Dragons Awakening
CHAPTER EIGHT: Flying toward a Volcano

Akolo glanced at his father, still working away on his computer. Over the hum of tires against the pavement, he couldn’t hear his father’s mutters. But he saw his lips move. Warmth greater than evening sun flooded his chest, giving Akolo reason to smile.

“A driver from the center will meet you at the Naples terminal.” Uncle Oke never looked away from the crush of Kailua-Kona traffic.

“Okay.” A crimp in Akolo’s stomach reminded him it had been years since he traveled internationally. Since moving from the mainland, he hadn’t even been on a plane.

“Are you sure about this?” Oke lowered his voice, glancing in the rear view mirror.

Like his father was paying attention to their conversation. A bomb could go off beside them, and his father wouldn’t notice.

Akolo nodded, even though he wasn’t sure of anything. “I’ll work at the lab with him.”

“Occupational credits since you’re leaving school early.”

Not that Akolo cared about school. The air conditioned Jeep felt like a sauna.

“My reputation is on the line,” his uncle said. “I hate to put so much pressure on you, but I’m tied to the university for now.”

“No worries.” Too bad his stomach didn’t get that news flash. “I’m excited to learn more about Mom and Dad’s hypothesis.”

After a beat of silence when Uncle Oke’s jaw jumped, his uncle shrugged. “If anyone can figure out what these escalations mean, it’s the genius my sister married.” He quirked his head toward the back seat. As if Akolo didn’t know who he was talking about.

“I’ve got this.” Akolo hoped his bravado convinced his uncle, wished it could convince him, too. “We’re going to work night and day until Dad can predict the next big event.”

His uncle glanced at him, his fingers tightening around the steering wheel. “I’m counting on you.”

Expectations sat like a monkey on Akolo’s back. Everyone was depending on him. “So be dependable,” his mother chided.

The Jeep slid to a stop at the terminal’s crowded curb. Uncle Oke unloaded their bags from the back while his father stuffed his laptop into the messenger-style bag from his mother. Akolo dropped his backpack-style computer bag on top of the raggedy duffel bag containing all the clothes he owned. After shaking his father’s hand, Uncle Oke pulled Akolo into a one-armed hug.

“You’re a good son,” he whispered. “Your mom would be proud.”

Akolo pressed his hands against his stomach. His chin quivered when he said, “Hang loose, Uncle Oke.”

A final slap to his shoulder and Uncle Oke hopped in the Jeep. Akolo forced air into his constricting lungs. He grabbed his dad’s arm and pointed him toward the nearest revolving door.

Akolo weaved through the hustle and bustle, deafened to the chaos of anxious travelers. Herding his dad in the right direction kept memories of his last journey through an airport from drowning him. Security checkpoint, moving floors, a tram to a more distant terminal, and eventually, their gate.

In the air at last, the pressure swelled in Akolo’s ears. Beside him, his father pulled out his laptop, not waiting for the okay from the stewardess. In minutes, he hunched over his keyboard.

In the light cast by the glowing computer screen, Akolo studied his father. His hair was shorter than it had been five years ago, freshly cut and neatly combed into place. Sallow-skinned pallor indicative of alcoholics had been replaced by flushed cheeks. The eager eyes glued to the computer and indecipherable muttering soothed like aloe on a burn.

A chime sounded over the intercom. They were welcome to use electronic devices, it said. Akolo grinned. His backpack was wedged under the seat in front of him. Time to scan the information he’d been downloading over the past few days. No use pretending to be his father’s assistant if he didn’t know anything about the geological state of the world.

Akolo stared at the huge document of news clippings. News stories reported the facts of the various incidents. Make that the facts the experts and the government released to the media. Several articles from an Italian journal speculated about the rumblings from the volcanoes on the Apennine Peninsula. Until the past two decades, most of the mainland volcanoes lay dormant and only the offshore islands offered eruptions of any note. For a month, not a single day had passed without rumblings in one of the Apennine Mountains.

A stewardess stopped beside the seat in front of them, handing the man seated there two small liquer bottles. Akolo’s father stared at them, licking his lips. Not good.

“Could we get Coke?” Akolo asked the woman when she started past them.

“A few more minutes before we begin drink service.”

Then why was she giving that guy alcohol? His father stared at the back of the man’s head. Not the sign of a man cured of his thirst for strong drink.

Akolo elbowed his father and craned his neck to look at the list of numbers on his dad’s screen. He’d be cross-eyed in ten minutes if he had to stare at that, but if it kept his dad’s mind of drinking. He jabbed his father again.

“Dad.”

His father blinked at him. Akolo waited. His dad’s eyes focused on his face.

“For thirty days, there has been an earthquake or steam venting or something around Mt. Vesuvius.” He pointed to the document on his screen. “Can anywhere else in the world say that?”

“Iceland. Hawaii.”

“How about something other than a volcanic island, Dad?”

His father cupped his chin, staring at the back of the seat in front of him. Was he going to fixate on the man again? He raised an eyebrow, holding Akolo’s gaze. “You have a hypothesis. Now prove it.”

Akolo groaned and threw his head against the seat. His uncle was right. This was going to be like going to school.

His father leaned back, keeping his attention fixed on Akolo. “What sort of data would you look at first?”

“I wanted to give you a heads-up, not start my own study.”

His father raised his eyebrows. “A good assistant doesn’t bother the scientist without having factually-supported postulations.”

Postulations was it? As long as it didn’t involve mixed drinks, it had potential. “Fine.” Akolo rolled his eyes, happy to play the disgruntled student to his father’s dedicated teacher role. “Maybe the Alaskan readings. Any other continental-based eruptions recently?”

His father nodded. He mumbled while searching through the pockets of his computer bag. “Where is that portable drive?”

Akolo unzipped the front of his bag. Three thumb-sized devices lined up like sentries in the pocket designed for them. He handed one to his dad, who plugged into his own machine. His dad placed the thumb drive on the base of Akolo’s laptop, where Akolo popped it into the USB port.

Akolo tried to focus on the data, but his mind wandered.A sideways glance assured him his dad had returned to studying his data-filled screen. Was it enough to block out the grief and desire for drink? Vesuvius represented a huge challenge, just what his dad needed to break away from the ugliness. Considering the massive number of earthquakes and eruptions, around the clock analysis of the data would take weeks.

Another glance toward his dad. He shuffled his screen so the table of data rested side-by-side with an empty spreadsheet. Getting ready to migrate pertinent data again.

So far, the plan seemed to be working. As long as no one offered his dad a drink.

The glow of his laptop beckoned. Time to dive into the ocean of facts and figures. What was happening to the planet? A little study time and he could replace something to explain the chaotic volcano epidemic.

Akolo’s ears popped and he rolled his shoulders. Everything was going to work out according to his plan.