"I'm Tiki. You looking for your airplane?" "I don't know what I'm looking for, but it's beautiful here. This is an island?" The girl nodded. "I'm sorry the airplane killed your fish. I was only a passenger." "Not your fault. Manu says the Volcano was angry. She threw a stone and made your airplane fall. There's another." She pointed past him, and he turned to look up at shiny hints of distant metal, long contrails beginning to twist apart at their far ends. He made old man sounds when he dropped onto a mound of hardened lava, knees popping. "Did anyone else survive?" She shook her head. "You're the only one. Fish ate what the Sea God didn't want." "The volcano erupted?" "Just one stone." She used her thumb to indicate the barren mountain rising from the center of the island, a soaring brown monolith producing a ribbon of white smoke. "I've only seen volcanoes on television." She leaned toward him to whisper, "She has a bad temper." "It's incredible," he whispered back. "I guess the smoke means it really is active. That it's alive." She tilted her head at him. "How else would she throw stones?" "Right," he said, reasonably sure the engines had been starved of fuel, or died from a catastrophic failure of a bad wiring job. Or terrorists. "I guess that makes sense." "People who hunted for your airplane pieces said we should move far away. They said the Volcano will kill our village soon. Manu told them people can't hide from a god. God want to eat you, then you will get eaten no matter what island you go to. Manu said those people had nice clothes and fancy boat, but were dumb as shitter bugs." She wrinkled her nose. "Ever see what a shitter bug does?" He shook his head. "Has it been smoking like that for a long time?" Tiki shrugged, got to her feet. A pretty child--maybe ten years old--with wide eyes and smooth skin, she had a mass of thick hair halfway down her back, brushed to a deep shine. She wore the same style underpants as everyone else. She leaned in close again and lowered her voice. "She smokes when she's angry, which is most of the time. Her temper is worse than boy warriors who drink too much clap-clap. Warriors get angry because they have nobody to fight. Maybe it's the same thing for the Volcano God." "The volcano wants to fight?" "She is surrounded by water, has no enemies. Eating people is the only thing left to make her happy." The narrow trail of smoke was an unbroken line connecting the mountain to the horizon. Would it bring rescue? How far did it hold together for people to see? If it really came from the mouth of a god, maybe it traveled all the way to where they'd lifted off, the perfect white smoke mixing with the yellow smog over Los Angeles. Excerpted from Dash in the Blue Pacific by Cole Alpaugh All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
