The Atua Man

by John Stephenson

  The dancers went through the moves of sexual foreplay and followed the drummers’ every rhythm until the drums stopped. The dancers stood in place, panting. The drums began again, and the dancers walked around the circle, men in one direction and women in the other. One woman stopped in front of David, grabbed his arm, and pulled him up. She placed her hands on David’s hips, showing him what to do. A sexy young guy pulled Melanie from the crowd and did the same; soon she was gyrating her hips in a figure eight to the rhythm of the drums. All around the circle dancers were pulling new people onto the tohua. The Hiva people knew the movements. The beauty who had danced with the hunter chose Jason. The beat picked up, and the dancing created clouds of dust.

  Larry caught it all on film. He was zooming in on Melanie when her dance partner reached around her back and cut her bikini strap with a piece of shell. Melanie tried to hang on to her top, and at the same time, shove the boy away. Larry dropped his camera. He ran up to help Melanie, but the young Hiva man gave Larry a shoulder check that knocked Larry to the ground. Then the kid grabbed Melanie and pulled her from the circle. Larry charged the boy, seized him around the waist, and tore him away from Melanie, still desperately clinging to her top. David rushed over to help.

  “We’re leaving. This is going to get ugly,” Larry put his arm around his daughter, protectively, as they shoved their way toward the landing. “Get Jason.”

  David pushed his way back through the crowd to where he’d last seen Jason. Jason and the Hiva girl were gone. Dave struggled on through the mob, heading toward the far end of the tohua, toward the haka‘iki’s house. A Hiva boy, much larger than David, grabbed David from behind and pinned his arms to his side. The boy began kissing David on the neck. David struggled but couldn’t break the boy’s grip. At that moment, the girl he’d been dancing with staggered up to him and pulled down his shorts. She was naked. The boy let go of David and chased the girl, who ran away laughing, loving the game.

  David took a step in the other direction but tripped over his shorts. Another girl ran over and jumped on him. They stumbled around in a cloud of groping kids. After a month at sea, David was aroused. The girl grabbed his cock and wanted to pull him on top of her right there. It was not the time, nor place, and David had to rescue Jason. Duty, and all his Baptist conditioning forced David to shove the girl away. She ran off and David pulled up his trunks and cinched them tight. He spotted Jason and the gorgeous dancer stride up the hill, leaving the commons. David ran after them. Before he could get close, however, two of the haka‘iki’s guards blocked his way. He yelled after his buddy, but Jason didn’t look back. The guards pushed David into the frenzied circle. A moment later he heard the air horn blaring from the landing. He reluctantly raced back to shore.

  Larry had managed to get Melanie out of the circle and to the boat ramp. Protecting his daughter from handful of oversexed adolescents, he blew the horn again. He needed David there to bring the dinghy. David shoved his way through the crowd and moments later showed up.

  “Where the fuck is Jason?” Larry shouted.

  “I couldn’t get to him.”

  “Forget him. Swim out to the boat and bring back the dinghy.”

  Not again, David thought. “We can’t leave him.”

  “You’ll never find him in that madness. He’s probably been taken away by now anyway.”

  David just stood there, torn. Jason had been taken away.

  “For the last time, Dave, we need a way out of here!” Larry said. “These people won’t take us back to the boat.

  David looked at Melanie and she nodded for him to do as her father said. She was terrified.

  David dove into the water. It was dark and the flickering light from the bonfire and torches danced over the waves. The drums grew louder, and he swam faster, feeling like Tommo in Melville’s novel Typee escaping from the cannibals. It was a long swim, with the surge taking him this way and that before he finally reached the boat.

  On shore, the haka‘iki cornered Larry, and the boys bothering Melanie melted back into the circle. He begged Larry not to take Melanie from the ceremony. She wouldn’t be hurt. And besides, the wild melee was all part of the preparation for the sacred ritual that Jacques wanted Larry to film. But Larry was now enraged.

  “It’s my fault, Melanie.” Larry held his daughter close, wary of the bodyguards gathering around the haka‘iki. “I should have asked more questions before I gave the haka‘iki that note.”

