The Gypsy Comet

by London, Lia

  “There you go. Ropes and sallies, so you can take off those hot boots. Island hop passes are in the outside pocket. Hope the rest of your stay gets better.”

  My mouth dropped open. “It already has, thank you,” I assured her.

  I couldn’t believe my luck as I stepped back into the sunshine, now wearing a bright pink and green floral sheath dress, clean underclothes, and a pair of sallies—the local sandals made from sea kelp. I didn’t love the footwear but appreciated the fact I now blended in with the natives almost perfectly. In a day or two more, the sun would tan my skin to match theirs. I might be able to sell to more auspicious clients, dignitaries at the resorts who found herbal remedies amusing and trendy. The backpack contained my own clothing and enough dresses and shorts to last a week.

  Of course, if the Boss assumed I was a tourist, he would not anticipate me staying much longer. Tourists came and went quickly, lured by the hospitality to spend more than they might otherwise. The Bosses of Ikekane had long since learned which amenities to provide free for all and which to charge for. Supply and demand meant metal, fuel, and electricity were at a premium, and this meant the island hop passes were extremely valuable. Natives could board across the water from one atoll to another, but visiting tourists relied on chartered boats.

  Thus, clothed, tended, and fed, I ambled back up to Mama Biddy’s food stand, having spent none of my own earnings yet. Ruefully, I wondered if Saloma’s assessment were true. Did the natives give the stationary visitors special treatment?

  “Heya!” called Alegre. She sat in one of the woven chairs, her feet barely extending past the edge.

  “Heya,” I said, pinching her toes playfully. “What do you think of my new ropes?”

  She grinned and slapped her chest. “Like mine.”

  “Oh, heya!” called Mama Biddy from the window. “Don’t you look nice?”

  She and Mittur bantered approvingly about what they assumed were my purchases, and Mama Biddy frowned at the bruises creeping out from the neckline of the dress. “Ow. That must be painful. Why were you helping us with the chairs if you were hurt?”

  “It’s really no trouble,” I lied.

  “No, no. We’ll manage without you.” Mittur resumed his endless chopping. “Are you staying in Haikou or Kohala tonight?”

  My gaze flickered to the distant hill and back. “Maybe on my way back through.”

  Mama Biddy slapped juicy fingers on her apron to wipe them clean. “You’re already moving on?”

  “If the divers have moved west, I should follow. I’ll need to trade for some pearls, if I can.”

  They both grunted their understanding, and I hastened to add, “I will be back through to visit you.”

  Mama Biddy grinned and elbowed Mittur. “She’s a good ubb, isn’t she?”

  He murmured his agreement, and we stood in amiable silence.

  “Well, I’d best head out and see if I can charter across before nightfall.”

  “You got a pass?”

  “I do.”

  Mittur bobbed his head. “That’s good. You shouldn’t be rowing in your condition.”

  I bid them a fond good-bye, and as I walked away, I could hear Mama Biddy exclaim, “She looks like one of us, doesn’t she? Why are some gypsies so sweet and some so bitter?”

  I could ask the same of stationaries, and I thanked the stars I’d found both colonists and a spacey disposed to be kind.

  10 ~ The Diver

  The crossing to the next atoll filled my lungs with salty air and a sense of freedom. I closed my eyes and relished the cooling rush of wind over my skin, smiling at the nervous comments from my fellow passengers. Many stationaries from Caren and Craggy feared the water, but unless it was stormy, people on Tye generally trusted it. It represented their livelihood, the source of so much food and even clothing materials.

  Our motorized skiff crunched onto the nearest pebbly beach, and I thanked the captain.

  “Right up those steps is the Terrella Resort,” he said, matter-of-factly. Undoubtedly most of his tourist passengers intended that as their destination, but I suspected Rafini, about a third of the way around to the north, was more to my liking. Also, I needed to procure the pearls before I bartered anything with posh vacationers.

  I strode past the grand gated entrance of the resort and followed the rim road towards the setting sun. About halfway to Rafini, I spotted a middle-aged gypsy woman with a young boy. She wore bright vests and scarves, but the boy, clad in shorts, could be native or gypsy. A thick mop of damp curls tumbled past his ears, and his piercing eyes met me. By the shape of his teeth, I guessed him to be about half my age.

