The Beach

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The Beach Page 21

by Alex Garland


  ‘Jed,’ I said, after a pause. ‘Do you think it would be OK if I told people about our run-in with the dope guard? It doesn’t involve Zeph and Sammy…’

  ‘Mmm.’

  ‘… See, I’m constantly being coy about what we’re doing up on the island. I sort of feel like this would be a chance for me to…’

  ‘Tell them,’ he interrupted. ‘No harm. It’s probably a good idea.’

  ‘Uh-huh?’

  ‘We don’t want it to seem like we’re hiding stuff from people.’

  ‘Great,’ I said, and started to whistle the first bars of the mouse song before catching myself.

  It was pitch-black back at the camp. What colour remained in the sky was entirely blocked out by the canopy ceiling. The only light came from candles through the open door of the longhouse and spatterings of red cigarette and joint butts, glowing in clusters around the clearing.

  Although I was looking forward to telling my ex-detail about the sleeping dope guard, my first thought was food so I aimed straight for the kitchen hut. Every day Unhygienix wrapped a couple of portions in banana leaf for me and Jed, and made sure we got some of the choicest bits of fish. It was cold by the time we’d get to it, but I was usually too hungry to mind. That night I noticed Unhygienix had added papaya to the stew, which irritated me slightly as it meant Bugs had succeeded in tracking down my orchard.

  After getting my parcel I walked around the clearing, joining the dots between the clusters of smokers, looking for my friends. Unusually, they were nowhere to be found, and nobody seemed to know where they were. Confused, I checked Keaty’s tent and then the longhouse, where I found Unhygienix, Cassie and Ella playing blackjack, and further up, Jesse writing in his diary.

  ‘Ah!’ said Unhygienix when he saw me, and pointed to my food. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘Of the stew?’

  ‘Yes. You notice the fruit? A good taste?’

  ‘Sure. Sweet and savoury. Very Thai.’

  Unhygienix beamed. ‘You know what I did? I made some papaya juice and stewed it with the fish, but I only put in the flesh in the last two minutes, or it falls apart in the heat. So this way you have the taste and the texture.’

  ‘Ah.’

  ‘And, Richard, we can have this again, because Jean will plant the seeds and we will grow papaya in the garden. I am very pleased with this dish.’

  ‘You should be. It tastes really good. Well done.’

  Unhygienix shook his head modestly. ‘You should be thanking Bugs.’

  ‘… Why’s that?’ I said suspiciously.

  ‘He discovered these papayas in the jungle.’

  I choked on a fish bone. ‘Bugs did what?’

  ‘In the jungle, he found a whole orchard of papayas and monkeys.’

  ‘No he didn’t!’

  ‘Yes. Yesterday, he found this orchard.’

  ‘I found the fucking orchard! I found it a couple of weeks ago!’

  ‘… Really?’

  ‘Was Bugs saying he found it?’

  ‘… Uh…’

  Cassie smiled. ‘Yes he was.’

  ‘That prick!’ In my temper I squeezed the banana leaf and some of the stew spilled on to the ground.

  ‘Careful,’ said Ella.

  I frowned, suddenly aware I was making quite a scene. ‘Well, anyway… he’s lying.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Cassie chuckled, laying down a long run from a three to a black Jack. ‘We don’t doubt it.’

  ‘… Good.’

  They went back to their game and I continued up the longhouse towards Jesse.

  ‘I heard,’ he said drily, as I approached. ‘Congratulations on finding the papayas.’

  ‘Yes, well, it isn’t a big thing. It just…’

  ‘Got on your nerves,’ he finished for me, and lowered his diary. ‘’Course it did. Understood. Are you looking for Keaty?’

  ‘… Yeah.’ I nodded morosely. As a consequence of the papayas my mood had gone bad. ‘And the others. I can’t find them. I think they’ve all gone off together somewhere.’

  ‘Right. He left me a message to give you.’

  ‘Oh,’ I said, perking up a bit. ‘Let’s hear it.’

  ‘It was a note. I put it on your bed.’

  I thanked him and jogged the rest of the way up the longhouse, keen to find out what was going on.

  The note was folded on my pillow, and beside it was a rolled joint. It read ‘Smoke this quick! Phosphorescence! Keaty!’

