What Shade of Blue is the Sky

© Nico Chiat

In early August 1944, there rose a volcanic Island from the sea. Because of the minerals from the tephra, crops were plentiful and the townspeople were able to produce abundantly for themselves. The days were long and hot.

Every day when the clock would strike at five and the church bells would sound, the volcano erupted. A plume of black smoke briefly darkened the sky, casting a shade over the small town which sat on the most eastern part of the Island. Lava would flow down the western point, hitting the seawater, instantly turning waves to vapor. The villagers, leaving their places of work and heading home for the night, as well as the soldiers returning to their boats and barracks, were relieved to look up and see the volcano let off some steam. For if the volcano consistently erupted, the force was moderated enough that the town would remain unharmed.

It was a hot summer afternoon and the military ships had been stationed on the Island for just over a year. The older villagers began to grow tired of their uninvited guests, but the children were quite amused by them and their unfamiliar possessions.

Come nightfall the soldiers would gather at the port, drinking beer and smoking cigarettes, singing the ballads of Bing Crosby till they were drunk. The children of the town, who headed home before their curfew, would often stop for a few moments and curiously inspect their neighbors, surrounding them, asking questions about life and war off of the Island, and admiring their silver Jeeps and polished rifles.

A young child watched with admiration as an officer chewed, then pulled a tacky glob from his mouth and stuck it to the stone wall he was leaning on. The two made brief eye contact through his Ray-Bans before the officer was called into a tent by the voice of a superior. After a few moments, the officer returned, walked up to the child, and said in a charming tone “Young child nice to meet you. Are you the son of the farmer who lives atop the hill?”

“Yes” responded the child with shaken words.

“Can you run home and grab me the bottle of wine from the top shelf of your kitchen cabinet? If you do this, I will repay you with a great American gift!” voiced the officer.

The child, overjoyed by the recognition, ran all the way home, snuck past his mother into the kitchen, and climbed up the counter to the top shelf of the cabinets, where, to his surprise, there sat a bottle of red wine. He grabbed the bottle that seemed half his size and ran back to the barracks as fast as he could, concealing the bottle beneath his loose shirt. Upon arrival, he proudly presented the gift to the officer. The officer then reached into his pocket and pulled out two pieces of Juicy Fruit chewing gum from its yellow pack, handing them to the child. The boy who had never seen an edible of this sort, bit down three times and swallowed the first piece he opened.

“Not like that!” exclaimed the officer, “you chew it until there is no more flavor, then you spit it out”.

All night the child laid on the black sand and chewed gum and blew bubbles, as the ash from the volcano fell gently upon his face, never spitting it out.

The next day, come five pm the volcano let out its plume of smoke, and everyone once again began to head home. The children congregated around the army men, and the men drank and smoked Marlboros, Chesterfields, and Winstons.

The child lingered around the barracks for the officer he had favored. The gum he chewed was now gray and flavorless. He waited, hoping to receive more sugar from the soldier.

Soon enough the officer emerged from the tent and walked up to the child saying: “Child, I hear your family has 4 chickens, if you bring me the 2 blond ones I will gift you the whole pack of gum,”

So the child ran all the way home. Tiptoeing around his father who was tending to the garden, he snuck into the coop, and grabbed the two most blond chickens. Holding them under his armpits as they squealed, he rushed all the way down the hill, back to the barracks. Handing the two chickens to the officer who brought them to his superior.

“Good child! Now the commander will be happy to have fried eggs every morning for breakfast” The officer reached into his duffel bag and pulled out a brand new pack of yellow Juicy Fruit chewing gum, handing it to the child.

The child chewed gum and lay on the black sandy beach all night with his friends as the ash touched their lips, seeing who could blow the biggest bubble of them all.

Come afternoon the next day, all of the townspeople and stationed soldiers were waiting for the clock to strike 5 pm so they could head back to their homes or places of leisure, and surely at five, the church bells rang. However, there was no plume of smoke in sight. All of the people of the town began to look up and around in desperation, hoping that smoke would rise from the crater, although none ever came and the sky remained the brightest of blues.

As night fell there was still no sign of an eruption and the townspeople knew that the longer the volcano remained dormant, the bigger the eruption was bound to be upon arrival. The soldiers, on the other hand, were not too worried, and carried on with their activities, smoking cigarettes and drinking beer. The children once again congregated around the entrance to the barracks to see what the soldiers had to offer.

For six days there was no eruption, making people on the island more worried as they could hear the Earth shaking beneath their feet. The soldiers continued to drink at the barracks, but fewer and fewer children would show up to loiter each night.

On the sixth night, the child walked down the hill to the garrison. He was the only one there and the soldiers seemed especially drunk this evening, throwing their bottles against the stone wall which marked the entrance to the town. Upon noticing the kid, the drunk officer half-hazardly walked over to him and spoke: “Everybody is waiting for the volcano to erupt but you are still here” He burped and continued: “If you do me one last favor, I will give you all of the chewing gum that I have brought to this God-forsaken island. Now, will you run home and fetch me your mother's silver rosary?”

The child, a bit perplexed as to how the lieutenant knew of his mother's rosary, was cautious at first, but having grown addicted to the juicy sweetness of the gum, he could not control himself and ran home nonetheless. Tiptoeing across the kitchen to his mother who lay asleep on the couch with the radio on, he carefully unclasped the rosary from her neck.

The child then ran back to the port on the other side of town where the lieutenant was stationed, and holding the swaying rosery from his clenched fist, passed it on to the lieutenant who inspected it closely before dropping it into his duffel bag. “I'll be right back with your reward…”

While the child waited and watched as the soldiers drank wine and ate eggs with bacon, he turned around to see that his town had changed so much in such little time. As there was no ash on which the crops depended, everything had begun to wilt, and many of the townspeople were packing their bags, both in fear of an eruption and impending poverty.

When he turned back towards the tent he noticed that the lieutenant had left his duffle by the entrance with his mother's rosary exposed. Without thinking too long, he grabbed the bag. Just as he began to back away, the lieutenant emerged. They both froze for a moment, then the child turned and started to run. Three officers chased him.

He ran all the way through the town, passed his friends, then passed his father, and passed his mother, all the way to the top of the western edge of the volcano, coming to a halt where the cliff dropped off into the crater.

He turned and there stood the three soldiers who began to slowly surround him. As he inched closer and closer to the mouth, the church bells began to ring. Immediately, the ground began to shake as the volcano let out a blaring roar. Then, the child took one last step and fell backwards into the mouth of the volcano.

As he was falling, the child, who still had not spit out the massive glob of gum that he had been chewing all week, gasped in one last big breath of air mixed with gas and vapor and blew with all his lungs had to offer, just as the volcano began to erupt. So, the bubble of gum, made even more buoyant by this mix of air, vapor and gas, stopped his fall and began to lift him up and out of the crater, chased by the hot lava. The soldiers were preparing for their descent when, much to their amazement, out of the volcano emerged the child, suspended by his big bubble of gum.

As he floated through the clouds, the child watched as the lava flowed relentlessly over the Island’s west side. He prayed that his family and friends were safe and swore that one day he would return.

Return.