`We heard good things about you,' Janice added. 'Thought we'd check it out.'
`That's great, man, great,' Thunder said, smiling and looking from one to another and then back at Katya. 'We're
getting dozens of new people every day. The last days are here and I guess everyone's finally learning to groove.'
No one responded immediately to this and in the pause Lisa introduced everyone to Thunder. A naked white man and black girl walked by holding hands, the girl's long hair falling down her back. Lisa noticed how skinny they both were and that the girl's bony bottom was covered with a light coating of sand.
`We're not much on clothes here,' Thunder went on, smiling. 'Everyone's free to do what they want. Bare-assed or tuxedo, it's all cool here.'
`But bare-assed is cooler,' Katya commented and Thunder laughed and reached out and put a bony hand briefly on her shoulder.
`You're right there, Katya,' he said. 'Especially in this heat. Hey, you people be sure to stay for the party tonight. Big Robby's gonna lay a rap on us and then we'll all have a good time.'
Ìs there some place to get something to eat and drink?' Lisa asked. Thunder's face clouded. 'There's a cistern about two hundred yards past that last house. Just follow the path. But it's getting low so we're having to ration. Our next meal's about dusk - only an hour - but I doubt the girls are back' from buying the fruit and fish.'
`We'll survive,' said Lisa, tossing her dark hair away from her face.
`Yes . . .' said Thunder, looking slowly at the three of them with a frown. 'Hey, you know, I don't want to preach, but you cats ought to loosen up a bit, enjoy yourselves. This is the peninsula of love, man, and Robby's message is that we should joy in these last days. You folks appear a little down. Loosen up, man. Do what you will, but joy!'
They stared at him.
'We're a little done in by our sail,' said Janice.
`Sure, man, I dig that. But you got to know that within a month the whole earth will be destroyed,' Thunder elaborated, his bearded face strangely expressionless as he spoke.
`Things don't look too good,' Lisa agreed tentatively.
`You got to joy, man. These are the last days. Let go!' He smiled at them and gave Janice an awkward hug. 'If you want to get stoned the communal pot supply is in this first shack here. I'm afraid it's rationed, too.'
`No thanks,' said Lisa.
`Joy, brothers and sisters,' Thunder pronounced, opening his arms in a belated welcome. '
Joy in all you do. The last days are here.'
`Joy to you, too,' said Lisa shyly in a soft voice as Thunder strode away after two women who were following a path off to the left.
`May the last days find you soon,' said Katya, so low that only Lisa could hear.
`Hey, Oscar asked me to get some pot,' said Janice. 'You go on ahead. I'll join you later.'
Lisa and Katya walked on. When they emerged several minutes later from the shrub oak to the water's edge they found themselves among six or seven other young women and girls and one man, all but two of them black, all watching a long, powerful motor yacht slowly approaching a large mooring about forty feet from shore. The black women were wearing blouses and cut-offjeans, both so frayed in some cases they were close to rags. The hot wind was blowing off the shore at this point and the water, despite the strength of the breeze, was in the lee, calm.
Èxcuse me,' said Katya to the one white girl, who was wearing only a bikini bottom, her small, naked breasts a light stripe in her browner upper body. 'Where can we get something to eat?'
The girl frowned. 'The boat,' she said, pointing. 'They bring it on the boat.'
Lisa could see that twomen on the big boat had successfully tied their yacht to a mooring and the ship lay at rest about fifty feet out.
Ì say, are you girls coming, or not?' one of the men yelled from the bow of the yacht.
`Bring us the little boat, mahn!' one of the black women on shore shouted back. Òh no,' the man shouted back, grinning. 'You can swim out today; the exercise will be good for you.'
`Put the boarding ladder down!' shouted a pudgy black girl, slipping off her brightly coloured but tattered blouse and leaving it neatly next to another woman's basket. The woman then ran four or five strides into the water and made a clumsy dive to begin swimming out to the yacht.
Àh, shit, I can't swim,' one of the other black girls said, as two more black women prepared to swim out.
`HEY!' shouted the white girl to the man standing on the bow watching the swimmers. 'I CAN'T SWIM! How about a lift?'
`Later, sweetheart,' the man responded. 'We'll let these ladies row in with what they buy.'
Òh shit,' said the white girl to herself. 'By the time we get there, they'll be tough to bargain with.'
`Who cares?' said a black girl. 'We'll eat anyway.' `Shit, rotten mangoes and fish.'
Ìt food, I eat it.'
Lisa and Katya stood just behind these two girls listening and watching the three women who had swum out to the yacht, who, one by one climbed up the boarding ladder on the starboard side of the yacht and disappeared into the huge cockpit. From where they stood, the wind, blowing directly offshore, was keeping the yacht with its bow directly at them so Lisa couldn't tell what was happening aboard the boat. The man who'd been on the bow went aft when the women began climbing aboard.
