Dragons Awakening

On an island, nothing was far from anywhere. In less than five minutes, Akolo pulled into the narrow driveway of their rental cottage. Bright yellow Bird of Paradise plants, their stems more like stalks, swayed in the increasing wind. Their blooming flight failed to add appeal to the unkempt house. The University had secured this place for them years ago. At first, Dad promised it was temporary. Soon enough, it was clear his desire for alcohol outweighed his motivation to change their living arrangements. Aside from that, there was no money for renting something nicer.

Akolo bolted from the car, slamming the door behind him. To avoid entering the house with the abominable girlfriend, Akolo slowly removed the bungee cords securing his board to the roof rack. Flecks of chrome-colored paint peeled, flaking across the narrow roof of the car like expensive dandruff. He breathed through his mouth, but the rotten egg smell whirling through the air made him gag.

The neighbor’s ginger cat slunk near the corner of the house. Akolo pushed his thoughts toward the tiny mind. When the cat scampered beneath the fence, Akolo smiled. At least he could save an animal from the coming ash.

The front door slammed. Propelled into motion, Akolo pulled the board to his side and jogged into the house.

A one-armed shove sent the front door careening into the wall behind it. The echoing impact rang through the sparsely furnished front room. Is that enough of an announcement for you, Dad?

Hard to believe they had lived in here for four years. Paper towers leaned in various directions, keeping the scarred wooden end tables from being useful. A stack of boxes shoved in the corner made it appear as if someone had forgotten to finish unpacking. For years.

“Akolo?”

He leaned the board against the wall and sauntered into the kitchen.

“Here he is.” The leggy girl showing too much cleavage waved in Akolo’s general direction. “I’m checking the website for updates.” Akolo wished he had an excuse to bury himself in data from the volcanic eruption.

His father nodded but the girl had already left the kitchen. Obviously, she wasn’t living here because of undying affection for her professor. A vision of welts striping his dad’s back reminded him of the girl’s true nature. Geology student by day and torture master by night. Akolo squelched the thought, turning his ire toward his father.

“I don’t need a babysitter.” Akolo squinted at the halo created around his father from the late afternoon sunshine.

His father never looked up from the ancient computer, finger tapping its mouse pad and bloodshot stare weaving across the seventeen inch screen.“The volcano is erupting.”

What sort of moronic statement was that?

“I didn’t want you out there. This Strombolic activity is uncommon, and it worries me.” So the volcano was shooting fountains of rock? It was miles away.

Akolo yanked open the refrigerator. Wine coolers lining the inside of the door shook, tinkling like a wind chime. An open case of beer monopolized the bottom shelf. Akolo shoved it aside, fingers fumbling for the can of soda he had seen earlier. He pulled it out, shut the door and flicked the top of the can with his middle finger. Hard.

The pop of the can opening reminded him of all the odd things he’d seen during the eruption. His curiosity was piqued, the bouncy ball in his stomach confirmed it. But if he didn’t push forward with his protest, it would be letting his dad off easy. If he truly was worried about Akolo, he should have come after him instead of sending the leech.

“I’m not an idiot, Dad.” Akolo sucked liquid from the can. It fizzed and bubbled at the back of his nasal cavity, stinging the sensitive area. Heat trailed the carbonation sliding down his throat.

Since his mother’s death, Akolo worried about his dad. His father looked old now that his curly brown hair was more than half gray. Purple bags drooped beneath his cocoa-colored eyes. Today they sparked with intelligence. Perhaps the volcanic eruption would shake his father out of his self-destructive state.

“Eruptions are happening all across the Pacific Rim,” his father said. “It’s like some sort of chain reaction. Nothing of the sort has been recorded in more than two thousand years.”

“Crazy.”

For the past decade, seismic activity and volcanic eruptions had been increasing. First, the events increased a moderate five percent. The next year they tripled, and every year since had seen an exponential rise in activity. Multiple eruptions or quakes around the world in a single day were now the norm. Eruptions and quakes confined to a single geographical area, however, were an aberration.

“How many?” Akolo leaned closer to his dad, craning his neck to see the computer screen.

“There have been five eruptions besides Kilauea, and seven quakes. The most recent one in Chile tipped the Richter scale past seven.”

A dozen separate events within hours? Akolo’s stomach quivered, and his fingers tightened around the soda can. This was major. Something ominous churned beneath the earth’s surface.

His father threaded his fingers through his collar-length hair, spiking it on one side of his head.“I wish I could access the databases at the San Jose Center. It would be interesting to trace the patterns.”

San Jose, where Akolo had been born. In fact, every happy memory of his life happened there. All in the past. If God existed, he could prove himself by giving Akolo that life back. Akolo’s chest ached, and he swallowed another mouthful of soda.

Not that his father was thinking about their lost family or the life they used to have. He was rabid for data, which was an improvement over the usual apathy.

A knock sounded from the other room. Akolo gazed toward the oddr, while his dad continued mumbling about data. Doubtful that the girl would answer. She never did anything helpful. With the local volcanic readings in front of her, she would be even more worthless. Akolo shook his head while striding toward the front door. Single-minded scientists.

A creaking groan accompanied the door’s opening. On the other side, Uncle Oke held a section of cardboard overhead. Behind him, thin flakes of ash drifted to the ground. His uncle’s collared dress shirt and chinos, a sign of his administrative position at the university, looked rumpled. He waved his electronic tablet at Akolo.

“Hey Unk.”

His uncle greeted him and nudged Akolo’s shoulder with his own as he brushed past. Oke’s brown face broke into a smile but his black eyes remained serious.

