PULAU MATI by John L. Evans Page A

south.  He gazed out past the wreck where debris was drifting to the northwest.  There were likely bodies amongst it but there was little they could do about that.  None of the larger pieces were waving to get their attention so he did not think anyone else was alive out there.
    Melanie broke his reverie.  “M aybe we should move Lleyton first.  And then check on Malik and the other guy.”
    “You are right, Mel anie.  Let’s find a shady place back in the trees that we can leave them to rest awhile.”
    “I’ll look,” Lex said and sprinted up the beach.
    While Lex was gone, Gray laid out his soggy wallet on the sand to dry and then walked over to the old Japanese man.  The small man had thick, unruly grey hair, brown blotches on his face and was slightly stooped.  He was barefoot but black oxfords with black socks lying across them to dry sat beside him.  Gray knelt to one side of the old man so he did not block the man’s view of his wife.  “Sir, do you speak English?”
    The old man lifted his gaze to Gray. “I do.”
    “Good.  My name is Gray.  We are going to discuss things we need to do to survive and maybe get help for the badly injured young man over there.  Will you join us?”
    “How can I be of any help?” he said in a fatalistic tone.
    “I am very sorry for the loss of your mate.  Were you married long?”
    “A ll of our adult lives.  We raised children and grandchildren.  This time was for us.”
    “I had not been married as long as that but I know what it is like to lose a wife.”   That was not a total lie.  He and his wife had divorced four years ago and the pain had been nearly unbearable for him.
    The old man rose and brushed sand from his wet pants.  Gray believed the old man must have incredible heart to have made the swim in clothes and pulling the body of his wife.  “As soon as we get the young man and the Emirates rep down by the beach moved to shade we will discuss what we can do.”
    The old man nodded.
    Gray stepped over to the Latin looking man who was gazing up at him.  He was a very handsome man with curly black hair and a strong jaw darkened by designer stubble.  His black slacks and black body shirt were wet and his shoes were beside him, drying.  He was slender but well proportioned and if he were standing, probably close to Gray’s height.  “Do you speak English?”
    “Yes.  Is that all you speak?”
    For a moment Gary thought the man was sincerely asking if he spoke another language but the tone and the sneer on the man’s face belied that.  Gray was not easily riled but he felt a momentary rush of adrenalin despite his fatigue. “Je parle Français, Espanol und ein kleines bisschen Deutsch.  Why do you ask?” he replied and then felt like he had been manipulated into defending himself. He was trying hard not to get pissed
    The man grinned but it did not look like it was meant to be friendly.  “Most Americans require everyone else to speak English so they can communicate.”
    The man’s accent Gray could not place.  It sounded a bit like Anna’s but also Latin American.  He glanced back at the others gathered around Lleyton.  “I won’t argue with that but so far we have four first languages in the group that are not English but they all speak English so it looks like that will be the common language.  My name is Gray.  Will you join us?”  He extended his hand.
    The man rose and brushed his hands against his shirt to wipe off the sand.  “My name is Paolo Molenaar,” he said and very briefly shook Gray’s hand and then indicated with his hand that he would follow him.
    Lex was back and waiting by Lleyton.  “There’s a big tree a short ways in that’ll provide shade most of the day.”
    Gray knelt beside Lleyton.  “Melanie, support his head.  Lex and I will take his arms and torso.  Anna a leg.”  He looked up at the old man.  “What is your name?”
    “Shinobu.”
    “Shinobu, thank you.  You take a leg.