  I frowned. ‘Hey, Jesse,’ I called. ‘What does the note mean?’

  I waited while he finished writing, then he looked up. ‘Dunno, mate. Didn’t read it. What’s it say?’

  ‘Phosphorescence. And it’s got a joint.’

  ‘Ah.’ Jesse waggled his pencil at me. ‘Phosphorescence!’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘You don’t know?’

  ‘… No.’

  He smiled. ‘Go down to the beach. You’ll see. And make sure you smoke that joint on the way.’

  Phosphorescence

  I walked along the path to the beach as fast as I could, which wasn’t that fast because I didn’t want to bump into any tree-trunks or stub my foot on a root. At the same time I smoked the joint, practically hit and running it even though I was alone, because I felt like getting wasted and because Keaty had told me to smoke it quick.

  Meanwhile I seethed about the papayas, and pretty soon I was very stoned and deeply involved in a fantasy about beating up Bugs. In its earliest form the fantasy started off as just me and him, but soon I decided I needed an audience to bear witness to his humiliation. I added Françoise, then Jed and Keaty, then Étienne and Greg, and eventually the whole camp.

  It was a Sunday. It had to be a Sunday, because that was the only time you got the whole camp in one place. Most people were kicking a ball around, a few were swimming, and a few were playing Frisbee. I was standing with Françoise. We were sharing a joke when Bugs appeared from the tree-line with Sal, and three big papayas cradled in his arms.

  ‘Got some more papayas,’ he called. ‘Enough for everyone.’

  ‘Excuse me,’ I said quietly to Françoise. ‘Won’t be a moment.’

  He caught my eye as I strode towards him and did a double-take, recognizing the purposeful nature of my step and the grim set of my mouth. First he looked alarmed, then arrogant. He was going to bluff it out, I realized.

  ‘Yes,’ he said loudly, holding up the fruit for all to see, and still watching me from the corner of his eye. ‘Here are some more papayas that I found.’

  I stopped a metre away from him. ‘Papayas that you found, Bugs?’

  ‘That’s what I said.’

  ‘Uh-huh. Then how about we take a walk down to the orchard… right now.’

  His eyebrows flicked upwards. ‘… Now?’

  ‘Now. And I’ll show you the joint butt I left, when I found the orchard no less than two weeks ago!’

  Everyone gasped, including Sal. A crowd had formed a circle around us and Françoise had come running over to stand by my side. ‘Is this true?’ she demanded angrily.

  Bugs scoffed. ‘Of course not! He’s lying! I found the orchard!’

  ‘So how about that walk?’

  ‘I don’t have to prove myself to you!’

  ‘I think you do.’

  ‘Up yours. I found the orchard. End of story.’

  I smiled. ‘You know what, Bugs…?’ The silence was deathly, aside from the gentle lapping of the waves on the shore. ‘You’re kinda buggin’ me!’

  The crowd laughed and Bugs’ face twisted with rage. ‘Is that right?’ he sneered. ‘Well take this!’ A papaya hurtled towards my head but I ducked and it flew past me into the crowd.

  ‘Hey!’ someone yelled. ‘Watch it!’

  Bugs swore and made as if he was about to throw another, but quick as a flash I grabbed the Frisbee from Cassie, who was standing beside me, and hurled it with lethal accuracy. The papaya exploded at the impact. The remaining c
hunks slithered from his hand and fell to the sand, harmless.

  ‘Why you…’ he started to say, but I was already on him. I faked with a left and floored him with a right. He dropped like a sack of potatoes.

  Now he was scared. ‘I’m thorry,’ he yelped, holding a hand up to cup the blood splashing from his busted lips. ‘It’th true! I didn’t find the papayath! Richard did!’

  Slowly I bent down and picked the Frisbee up again, pausing to wipe away a few shreds of pulped papaya flesh. ‘Too late for that, Bugs,’ I muttered softly, almost kindly. ‘Too late…’

  He screamed but didn’t move, paralysed with fear like a rabbit in headlights. The Frisbee shot down and connected squarely with the bridge of his nose, shattering the bone. Then he rolled on to his side and scrabbled weakly at the sand, trying to crawl away. I kicked him on the back of the head and gave him four hard punches in the kidney.

  He whimpered. ‘Pleathe,’ he said. ‘Don’t.’

