“Let me!” said Jalli and found a small thorn sticking in the heel. Her good eyesight and skilful fingers soon had it removed. Jack stood up and readjusted his sandal.
“I could do with a pair of trainers,” he grumbled. “Now which way is the Beacon Centre?”
“No point,” Jalli returned the tease, “no money!”
“You know, we’re not alone here, Jalli. Look. Isn’t that a bonfire?” A little to their left on what seemed the highest point of the island was a large pile of brushwood.
They made their way over to it. Beside it was a very large woven coconut leaf mat and three large plastic bottles full of water. “It’s a signal beacon. Looks like you light the bonfire and then damp it down and make smoke.”
“Down there,” pointed Jalli. “I’m sure that’s a fence around a garden or something. And, look, among those palms I think I can make out a house – and a whiff of smoke. Let’s go down and say hello.”
“… And find out what we’re supposed to do here. Take it easy on the rough parts. We don’t want to cut our feet.”
They traced their way down between boulders and scrub until they got to leveller ground covered in tall grasses, shrubs and wild flowers releasing sweet scents into the fresh, salty breeze. The sun beat down and they were glad of their palm hats. When they reached the garden there was a high bamboo fence – too high to see over, but looking through the poles they could see rows of green vegetables and what looked like maize. The fence went round the whole garden. In one corner there was a door hinged and tied with twisted bark.
They almost leaped out of their skins when they heard a loud cry from directly behind them. It was like a child protesting. But turning round they saw, standing gazing at them, a goat. It bleated once more and sauntered off along the fence.
“Now we can see the reason for the fence,” declared Jack.
As they left the fence they entered a grove of tall trees and the ground grew soft and lush. They easily discerned a narrow path. It was clearly leading towards the “house”.
“No,” cautioned Jalli, “not this way. We’re not expected. We could frighten whoever lives here just like that goat frightened us.”
“Wise words. Let’s go down to the beach and call from a distance.” They pushed their way through lush undergrowth, stepping over a fallen log and paddling through smelly black boggy puddles. Just before they reached the beach Jalli touched a large green leaf with her arm.
“Ow! That hurts! Don’t touch that Jack!”
“What? What’ve you done?”
“It’s that leaf it’s stung me!” There was a red splotch over Jalli’s lower arm where she had pushed past the leaf. “It hurts! It really hurts!” she complained.
“Look let’s get out of here. We’ve nearly made the beach.”
Jack took hold of Jalli and ushered her the last few steps. They sat in the shade of a pandanus palm. Jalli’s arm was now quite red. She looked faint. Jack was wondering what to do. “I’ll – I’ll be alright,” said Jalli. “It’s just the pain. I expect it’ll go off!”
They had been so preoccupied with Jalli’s arm that neither of them noticed the man standing on the edge of the surf looking at them for several minutes. Jalli caught sight of movement and looked up. Jack followed her gaze and then they all were looking at each other across the beach.
“Our resident,” observed Jack. He stood up and shouted. “Hi. I’m Jack. This is Jalli. We just found ourselves on your island.” The man remained where he was, the sea lapping around his feet. He wore a palm hat like theirs and a goat skin across his shoulders. Other than that he wore nothing. Jack wondered whether he should approach but Jalli was still sitting on the sand and he was reluctant to leave her. After what seemed like an age, the man suddenly took off the goat skin and wrapped it around his waist – as if suddenly becoming aware of his nakedness. He stepped toward them and at a distance of about ten metres seemed to try and say something.
“You. H-ho… how? Wh – where?” He struggled trying to get his mouth to go round the words.
“We arrived on the other side of your island,” said Jack. “We don’t really know why, but we’ve, kind of, been sent here. Do you need help?”
“H… Help?” stammered the man. He pointed to himself, “J… Johnson,” and he held out his hand and a broad smile came across his face. “Ship! You – ship! Sorry, I forget how to speak. Five years!”
“You’ve been here five years, on your own?” The man nodded with a huge smile across his face and tears beginning to fall across his cheeks. “Jane,” he shouted, “Jane. I… coming!”