Three of the women still on shore now moved off along the beach and seemed to have lost interest in the yacht, leaving
only Lisa, Katya, and the black girl who was desperate for any food. When Lisa next looked at the boat she saw two of the men peering over the top of the windshield high up on their yacht and examining her and Katya through binoculars. In another few minutes a dinghy appeared from around the back of the ship and a black woman climbed down into it and paddled towards shore. The girl in front of Lisa and Katya walked down to the water's edge to meet her.
Tucking white pigs!' the returning woman said, throwing the oar up the beach. She retrieved a small cardboard carton half-filled with something from the bottom of the dinghy and came towards them.
`You want food,' she said to Katya as she approached, `go get it. They tol' me to tell you they feeling generous. They like white girls.'
Lisa began to walk down the beach to the dinghy. As she did she noticed the men had tied a line on the dinghy's stern which was attached at the other end to their yacht. Katya had been slow in following but now she stood beside the dinghy into which the last black girl had sullenly climbed.
`Coming?' she asked Katya gloomily.
Lisa looked at Katya.
`Who are these men?' Katya asked slowly as if calculating. `They bring food and stuff every few days,' said the black girl. Ìs there ever any rough stuff?' Katya asked.
`Why they use rough stuff?'
`Do they have guns?'
Ì never seen none. You, June?'
Òh, they got guns,' said the woman who had returned. `They pirates, mahn.'
`Pirates?' Lisa echoed.
`My God, that's the Mollycoddle,' Katya exclaimed, suddenly remembering Neil's presentation the night before. `Sure. They famous,' said the black woman.
`You stay here,' said Katya to Lisa. Ì'm going out to take a look.'
`Shouldn't we wait for. Jim?' Lisa asked.
Ì'll be all right,' said Katya. 'The only thing I've got they might want to pirate can't be permanently removed.' She laughed nervously and then walked down the beach and after a long hesitation dived into the water.
As Lisa watched Katya's slow progress, the last black girl was having trouble pulling the dinghy into the water; Lisa helped her, and, the boat afloat, impulsively jumped in beside her.
Katya had swum past the boarding ladder to examine the yacht's stern - where its name would be - so that Lisa and the black girl arrived before her. When they boarded they were greeted by two white men, dressed neatly in blue Bermuda shorts and clean white sportshirts, and immediately offered a lit joint. The older of the two, a pale white man in his late t
hirties with side-burns and a baseball cap, paid special attention to Lisa. One of the two black girls still aboard was lounging topless on a cushioned chair in the huge open area aft smoking woozily. She seemed disoriented when the joint was passed to her. When Katya pulled herself up the ladder, her wet tee-shirt clinging to her breasts, the third man looked at her with frank interest.
Ì say, you look better clothed than most women do naked,' he said to her. 'I'm Michael,'
he added.
Katya shook her curly blond hair and with both hands squeezed the water out of most of its length.
`Hello,' she said coolly, looking carefully around the boat. `We'd like some food.'
`Why certainly, darling. What would you like?'
Katya took the proffered joint as Lisa had done, and took a distracted puff. 'What have you got?' she asked.
Òver here,' said Michael.
`How old are you?' the older man wearing the baseball cap asked Lisa. He was short and thickset, with powerful forearms, and though Michael and the other man seemed to have English accents, this man was American.
`Fifteen,' said Lisa, feeling self-conscious under his frank appraisal of her figure.
`That's nice,' the man said. 'You been in the commune long?'
`No, I'm just visiting.'
`You'll love it,' he said, grinning. 'Everybody loves it.'
With Katya and the black girl on the other side of the boat looking into some cans and boxes there, Lisa became aware of a loud male grunting coming from the main cabin forward. A girl's suppressed little half-screams occasionally accompanied the grunting.
`Sounds like Robert must be selling the whole stock,' Lisa's admirer in the cap joked to her.
Ì'd like as much of the fruit as you can spare,' said Katya. `You can keep the fish.'
`Why certainly, darling,' Michael said. He was tall, slender and clean-shaven with hard blue eyes that glittered happily. `How much fruit would you say we can spare, mate?' he asked his shorter friend.
`Quite a bit,' said the other.
Ì think we might be able to part with all the rest, don't you think?' said Michael.
`Certainly.'
`Thank you,' said Katya. 'May I take the basket, too?'
Ì think that might be arranged,' said Michael.
`Fine,' said Katya, abruptly lifting the straw basket of fruit and striding back towards the boarding ladder. 'Let's go, Lisa.'