  A bad choice of words. My temper rose. Looking around me I spotted a fishing spear.

  ‘Rewind,’ I said, taking the last drag from the joint. ‘Can’t do that.’

  I sucked until the tips of my fingers burned, then threw away the roach and rewound back to my first punch.

  I faked with a left and floored him with a right. He dropped like a sack of potatoes.

  ‘I’m thorry,’ he yelped. ‘It’th true! I didn’t find the papayath!’

  ‘Say that again!’ I shouted, looming over him with the Frisbee poised.

  ‘I didn’t find them! You did! I’m thorry!’

  ‘Louder!’

  ‘You found the papayath!’

  I nodded curtly, and turned to Françoise. ‘Just wanted to set the record straight.’

  She glanced down at Bugs’ twitching figure. ‘Of course,’ she said briefly.

  ‘You want to swim out to the coral garden?’

  ‘Yes, Richard,’ she breathed, interlocking her arm with mine. ‘I would love to.’

  The fantasy might have happily continued from there, but the dead leaves and dirt under my feet had become sand. I’d reached the beach.

  It took me ages to find Keaty and the others. Even with the moonlight I couldn’t see them, and their laughter seemed to come from everywhere, spread evenly over the water and faintly echoing off the cliffs. But after twenty minutes of stoned wandering along the shore I finally pinned them down to a group of small boulders, a hundred metres out.

  As I couldn’t see them and they couldn’t see me, I decided there wasn’t much sense in calling out, so I slipped off my T-shirt and began swimming towards them. Gradually their figures became discernible in the darkness. They were all standing and bending over to look downwards into the water. Then – at roughly the moment I must have become visible to them – their laughter abruptly cut off, and as I got closer I saw that they had all turned to face my direction. ‘Hey!’ I said, finding their watchful silence a little eerie. ‘What’s up?’ They didn’t answer. I continued swimming and repeated the question, irrationally thinking they might not have heard me. When they didn’t answer again I stopped, treading water ten feet from the boulder. ‘Why aren’t you answering me?’ I said, puzzled.

  ‘Look down,’ Keaty replied after a moment or two.

  I paused, then looked. The water was as black as ink, except for where the moonlight caught the ripples. ‘… What’s to see?’

  ‘He is too close,’ I heard Étienne say.

  ‘No,’ said Keaty. ‘Richard, move your hands, just under the surface.’

  ‘OK…’ I did as he said. From the boulder I heard Françoise sigh, but I still couldn’t see anything past the blackness. ‘I don’t get it… What’s this about?’

  ‘Too close,’ Étienne repeated.

  Keaty’s silhouette scratched its head. ‘Yeah, you’re right… Come up on to the boulder, Richard. Watch me dive. We’ll show you…’

  At first I could see nothing but the disturbed water and reflected moonlight from where Keaty had vanished. Then, as the water settled, I began to see light below the surface. A milky glow at first that separated into a thousand tiny stars, next becoming a slowly moving meteor trail behind the brightest cluster. The cluster rose and turned back on itself, and turned again to form a glittering figure of eight. Then it sunk downwards, disappearing for several seconds.

  ‘What…?’ I said, baffled and astonished and unable to think of anything better to say.

  Françoise put her hand on my arm. ‘Wait,’ she whispered. ‘Look now.’

  Deep in the blackness the glow returned, but this time it quickly divided into seven or eight clusters, brighter than before. They flickered and darted, dissolving and shedding light, but somehow replenishing themselves and becoming more intense. I took an instinctive step backwards, suddenly aware that the miniature fireballs were travelling up towards me at an increasing speed. The next instant the surface broke into a flurry of bubbles and Keaty appeared, gasping for air.

  ‘What did you think,’ he spluttered between lungfuls. ‘Did you ever see anything like it?’

  ‘No…’ I replied, still stupidly dazed. ‘… Never.’

  ‘Phosphorescence. Minute creatures or algae or something. They glow when you make a movement.’ He hauled himself on to the boulder. ‘Phew! What an effort! We’ve been practising that all night. Trying to get the best display.’

  ‘… It looked incredible… But… where do the creatures come from?’

  ‘Daffy would say they come from the corals,’ said Gregorio. ‘It only happens on some nights. Not often. But now it is here, it will stay for the next few days. Maybe three or four.’

