a few handfuls of small brown mushrooms. I placed a couple of rolls baked that lunchtime by the fire to rewarm.
I kept the meat and mushrooms moving around so as not to burn them, and myself relaxing in the warmth, the silence, and the scents that made my mouth water.
Without my having to ask, Ang fetched plates and cutlery as the meat finished cooking so I could serve us.
The meat proved tender and succulent. The mushrooms added a nuttiness that balanced the flavour and warmed the belly. When we were done, he insisted on helping me wash up, which felt silly and odd and cosy. Then we sat by the fire and for a while just watched the flames.
“I apologise,” I said at last.
Ang turned from the fire to look at me. “What for?”
“Being such a fool for such a very long time. I was so caught up in Fin being my son, him having only one parent, and it being my job to provide for him that I didn’t realise how much I needed help.
I didn’t realise how selfish of his time and attention I had become.
The way I treated you and others here, I was so wrong. Because I was so scared.”
Ang stood up, picked up the chair and moved it so we were side by side.
“We all behave strangely when we are frightened. I never doubted that you were a good father. And perhaps I shouldn’t have pushed in as much as I did.
But I wanted to spend time with Fin, because it was as close as I could get to spending time with you.
” He reached out and placed his hand over mine.
“I know you will always love Sasha. That you do not share my worldview, my life choices. Sometimes, the heart does not pick wisely or in line with our wishes. But you should know that I will always be here for you. Supporting you. Supporting your family.”
That he pulled his hand away left me bereft in ways I could not fathom. With no idea what to say, I turned my head back to the fire and watched the flames die down. Perhaps falling was inevitable after all.
* * *
The sweat was cold over me as I opened the door and walked into our apartment. It was warmer in there, the fire blazing. Ang and Fin were at the table, studying.
“You look shattered,” Fin unflatteringly pointed out.
“Yeah.” I leant on the door for support. My two favourite people together.
“You were supposed to be making the Riders and Wingmen exercise,” Ang said. “Not wearing yourself out.”
He had a point. Damn him. “Lead by example, that’s what you do,” I said. “So I do what I make them do.”
“And they are as exhausted?” Ang asked.
“They are all a good ten years younger than me.” A depressing truth.
“Ah, yes. Youth. I remember that.” And looked at Fin. “I think we are done for tonight.”
Fin nodded. “I know my homework.” He stood and collected his things. “The stew’s in the pot, keeping warm,” he told me and disappeared into his room.
I moved over to the table. Ang was still sitting there, gathering his own papers. When he looked up at me, I leant down, thanked him, then turned to serve the stew.
Left alone to eat and recover my breath, the bowl was nearly empty when I started to wonder why my thanking Ang had involved me leaning down and kissing him on the lips. Just like I used to with Sasha. Then I started to wonder why I just wanted to try that again.
* * *
Another newssheet with missing pages. What was being hidden from us? Why was it being hidden? Probably the answer to those two questions was the same.
I recalled Ang’s question about Seven Rise Island.
It was odd that he had been so keen for us to fly past and look for signs of habitation.
Why? It wasn’t an inviting looking place.
Only one beach and that was shale. Hard, flinty shale at that.
There wasn’t much vegetation to live off either, and no trees.
What could possibly be worth inhabiting that island for?
Thinking back over the last few months, I remembered reports of seafarer activity all around the coast. Everywhere.
But I’d not left this island for more than a day at any one time for anything to have happened here and I not know about it.
In fact, thinking back, there hadn’t been a seafarer raid in all the time I’d been on Unkea.
Clear headed for once, I realised it wasn’t just the last few months. This had been going back years.
Why hadn’t I noticed that before? Simple – too wrapped up in being a dad.
But why no raids?
Why everywhere but here?