  “Heya!” I called.

  “There’s a gypsy!” he cried, tugging at the woman’s elbow.

  “Good eye, Maddy.”

  I stopped short and gave myself a quick appraisal. “How did you know? My hair is smoothed, and my clothes are native.”

  “Further confirmation.” The woman chuckled. She waved me over to where she sat on a large rock.

  “Your skin says you’re not a spacey,” said the boy. “Your gait says you’re not a colony tourist, and you walked right past the resort.”

  “Then why couldn’t I be a native?” I challenged with a grin. This was an observant little boy.

  “You said clothes, not ropes, and you forgot to clap when you greeted us.”

  I clapped to spite him, keeping a twinkle in my eye. “Well done. Are you a gypsy detective, then? I didn’t think this was a place with much crime.”

  The woman stifled a cynical laugh. “If you’re a stationary, you’re fine.”

  “But not if you’re a gypsy?”

  With a weary shrug, she adjusted her skirts. “It’s still mostly safe, but if there’s a problem where a gypsy is a victim, don’t count on the authorities helping much.”

  The news saddened me, so I returned to the original subject. Gesturing to the boy, I beamed. “So, if you’re not a detective, what do you do?”

  He puffed out his scrawny chest. “I’m a diver.”

  “He retrieved four red-armored oysters yesterday,” said the woman with obvious pride. She turned to me. “This is my son, Maddy. I’m Ninetta. Isn’t it a fine day after such a terrible storm last night?”

  I positioned myself facing away from the low rays of sun and agreed. After a few moments of pleasantries, I fixed my eyes on Maddy. “Were there pearls in any of the oysters you brought up?”

  His brow dimpled. “Not this time.”

  “Have there ever been?”

  He stiffened. “They’re very rare, you know.”

  “I do know. Just breaking the oysters free is supposed to be very difficult, so you must be strong. How long can you hold your breath?”

  “Almost three minutes now.”

  His declaration sucked the air out of my own lungs. “That’s… amazing!”

  “He’ll make four minutes by the time he’s grown,” said Ninetta. “I’ve never seen a swimmer like him. He’s part fanep.”

  This intrigued me, but I calculated the time it would take me to get to Rafini and knew I couldn’t stay to chat much longer. “Where are you camping?” I asked.

  They both pointed vaguely down the slope to the ocean’s waves. I wondered for the first time why gypsies always camped on the outside of the rings, never by the lagoons.

  “Did you keep the oysters alive?”

  “We ate them for supper last night,” said Ninetta.

  “Too bad. I’d have loved to trade for them.”

  “I’ll dive again tomorrow,” said Maddy.

  “Wonderful! Can I watch you?” I held up an appeasing hand when I saw the mistrust in his eyes. “I promise you I’m not a diver scouting a better fishing hole. Nor is anyone in my family. We mostly hail from Caren.”

  Ninetta’s eyes narrowed. “Are you with Saloma?”

  “I’ve only met her twice. She’s …” I waited for Ninetta to finish my sentence, hoping to gauge her opinion.

&n
bsp; “Interesting,” she offered.

  Chuckling at my failed attempt at diplomacy, I hummed my agreement. “Are you part of her network?”

  “I’ll wait to see what it becomes,” said Ninetta indifferently.

  “That’s a wise strategy.” I turned to Maddy. “Where shall I meet you tomorrow to watch you dive?”

  “You’ll not camp with us tonight?” offered Ninetta.

  I gave her a wry grin. “I probably spent a little too long on the Arxon. The idea of a hot shower is calling to me, so I’ll rent a room at least for tonight.”

  Ninetta smiled, jutting her chin at me. “Those are some bad bruises. Do you need some pearl powder?”

  My eyes popped. “You have some?”

  “I will by tomorrow,” she said, patting Maddy’s head. “I have confidence in my son.”