  I shook my head. ‘Amazing… Just amazing…’

  ‘Ah-ha!’ Étienne slapped me on the back and pushed Gregorio’s diving mask into my hands. ‘But there is still the best to see!’

  ‘Underwater?’

  ‘Yes! Put this on and follow me! I will show you something you could never imagine!’

  ‘It’ll blow your mind,’ Keaty agreed. ‘It’s indescribable.’

  The DMZ

  I returned Jed’s binoculars to him and lay on my back. My head was still bleary from all the dope I’d smoked the night before, despite the brisk morning trek up the island, and I couldn’t seem to focus on the tiny figures. ‘Basically,’ I said, folding my hands behind my head, ‘it was like being in space. Floating with loads of stars and comets around you. One of the most amazing things was disturbing a shoal of fish…’

  Jed readjusted the binoculars to suit him. ‘I’ve seen phosphorescence before.’

  ‘But not underwater.’

  ‘No. Underwater sounds good.’

  ‘Yeah. Really good…’ I sighed. ‘… Did I tell you about Bugs and the papayas?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘I found a papaya orchard a couple of weeks ago, and now Bugs is making out like he found it. Granted, I couldn’t remember the orchard’s exact location, but it was me who found it first.’ I sat up to see how Jed was reacting. He didn’t appear to be reacting at all. ‘I suppose it isn’t that big a deal. What do you think?’

  ‘Mmm,’ Jed replied absently.

  ‘Mmm – it is a big deal, or mmm – it isn’t?’

  ‘Oh… probably…’

  I gave up. This was, after all, the precise problem with Bugs. Unless you were tuned in to the subtleties of his character, you couldn’t appreciate how irritating he was. I lay back down again and looked up at the clouds, feeling frustrated.

  Actually, I’d been feeling frustrated for quite some time. It had started when we’d arrived at our look-out post two hours earlier, to find, yet again, that Zeph and Sammy were still on their same patch of beach. I was aware that this should have been cause for relief but instead it had got on my nerves, and as the morning passed I’d thought carefully about this paradox. My first guess was that it was connected to the uncertainty of the situation. I’d become tired of the waiting and I wanted some kind of resolution to occur. Even if
it was the worst-case scenario and they set off towards us, at least the situation would become tangible. It would be something it was in our power to affect.

  But it didn’t take long for me to realize that my first guess was wrong. In the process of working through the worst-case scenario, I inevitably worked through the best-case. I imagined Zeph and Sammy disappearing, going back to Ko Pha-Ngan or Phelong, and my never seeing them again. It was at that point I realized my mistake, because what I registered, whilst entertaining this optimistic thought, was disappointment. The strange truth was that I didn’t want them to leave. Neither, as the root of my frustration, did I want them to stay put. And that left only one possibility: The worst-case scenario was the best-case scenario. I wanted them to come.

  ‘Bored,’ I murmured, carelessly, and Jed laughed.

  ‘Bored is good, Richard,’ he said. ‘Bored is safe.’

  I paused. I hadn’t mentioned my thoughts about Zeph and Sammy yet, assuming that Jed wouldn’t take them too well. But I wasn’t sure. It was possible that he felt the same way. I knew he took pleasure from evading the dope guards, part of which had to be a danger buzz, and I hadn’t forgotten the way Keaty used to talk about him. I decided to obliquely test the water.

  ‘Jed,’ I said, yawning to reinforce the casual nature of the question. ‘You remember the Gulf War?’

  ‘’Course.’

  ‘I was just wondering… You remember the build-up? When we were saying get out of Kuwait or we cream you, and Saddam was saying whatever he was saying.’

  ‘He was saying “no”, wasn’t he?’

  ‘Right.’ I leant on my elbows. ‘So I was just wondering, how were you feeling at the time?’

  ‘Feeling?’

  ‘About the build-up to the Gulf War.’

  Jed lowered the binoculars and rubbed his beard. ‘I was feeling that it was all a load of hypocritical bullshit, if I remember correctly.’

  ‘No, I meant about the possibility of there being a war. Did it bother you much?’

  ‘Uh… not really.’

  ‘You weren’t sort of… looking forward to it?’

 

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