“Jane?” asked Jalli.
“Wife. My… wife.” Johnson then spotted Jalli’s arm. He came forward to her and reached, ever so tenderly, to take her hand. The first human being he had touched in five years! He held her hand very carefully. “Bad… leaf. Come. I have…” Jalli stood as he led her by the hand, not once letting go, along the beach to his “house”. It was a single room shelter built against pandanus palm trunks. He motioned for her to sit down on a low, shaped, log. His “sofa”. From inside the hut, he found a plastic bottle with a little oily liquid in it and poured it on the red mark on Jalli’s arm. He then took a bamboo sliver and, holding both ends, scrapped it gently across the affected area. The treatment certainly helped but wasn’t exactly a cure.
“Bad leaf. Two d-days,” Johnson described two arcs with his right hands, “Two days, better.”
“Two days. Like this?”
The man nodded. “Two days. Bad leaf! Don’t touch again!”
“Don’t worry! I won’t! Thank you.” She was reassured that it was not a permanent affliction, but two days seemed an awfully long time with that pain.
“You, eat!?” The man went to the base of a coconut palm and selected a coconut from a small pile. He peeled off the husk on a sharp stake stuck into the sand and then struck the shell with a rock, clearly selected for the task. The nut broke easily. It was obvious he had done this thousands of times before. Then he went back into the hut and came out with a medium sized kitchen knife. “Life-saver,” he uttered. He cut pieces of coconut from inside the shell and offered one half to Jalli and the other to Jack.
“Delicious,” said Jack, “I have not had fresh coconut for ages!” The man smiled.
“Coconut every day. All days. Five years. Fish, yes, fish. I learn catch and cook fish. Then garden. Yams. I’m not the first here. Must be people before with yams, and maize. Not good maize but good… enough!”
Johnson’s speech was now improving. His diction was still lacking but he was finding the words easier.
“Ship! Other side? Ship coming here?”
“No,” said Jack, “we don’t have a ship. It’s difficult to explain but we came through a special sort of gate. It’s a way of travelling through universes. If you can see the gate you can come back with us. To another universe.”
“But he may not be able to see the gate!” emphasised Jalli. “Mr. Johnson, you must not build up your hopes!”
“Jane? My wife?”
“We can’t take you back to your wife I’m afraid,” sighed Jack, “we are not from your world. But you can come with us – if you can see the gate. If you can see the gate the Owner wants you.”
“I understand now. I am dying. You’ve come to take me to heaven.”
“No! No it’s not like that, Johnson. We’re not angels to take you to heaven. You are not ready for dying yet. Look, we don’t know how we can help. But the Owner, God if you like, has sent us. We know there is something for us to do. But we don’t know what that is yet. We must wait.”
“Wait.” Johnson’s face fell. But then he began to smile again. “Wait, yes, but now I have friends. Kind friends. Beautiful friends!” Johnson smiled at Jalli. “I have waited five years, two months. Come look!” He motioned to them to look behind his hut where there was a rock with carefully scratched strokes – weeks, months and years. Beneath were six stones – some on a low rock. “Each d
ay when the sun comes up I put one rock here,” he explained moving a stone from the ground to the low rock. “On Sunday I put them all back. Today, I think it is Tuesday. I might be… wrong day.”
“Wow. Brilliant!” exclaimed Jack. “Do you want to come to the cave and see if you can see our gate?”
“Too late, now. No moon. Tomorrow we will go. Now we will find some… some supper.”
Johnson picked up two bamboo spears and beckoned to Jack to come with him to the water’s edge. He followed the beach down to where there was a deep pool between high rocks. Here he stood and watched for a couple of minutes and then sent his spear flashing in the water. He went in after it and dragged it up with a large fish. But no matter how many times Jack tried he either could see nothing or missed. “I was hungry for a week, but learned fast,” smiled Johnson.