  OOO

  The next morning, I headed out on the rim road in sallies and another floral sheath dress to find Ninetta and Maddy. With my satchel slung around my neck and dangling in front of me, I carried sacks of food in either hand, purchased with the currency I’d not used for supplies. I left the backpack under the bed in my room at the inn, chagrined to note my stationary blood preferred the luxuries of running hot water, electricity, and beds to the gypsy life of camping. My attempts to rationalize the choice due to my injuries fell flat, even in my own head, but why did I have to adopt all gypsy ways if I’m only half gypsy?

  Wispy curls of smoke guided me to Ninetta’s cozy campfire, wedged between two tide pools.

  “Heya!” I called. “You’ve got quite a convenient arrangement there.”

  Ninetta stood and waved. “Yes, it’s a tank of fresh food right beside the cook stove.”

  I made my way down to her, careful not to slip since I didn’t have free hands to catch myself. “Is there anything good in there?” I glanced in the shallow basin of captured saltwater to see fronds of kelp splaying like a fat flower.

  “Would you believe we found a translucent sea cucumber?”

  “Excellent luck!”

  Maddy poked at the boiling liquid with a wooden spoon. “High protein and low fat. Very good for divers.”

  I suppressed a smile. “Your mother has taught you nutrition well. But are you sure you wouldn’t prefer a bulbous squid worm instead?” I teased.

  To my surprise, he didn’t make the gagging noises most children made at the suggestion. He simply shook his head. “There isn’t enough meat on those to be worth the effort of catching them.”

  Ninetta laughed. “He tried tying a trailing net to his ankle one day while diving. He caught a few squid worms, the ones fat enough not to wriggle through the mesh.”

  “And you ate them?” I gasped. “You didn’t mind all the squiggly bits?”

  “Ma mashed them up in a stew, so it wasn’t so bad.”

  “You’re a master of the culinary arts if you can make squid worms palatable,” I said, smiling at Ninetta. “Maybe I can learn some things from you.” The weight in my hands reminded me of my errand. “In the meantime, I brought some things to supplement your breakfast. Do you like goehy dough?”

  As expected, Maddy’s eyes lit up. Goehy dough, made from a sticky rice grown on the islands west of us, was a local favorite. Cooked or raw, it could be formed into any shape and seasoned to be savory or sweet as desired.

  “Perhaps we can wrap it around some fruit.” I shook the bag in my left hand. “Fry it up for a treat?” As I spoke, I briefly lamented the loss of my cook kit, now resting on the ocean floor with my clothes.

  Ninetta beamed. “There now, Maddy. What a wonderful reward for when you bring up some more oysters.”

  “Where do you dive?” I asked, settling down beside them on the bumpy rock.

  Ninetta and I unpacked the food while Maddy discussed the merits of different diving spots he’d found. My eyes drifted to the water line, where knee-high breakers rolled over tiny pebbles and broken shells.

  “You never dive in the lagoons? I would think the sandier bottoms would mean more chance of pearls. Those loose grains, you know.”

  “The lagoons are fresh water,” objected Maddy.

  “Not this one.” I gestured to the south. “It opens to the sea on the far side.”

  Maddy frowned thoughtfully. “The only spots deep enough would be out in the middle, and I need to have a place to rest.”

  “So? Take a board out.” Ikekane atolls all offered racks of colorful surfboards for community use.

  “And leave it drifting while I search? What if I lose it?”

  “Can’t Ninetta go out with you? Keep the board tethered to hers?”

  Ninetta interrupted with a chuckle as she retrieved a knife from her supplies. “I can’t take our whole household out on the water. What if we capsize? I’d lose everything.”

  “Ah, yes. And you can’t leave it all here.”

  “Not with only two of us. No one would be here to prevent someone from stealing our things, and if they did, who would help us?” She met my eyes. “What about you?”

  “You want me to guard your goods?”

  Ninetta bit her lower lip. “Or maybe you could go out on the boards with Maddy.”

  My shoulders wanted nothing to do with rowing a board out on the lagoon, but the opportunity to watch Maddy intrigued me. “Will you share your recipes for pearl blends when we get back?”

  Ninetta grinned. “I’ll share the crushed pearl!”

