Page 92 of Wild Life

“Ahh, but I want to stay with Marina.”

“You can while I hold her, and let Mommy sleep.”

“You don’t have to do that, babe,” Maris said. “I’m enjoying this quiet time with all of you.”

She was going to sleep. I’d make sure of it. “It’s important that you rest when she’s resting.”

She laughed softly. “You sound like a parenting book.”

“I should. I reread the one we used when you were pregnant with Forrest.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re obsessive.”

“Protective. There’s a difference. And you really should rest. I can feed Forrest too, so he has something to occupy himself with.”

“Can I eat mangoes?” Forrest asked excitedly.

“No mangoes for dinner,” I said. “You’ll be bouncing off the walls when it’s time to go to sleep.”

“Sugar doesn’t make kids hyper,” Maris said. “They’ve proven that.”

“I don’t believe it.” My mother used to always say that sugar made kids hyperactive, and it had been ingrained into my head as fact.

“Don’t make me eat salted fish,” Forrest whined.

“It’s good for you,” I countered.

Forrest stuck out his tongue. “It tastes bad.”

“Then don’t eat dinner.” I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Ugh, fine.”

“He’s your kid,” I said, casting Maris a judgmental glance.

“I’m totally fine with that.” She kissed Forrest’s head. “How was Poaka when you went to check on him?”

I treaded carefully with my answer so as not to stress her out. Her recovery was important, and it was my job not to worry her with things out of her control, so I lied to the love of my life. “He was fine.”

How could I tell the woman I loved that our beloved animal had died…but then would come back to life…again?

Of the many things on this island that were strange, Poaka was the most curious case. I had met him when I was a child and had thought that he was just a pig. When he had died the first time, I had been heartbroken. My only companion had been ripped away, further deepening the wounds left by my deceased parents. Living by myself had seemed impossible—until Poaka had returned to me.

I hadn’t realized it was him at the time, since he had arrived outside my tent as an energetic piglet who soon pulled me out of my depression. Except, then I had started noticing signs, like the same configuration of spots in his fur, and how he seemed to know exactly where he was going to find water, or his favorite patch of mushrooms, or how excited he behaved when I named him Poaka, too.

My suspicions had only strengthened when I had lost the new Poaka. And like clockwork, he had reappeared again as a piglet, as if just waiting for me to let him in.

Poaka was not just my buddy, but my guardian angel. In every iteration of life, he found me. And it was only a matter of time before he found me again. The island truly had a way of taking care of me.

I had never shared the truth about him with Maris, because I had thought I’d have more time. This cycle had already lasted longer than past ones.

It was time to tell my family Poaka’s secret. I would share it with Maris later tonight when Forrest was asleep, then we could explain it to him together in the morning, before he interrogated me about where his best friend was.

As had happened before, I heard a faint screech outside.

I opened the front door, and on the doorstep was a little creature.

Forrest gasped. “Is that a baby pig?” He ran to the threshold and sat on his haunches, sticking his finger out for the visitor.

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