Jalli wandered down the beach after them, feeling a bit better. She was wondering if there was any water to drink. Johnson smiled, “I have tea! But first…” He collected his knife and shinned up a coconut palm like a monkey. He cut three green coconuts that each fell into the sand with a thud. He cut the green flesh off the top of one and then bashed it with a stone – another selected stone from his “tool set”.
“You drink that,” he ordered Jalli. Jalli put the coconut to her lips and tipped her head. The “milk’ was cool, sweet and had a bit of a fizz. She thought she had never tasted anything quite so refreshing. The tea turned out to be a kind of herb that Johnson put into some water he got from a collection of plastic bottles. “Rainwater,” he explained.
“Where do you get all these plastic bottles from?”
“Rubbish. They drift up the beach with rubbish!” Johnson pointed to a line of rubbish washed up by the tide. It contained a huge variety of flotsam indicative of the mess of modern society – plastic items of every description, cork, wood, nylon line and netting. He had rigged a series of plastic bags and a tub to catch rain water. Johnson gutted the fish and covered it in a type of clay and laid it on the fire. He turned it several times. Then after only a few minutes he broke open the clay with a stick, scooped it onto a piece of bark and laid it on the sand in front of Jalli. She tasted it and wondered how anyone would want to live anywhere else. The coconut, the fish and the beautiful beach – all were perfect. The only thing missing, she contemplated, was his Jane.
As the sun set he passed around another bottle. For the mosquitoes, he said. The liquid smelt bad, but he assured them the mosquitoes liked it even less than human noses. It seemed to work. Johnson fetched a beautiful soft mattress woven out of some kind of bark and laid it on the sand for Jalli.
“Isn’t this your bed?” she inquired.
“No. Your bed tonight,” said Johnson, “no rain tonight.” He smoothed a piece of sand for Jack and smiled, “Your bed!” and laughed before he himself went down the beach a little and sat quietly under a pandanus palm watching the sun set.
17
The night was calm and the air balmy, but there was little sleep for Jalli. Most of the night she was kept awake by the terrible pain from her arm. In England Jack might have found her some antihistamine or given her some pain-killers. But here there was no such thing.
Jack was concerned but Johnson was not. “It is painful now, but it will pass. Two days,” he reminded them as he prepared some coconut and goat’s milk for breakfast. Jalli’s eyes glazed. “Another night?” she murmured.
“It will hurt again, but less. Tomorrow better. Today we go and look in your cave. I want to see your door. Walking will help the pain.”
“So will eating your lovely food.”
“Tonight we will have goat and yam.”
“But we must not eat all your food,” protested Jalli. “If we cannot rescue you, you will need it!”
“I will need to kill a goat. I cannot keep it. There is more than I can eat on a goat. I make sure there are not too many because they break… spoil the island. I have plenty of yams and fish. If you stay we can make bigger garden!”
As they ate breakfast, Jack and Jalli talked about how they met and their adventures, and about the mystery of the white gates.
When they had bathed in the sea and removed the smelly anti-mosquito liquid they walked along the path to the garden. A much safer way to pass through the wooded area. Johnson explained that he had beaten a way through after he had encountered the same kind of leaf. He had been stung three times in the process! He opened the gate and took them into the garden.
“Hard work!” pronounced Jalli.
“Many stones, then. I dug with this.” Johnson showed them a stone plough lashed to the forked end of a wooden shaft. “Then I put grass and leaves and goat… er…”
“Dung?”
“Exactly… and also human!” He laughed. “I mix it up in these piles.”
“Composting,” declared Jack.
“Yes. Composting! Some people had already started garden, but no fence. I found yams and some maize. I want other things but cannot find the seeds. I would like more fruit.”
They trekked on up to the top of the hill and stood by the bonfire. Johnson explained that it was a signal beacon in case he saw a ship – just as Jack had guessed. The mat was to make smoke signals. Johnson demonstrated the method he envisaged. But no ship had been seen in five years.
“How did you get here?” asked Jalli.