Oke entered the kitchen and hailed Akolo’s father. Akolo shuffled between his uncle and the table. Was his father sitting straighter? Businesslike posture didn’t keep the riotous curls from sticking out like porcupine quills. Akolo swallowed more soda and leaned against the counter. This should be an interesting conversation.

“I’ve received several data streams from two eruptions,” Oke said, sliding the tablet across the table to his father and stepping back.

“Which?” He lost himself scrolling through the information on the screen.

Akolo walked into the living area and pulled his father’s convertible computer from a battered leather satchel. The bag had been gift from his mom. She’d given it to his dad on their first Christmas together. Akolo felt the familiar mist in his eyes. He shook his head. Not the time. Returning to the kitchen, he placed the computer on the table beside his dad.

“Interesting. Did you see the drop in internal temperature minutes before each eruption?”

Akolo’s dad glanced up at Oke, noticed the computer and flipped it open. The solar cells glowed when the light touched them, and the screen flickered to life.

Akolo drank, leaned and watched. He couldn’t remember the last time his father had been so intent on anything.

The two men exchanged a flurry of scientific postulations. His dad spoke figures into a database on his own machine. Would the award-winning vulcanologist emerge from the shell Dr. Maddix Duboff had hidden in for five years? Akolo could only hope.

“The most interesting news, Maddix,” Uncle Oke said, “is a call I received from the EUSCVO.”

Akolo shifted from foot to foot, mind spinning on the acronym, trying to decode it. His father had no such problems.

Without looking up, his dad asked, “Earthquakes and eruptions in Europe, too?”

“Just the rumblings and churning that has moved everyone in Italy into pre-evacuation phase.”

“Vesuvius is due,” Dad said, pausing his microphone for a moment.

“In light of these most recent developments, they had a request.”

Scrolling on the tablet with one finger, his father seemed focused on his task. Uncle Oke crossed his arms, waiting. Akolo saw worry rather than impatience etched into his uncle’s features. Nothing unusual about that expression. Was it bad news?

Akolo nudged his uncle, pointing to his soda can. Uncle Oke shook his head. A business visit. Akolo wondered about the request from Europe. Italy and Vesuvius his dad said.

“They requested our data,” his father said, setting his microphone aside. “Probably for the past year. Looking for patterns so they could predict the next big eruption.”

“Our data is part of it,” Uncle Oke said, shifting his weight. Akolo furrowed his brow.

“Like I said before you came in, Oke, I would love to take a peek at San Jose’s data. I’m sure there are global trends. Analyzing and comparing every eruption would enlighten us.”

“That’s probably why they asked for you, Maddix.”

Akolo’s dad blinked, a “you-just-woke-me-from-a-nap” look. Dead air filled the room. Even the hum on the refrigerator took a break.

His father shook his head, slow at first then with vigor.

“I can see the Dr. Duboff I admire yearning to jump at this chance.” Uncle Oke leaned toward the table.

“No. I can’t.”

The hand which had typed data speedily now trembled, inches above the keyboard. The way a drug addict shakes when he needs a fix. Akolo slumped against the refrigerator, lips pressed tightly. His arms flailed at his sides. Soda sloshed but didn’t spill. The can was nearly empty.

“You should consider this before you say no.”

“You know how I’ve been.” Just because Akolo had cleared the empty whiskey and vodka bottles off the counter didn’t mean anyone in the room believed the drinking binges had stopped.

“This is exactly what you need to shake that off.”

“You think I haven’t been trying?”

Akolo pressed his lips together to stop the flow of words bubbling inside his mind. Trying? Getting drunk after work rather than before it was his dad’s idea of shaking off his alcohol habit? Uncle Oke blamed grief for the behavior. Because his father was the only one who loved or mourned her? Hardly. One person in the room had lost both parents the day his mother died.

Uncle Oke retrieved his tablet. “I’m not responding to their request until tomorrow. Really consider it, Maddix.”

As his uncle turned away, Akolo’s father wilted against his chair, head drooping toward the tabletop. How many minutes had the scientist been in the room? Would the masochistic alcoholic return with vengeance?

Not if Akolo had a say. Sudden inspiration sent him bolting after his uncle.

Akolo tugged the door open a moment after it clicked shut. Outside, murky ash dusted the ground, abnormal-looking snow. A few flakes fluttered in the air, which felt thick in his throat when he inhaled to make his plea.

“Uncle Oke.”

He turned, one foot off the stoop. The sadness creasing his dark-skinned face made Akolo’s eyes sting. Not giving in to misery at the moment. This was a golden opportunity.

“I can convince him to go.”

One caterpillar-like eyebrow raised beneath the thick Hawaiian hair.

“I’m not sure that’s for the best.” A slow, deliberate answer.

“You saw him. He came to life working with that data. Once he gets away from here,” Akolo gestured to the house, “he’ll bury himself in the problem.”

“Five years ago, I would have agreed with you Akolo. Now I’m not so sure.”

“I am.” Akolo gulped back the tightness in his chest. “I’ll go with him, work beside him. He’ll forget everything but the research.”

Uncle Oke nodded slowly, cupping his chin, his thinking pose. “He won’t want you missing school.”

Akolo shrugged. “School? The world is blowing up bit by bit and you’re worried about school?”

A toothy white grin destroyed his uncle’s serious expression.

“The university will pay to fly you both to Italy, and the research center offered to house your dad.”

A subtle reference to their financial problems. If anyone else had mentioned them, Akolo would have cringed and denied it. No sense pretending. This was family. It didn’t matter anyway. The situation was about to change. This job offer would spring his dad from his self-made trap.

“You have until the morning. Italy’s a few hours ahead of us. They want an answer soon.”

“Thanks. I won’t let you down.”

The caterpillar rose and fell. “It’s not you I’m worried about.”