  “What did the note say?”

  “I’ll tell you later. Right now, we need our dinghy. Where the hell is David.”

  David climbed on board Mata‘i and lowered the dinghy. He’d barely caught his breath as he lowered Mata‘i Iti over the side, unhooked the tackle, and started rowing back to shore. Then the drumming stopped. When he reached the boat ramp a squad of armed men had surrounded Larry and Melanie—native warriors gripping wooden spears. David could see nothing modern in that picture. The men looked like the savages Melville had described. David rode the back of a swell up the boat ramp and grounded the dinghy as close as he could get to Larry and Melanie. He jumped out as the water began to recede and held onto the painter, keeping the dinghy from drifting back out to sea.

  “Turn it around,” Larry ordered.

  David did as he was told and wondered why they weren’t all taken captive. Was the haka‘iki afraid of Larry?

  “You’re making a big mistake,” Larry shouted, still speaking French. “That boy isn’t the one we thought he was. You’ll kill him and destroy any chance you have of reviving your culture.”

  The haka‘iki was in Larry’s face as a phalanx of warriors closed in on them. “The elders and Tuhuna O’ono met him. They disagree. He is the one,” the haka‘iki shouted back at Larry. “You tested him. He meets all the requirements. He has the gifts.”

  “He’s not Polynesian!” Larry argued.

  “You said he was prepared. He knows the Kumulipo. He’s the best candidate we’ve ever had for the atua ritual. That’s why you came. Those were your orders from Hiva Oa.”

  “Bring Jason back to our boat tonight, before it’s too late.”

  “It’s already too late. Let your daughter and the boy stay. We will open their souls.”

  David could tell from the shouting that Larry had used Jason in some cruel way. Larry had brought them to this primeval place, and now Jason would complete the ritual without Larry filming it.

  Larry turned from the haka‘iki and stepped into his dinghy. One of the haka‘iki’s men handed Larry his camera. Larry helped Melanie into the dinghy, and on the next surge David pushed them out and rowed back to Mata‘i in the blackness of a moonless night.

  As soon as they were on board the yacht, Larry brought out his guns, the Winchester and the Colt. He didn’t want to talk about their situation, but Melanie and David insisted on it.

  David understood French better than Larry had realized, and he now confronted Larry with what had been said. “Jason was the chosen one? He was the best person for the atua ritual? The ritual that would kill him? You were planning Jason’s death!” Melanie was horrified. David grabbed Larry’s rifle from the cockpit and scampered aft to climb into the dinghy. “I’ll find him.”

  Larry blocked his way. He grabbed the rifle with a speed and force David didn’t expect from an old man, popped out the magazine, and put it in his pocket. “Sit down.”

  Melanie jumped up and stood next to David, facing down her father. “What were the other guns for? Are you hoping to start a revolution?”

  Larry shrugged. He forgot how timid Melanie’s generation was. Don’t make waves; just take care of me. “How disappointing you two are. You have no idea what it costs to be free.”

  “You can’t play with Jason’s life like this.”

  “This is no game, Dave. Those people don’t care about us. Hell, they don’t even like us.”

  David left the cockpit, grabbed his swim fins from the lazarette, and dove into the water. He looked up at Me
lanie, hoping she’d join him.

  “You do this, and they will kill you.” Larry stood at the rail hoping to block his daughter from diving off the boat. “They will rape my daughter and keep raping her until she’s pregnant, and they’ll hold her hostage until she has a baby.”

  David looked toward shore and dozens of men stood ready to launch their canoes. Behind them was a frenzy of lovemaking and shouting.

  “This is insane,” Melanie cried. “We can’t leave him.”

  “He’s already dead.” Larry moved to embrace his daughter.

  Melanie let out a sob and pushed her father away. He grabbed a shroud to keep from falling overboard. He stared back to the shore and saw men carrying canoes to the boat ramp. “We need to get the anchor up without a sound. You two do that now.”