“Um – er… place where I lived,” Johnson put his head in his hands. “Name’s gone. Hard to think. Have not used language for so long. Five years. Place were I lived… fight… coup…ran away and took a boat. Look!” Johnson drew Jalli and Jack to the edge of the cliff and pointed to a small bay at the far end of the island where they could make out some wreckage. “Fuel finished. Made sail and came here. I have not seen a ship since that day. Five years, two months, one w… week! Come, you show me your gate!”
Jack walked along the cliff top until he spotted the way back down to the cave. It was not so easy going back but they slipped and slithered until they came to rocks above the little inlet. The tide was in. “We’ll have to wait,” called Jack. Johnson pulled a string bag from his back and handed round three plastic bottles of rainwater and some dried sunfish.
“Picnic,” he smiled.
“You don’t go hungry ever!” rejoiced Jalli.
“Hungry once. Very hungry. Not now!”
The sun was hot, but their big hats and long sleeves, which they had learned to wear rolled down, made it bearable. After an hour the black sand emerged and Jack made his way gingerly down across the slippery rocks. “The cave is not too deep in water,” he shouted back. “Come on down. It’s slippery!” he warned.
They made their way down to the beach, Johnson offering a hand in the most gentlemanly way to Jalli. It made Jack wonder if he had been a little neglectful. They all stood on the black sand and Jack led the way into the cave. Jalli held back a little as Johnson eagerly, but gingerly, followed. It was clearly visible from the entrance. The gate was there. “Can you see it?” asked Jack. Johnson pushed forward and laid his hand on the top bar. He moved his hand gently over the smooth surface.
“If he can see it,” said Jalli, “he’s invited in.”
“Absolutely.” Jack lent forward and opened the latch and drew Johnson in. Jalli followed.
They all stood dripping salt water onto the lawn. Johnson just stood and stared.
“Where am I?”
“It’s a kind of reception point between different planets,” explained Jack. “Jalli lives behind that gate and my home is through that one.” The man looked but all he could see was one gate.
“He can only see his own gate,” said Jalli, “he’s not supposed to come beyond here.”
Johnson’s gaze turned to the cottage. He stood in a world entirely different from the one they had just left. He then looked at himself with his goatskin and smiled. He felt completely out of place, not correctly dressed for the occasion.
“Let’s take a shower!” exclaimed Jack, “and get you some cl
othes!”
An hour later they were all sitting in the garden under the tree, clean and dry, although Jalli wondered if her hair would ever look the same again – and her arm still hurt despite some helpful looking cream she found in a bathroom cabinet. The kitchen had been supplied with food. There was no coconut, but heaps of fruit of all kinds. In the fridge they found chicken and cheese, and in the bread bin some of Jack’s favourite bread with the poppy seeds on the top. Johnson couldn’t believe his eyes.
“You asked for fruit!” suggested Jack. “The Owner must have heard you.” They explained how the cottage seemed to work. They were really looked after and given more than they could ever hope for – but white gates kept appearing inviting them to get involved in one corner of creation or another.
“Even places with plants with stinging leaves!” added Jalli.
“Well He did give you long sleeves,” suggested Jack. “It was us who decided to roll them up.”
“Are you saying I am suffering for my vanity?”
“Exactly!” Jack teased.
Johnson looked troubled. “You did not know. It was an a… accident. You are a good girl!”
“He’s teasing me,” explained Jalli. “He doesn’t mean to be cruel. He looks after me very well… most of the time!” It was Jalli’s turn to tease Jack.
“Now, the question is,” Jack brought the conversation back to Johnson, “where do you go from here? You can come here to eat and clean up, but there is no other white gate for you to use.”
“No I cannot leave my world. On my island I am nearer my Jane. There might be a ship.” As he said this Johnson began to get agitated. “I have to get back to the island. There might be a ship even now. Thank you for coming. I must go.” He quickly returned to the cottage and found his goatskin. “I… can I keep these clothes… and take fruit?”
“Of course,” said Jack. Jalli stuffed a large variety of fruit into a bag while Johnson changed. “Thank you I must go. I must go now.” And, taking his new clothes and the fruit, he pushed his way through the white gate. He turned and waved as water came up to his ankles. “You will come back and see me!”
The Kicking Tree Page 19