  OOO

  I panted as we paddled out into the lagoon, cursing myself for consenting to go. My shoulders and collarbones still ached with every stroke, but if he found a pearl—even one—it would be worth the pain. “Do you ever get frightened of the things swimming around with you?”

  “Mostly the fish ignore me. They’re pretty anyway.”

  “No gouldings?”

  “Not in these warmer waters. I see faneps, though. They’re bigger, and so are their teeth.”

  I shuddered. “Have they ever attacked?”

  “No, but sometimes they’ll swarm beside me, just watching me.”

  “And that doesn’t scare you? What if they misinterpret your actions and think of you as a threat?”

  Maddy paused, rocking upright to sit. “I don’t think so. They seem to know me, know what I’m doing.”

  I didn’t hide my skepticism. “They’re that sentient?” Did he know that word? “They’re smart like people?”

  Maddy gave me a sideways glance. “How smart are people, really?”

  Grinning, I returned to the labor of pulling the board closer to the center. The clear waters grew darker with depth as the sandy, submerged crater below plunged away from the sunlight. “Do you think this is far enough?”

  Maddy kneeled on all fours, peering over the side of his board with discerning eyes. He pointed a little to our right. “The dark patch over there.”

  “You don’t wear goggles?”

  He shrugged, peeling off his shirt. “The water’s clear enough.” He tied his shirt to the small tether rope of the board and stood up with perfect balance. “I’ll be back in three minutes.” Executing a beautiful, splash-less dive, he sank rapidly below the surface and became nothing more than a shadow.

  I exhaled my amazement and scooped the water up to my aching shoulders.

  All around us at the edges of the lagoon, activity increased. A sail sliced through the breeze on one side, a quiet motor hummed and pushed a speedboat behind. Clusters of people on boards ventured out into the shallows near the resort, and not far away, fishermen on a bright blue sloop cast wide nets over the sides. The serenity of the view, the warm air, and the gentle rocking of the board beneath me lulled my weary mind into a fuzzy, unfocused state.

  When a motor boat veered into my peripheral vision, I jolted into awareness.

  “Maddy!” I called out. Hadn’t it been more than three minutes? “Maddy!”

  I scanned the gleaming waters closest to me, arcing back and forth with a little more distance each time. My pulse quickene
d, and I gripped the side of my board with white knuckles. Leaning as far as I dared, I searched for him.

  Nothing straight below, nothing to my right.

  With horror, I saw movement to my left. Flecks of color flashed in an otherwise dark cloud, and then something passed beneath me. A shape—a tiny child—swam to join the swirling mass.

  A fanep?

  I screamed and jumped in before I could think. Maddy was in danger, and it was my fault for suggesting he dive here. Panicking at my own reckless move, I grasped at the board tethers, one in each hand, and hung between them. My shoulders argued with every twitch as I buried my face in the water to see the action below. My hair sliced into my eyes, and I blinked into the air again, swiping at the sting with the back of my arm.

  Just as I grabbed the tether with my free hand, Maddy burst to the surface a few meters away. Gasping, he called out for help, and I kicked as hard as I could to propel both boards to him. A moment later, he gripped one of the boards, and I used my knees to shove him upward until he scrambled to safety.

  With searing pain, I heaved myself onto the board and flopped down onto my stomach.

  Maddy and I both lay on our boards, coughing and breathing hard in the sudden stillness. All around us, the lagoon showed no signs of distress. No evidence a lethal school of faneps almost killed a little boy.

  My board bumped against Maddy’s, and I reached out to hold his hand, holding us together. “What happened down there?” I asked, weak with worry.

  His face squished against the board, but his lips opened to reveal a broad smile. “I got some,” he said. “Big ones. You were right. This is the perfect place to dive!”

  “But you were almost killed. The faneps—”

  “They pulled me to the surface when I wasn’t going to get there in time. I took too long gathering, but the faneps pushed me up.” He lifted himself onto his elbows. “I told you they knew what I was doing.”

  “You… they…?” I gaped into the waters, now calm.

  “I guess the faneps are my ubbs.” He rolled to his side and fished into the pocket of his shorts with difficulty. At last he extracted an oyster, and then another, and three more.