  “Everything is a lie with you,” Melanie cried, beating on her father’s back. “You think you’re doing good. You think you’ve enabled J.J.’s rise to glory, or some such shit. Oh fuck. You’re an idiot!”

  She crumpled onto the deck, hung over the rail and vomited.

  David looked to shore. A growing fleet of canoes pointed toward them. Machetes flashed in the firelight. “Do they have guns?”

  “I doubt it. Not from me, anyway,” Larry would not take his eyes off the natives.

  David climbed back onboard and put his arm around Melanie. He’d never felt so trapped or useless in his life. “Maybe we can wait them out here. They wouldn’t come on the boat. We can see what happens in the morning.”

  The drums began again, this time a threatening war rhythm. The frenzy was no longer lustful; it was dangerous. The men lining the shore began slapping their bodies and chanting a haka, something all Polynesian people did before attacking.

  “I’m serious. Get the anchor onboard now. They can’t know we’re leaving, so no winch, no motor, no noise until we’re free.”

  David and Melanie went forward pulling up the anchor hand over hand. Slowly Mata‘i moved to a position directly over the hook. Larry kept an eye on the shore. At the first sign of canoes being launched toward them he was prepared to fire up the diesel and take the boat out. But Melanie and David couldn’t pull the anchor off the bottom. It was stuck.

  Larry quickly realized this. David slipped over the side, even though he was a poor diver. Melanie knew that he could not clear his ears and if he dove deeper than fifteen feet he’d be in great pain. Melanie started to slip over the side to help, but Larry grabbed her, holding her back.

  “I said for Dave to free it. Melanie you stay on deck.” This order was in a whispered shout.

  Things became more aggressive on shore; the warriors began pounding on their canoes with their paddles. It was a terrifying sound. On David’s first try he only got halfway to the bottom before his ears screeched. When David got back to the surface Larry said, “Be a man, Dave.”

  David fantasized swimming ashore and hiding in the jungle and rescuing Jason—it’s better to lose your life for a friend, but there was Melanie looking over the rail at him. His second try got him closer and he could make out what was hanging up the anchor. On the third try, with his ears screaming in pain, he was able to pull one of the flukes out of a hole and untangle the chain from a large rock. He gave the anchor line a tug, to signal Melanie, and a few seconds later the anchor and chain were free.

  He drifted to the surface, tasting blood in the back of his mouth and wondering if he’d ever hear again. Melanie secured the anchor. As soon as Larry saw David grab the gunwale, he started the motor. As David climbed on deck he glanced toward shore where the men began to push their canoes into the water. The first canoes hit the water with their outboard motors running. More canoes followed.

  Larry put Mata‘i in gear and powered toward the open sea with the throttle wide open. The yacht was not nearly as fast as the canoes with the outboard motors, but they had a fifty-yard head start. Larry gave David the helm and went aft with his Winchester. He took the magazine from his pocket, shoved it into the rifle, and chambered a round. He braced himself on the backstay and aimed at the lead canoe.

  Just as he was about to fire Melanie screamed and shoved his rifle toward the sky. “You are not going to kill anybody else!” The shot fired into the air and Larry shoved his daughter aside and took aim again. But the islanders had turned back.

  Larry yelled at his daughter. “Don’t you ever interfere with what I’m doing. Ever!” He set the safety on the gun and returned to the cockpit, Melanie on his heels, yelling, “You tell me what was in that note now!”

  After catching his breath and letting the adrenalin diminish, Larry spoke in a very measured manner. “Jacques told me that the people of Hakamaii were going to revive the ancient initiation ritual and that I should record it.” He paused. “That’s what was in the note I gave the chief. He told me not to be shocked, that it was just a reenactment.”

  “You’re a fucking nutcase jeopardizing us like this! And for what?” said David standing at the helm.

  “For the greater good! Jacques told me I’d understand when I saw the ritual.” Larry picked up the Colt from the cockpit seat and automatically popped the magazine and checked the ammunition. He shoved the clip back in the handle of the gun and shoved it into his pocket. This was so professional and so unthinking that David wondered what other secrets Larry had kept from them.

  Melanie was outraged. “You knew this was going to happen to Jason?”

  “I thought we were going to see a performance. That’s all. We thought we could help them restore their power, their mana. Perhaps that would have mitigated some of the damage done by our forefathers. I expect Jason will rise to the occasion.”

  “You’re such a fucking liar.” David’s anger rose to where he was out of breath. “You said J.J. was not the one! You brought him down here for this, didn’t you? All that bullshit about J.J. calming the sea was just a ruse. You were covering something up! What?”

  “You don’t have the consciousness to understand. I thought Jason did, but once we were out to sea, I knew that he didn’t. There are things these people can do that are mind-boggling. All the sex and stuff is meaningless. Granted, they want to expand the gene pool, but that’s easy. What the Hiva people truly want goes back to when the gods visited this planet. All spirituality comes from that source, and these people have a direct connection to it. I know that. If Jason really were the chosen one, these people would make him a new messiah, an atua man—if he survived the initiation. But I don’t think he is and there’s nothing I can do to save him. His fate is with the Tuhuna O’ono.”

  Melanie screamed at the top of her lungs. She was no longer his daughter. She would bring charges of murder against him. Her mother was right; he ruined everything he touched. She warned him never to talk to her again. Larry grabbed the rifle and took his weapons below to his cabin. Melanie stood over the companionway shrieking at him as Larry closed the hatch.

  David drove the Mata‘i straight out to sea, motoring at ten knots into a five-foot swell and traveling directly away from the valley. When Melanie had finished her rant, David asked her to take the helm. She did and he set the sails. When the sails were drawing, Melanie killed the motor. David went into the salon and studied the charts. He came back on deck and said, “Keep the island to the left and when we clear it, it’s due north to Taiohae.”

  “I hope the fucking French Navy is there. They can save J.J. and then execute Larry.”

  As Larry and the Mata‘i sailed away from Ua Pou, Jason and the dancer staggered up the east side of the valley with a horde of people, all intoxicated and full of lust. They entered a meadow ringed with ancient paepaes and towering breadfruit trees. Scattered around the meadow were woven mats for lovemaking. The Hiva girl striped off her headdress and leis and pressed her breasts against Jason’s bare chest. If she could have crawled under his skin, she would have.

  Around them, other couples copulated while still standing. She removed Jason’s shorts and pushed him down on the nearest mat.
Nothing but lust filled their minds. Jason would have this girl without a thought. Lillian was a world away, and his desire in the moment was all that mattered.

  Before they could begin their lovemaking, however, the tuhuna O’ono, the sacred priest, and three of his acolytes separated the couple. This was not the person to receive Jason’s seed. The girl, terrified of the priests, fled. The priest put a drug-soaked cloth into Jason’s mouth, and he became limp. The holy men dragged him to a me‘ae at the edge of the meadow overlooking the sacred valley. Tapu sticks forbade any but the priests to enter.

  Tiki images of the Hiva deities stood at the corners of the me‘ae. Atea, the father of the people, stood on one side of the altar, and Atanua, his wife, stood on the other. A wind blew over the open temple as the priest laid a listless Jason on a thick bed of smooth mats in the middle of the sacred space. Jason tried to get up, but the combination of the drug and kava semi-paralyzed him. The Tuhuna O’ono lit a brazier under the altar and in the soft light of the coals Jason saw ten girls sitting around the images of their gods. They were all naked. Some were just entering puberty.

  The priest began chanting and one of the girls was brought to Jason. She began arousing him. While kava relaxes the body, and is a mild aphrodisiac, the Tuhuna O‘ono squeezed another potion into Jason’s mouth from a small sponge. It was a powerful sexual stimulant made from ginger type roots and tree bark. Jason was hard in a few seconds. The girl, at this point, took his penis into her and danced on top of him until she felt him ejaculate. The tuhuna’s assistants watched and pulled the girl away as soon as they knew she had his seed. Before Jason could collapse, the priest moistened his lips with the drug sodden sponge. By the time the acolytes brought over another girl, Jason was ready again.