Michael grabbed her arm in mid-stride, and as Katya spun sideways, a few oranges spilled forward into the cockpit floor. Katya remained half-crouched, holding the basket clutched to her chest staring at the fallen oranges, Michael still holding her arm.
`Payment, darling,' Michael said quietly. 'The matter of payment, don't you know?'
Katya slowly lowered the basket to the floor and then
straightened up. She looked slowly over at Lisa. Now the sounds of the woman's gasping screams, whether of pain or pleasure - Lisa, frightened, couldn't tell - came sharply from the cabin forward. In the silence of the confrontation between Katya and Michael the screams seemed horrendously loud and obscene.
`You've got to pay them,' the sullen black girl who'd accompanied them aboard said. Ìt's only fair,' drowsily said the other black girl collapsed in the chair.
`Besides, darling,' the man named Michael said, seeming slightly to ease his grip on Katya, 'these are the last days, remember? Nothing matters. Take joy in all you do.'
`That's right,' said the sullen black girl gloomily.
Òf course,' said Katya, shaking her head as if clearing it. Ì'm new here and just didn't know.' She smiled at the man whose big hand still held her arm. And then she added in a voice so soft and husky and sexy it startled and frightened Lisa: 'How do you like it, Michael. You name it, I'm good at it.'
Lisa thought that even Michael looked surprised at the
sudden sexual power Katya seemed to be turning on him. `Don't forget me,' the other man said nervously.
Katya turned to the other man. 'I'll take care of you too,'
she said huskily.
The woman's and man's noises from the cabin had ceased.
`But what about these other girls?' she added, still in her new husky voice. 'Don't they get some food, too?'
`Certainly,' said Michael. 'Help yourselves, girls. Take the dinghy ashore with your food. It's been lovely seeing you again.'
Òh, no,' said the man in the baseball cap. 'I've got a little girl here who wants to pay too, right, honey?' he said to Lisa. `Go, Lisa,' said Katya sharply. The older man grabbed Lisa firmly by the arm. 'And miss the fun?' he said, smiling. With a swiftness that caught everyone by surprise, Katya pulled a short mahogany boat hook from its fastener near the control panel shelf and whacked the older man a vicious blow on the side of his head, forcing him to release Lisa and stagger away.
`SWIM!' shouted Katya, turning to swing at Michael who, crouched, was approaching her.
Lisa took two steps to the yacht's coaming, and, glancing back to see Michael ducking under the boat hook, tackling Katya and sending her sprawling, and the third man with a drawn gun coming at her, she hopped over the coaming and into the water. As she surfaced and began swimming for shore she heard a man shout, then Katya scream. Lisa slipped once as she staggered out of the water and, seeing two men getting into the dinghy to pursue her, broke into a run towards the shrubs. Even as she darted down the trail to cross the peninsula she wondered if she should turn back to try to help Katya. It was getting dark and she decided to get off the main trail and find a place to hide. She tripped once and fell, immediately springing up to run on. Seeing a small fire and a shack ahead of her she ran, whimpering now, for help.
When she emerged into the firelight an old black man who'd been sitting beside the fire leapt up.
`Git away!' he shouted. 'Go!'
Lisa stood frozen, trembling, almost unable to speak. Ì . . . I need help,' she finally blurted. 'Some men . .
`Go way!' the old man shouted, then turned to look at the shack ten feet away. A young white man and woman were crawling out of the entrance, their eyes red and watery.
`Water,' the man called feebly. 'Please help us. Water . .
`Get back in there!' the old black man shouted and brandished a heavy stick at the two feeble crawlers. 'Back! - back . .
Lisa gasped as she suddenly realized that the two were sick, feverish. Glancing in terror back for any sight of her pursuers she ran on. She hadn't gone more than forty feet when she came upon the burnt-out remains of another shack, the white bones of three skeletons gleaming in the dim light of dusk. Whimpering, she ran on, no longer aware of exactly what she was fleeing, only needing to run, to escape the horrors that seemed to explode into her life in an unending series. She had to get back to Jim, to Scorpio.
At dawn the next morning Jim reported to Neil that Katya and Lisa were missing. Earlier, after he and Oscar had finished re-anchoring Scorpio they had begun looking for the three women, but found only Janice. They traced Katya and Lisa to where the barter yacht had been moored and then . . . nothing. A sullen black girl told Jim that the men on the Mollycoddle had motored off with 'de sexy white girl' but that she thought the younger white girl must have escaped. Although Janice and Oscar had abandoned the search when it got dark and returned to Scorpio, Jim had kept looking another four hours, finally stealing a bicycle to ride the ten miles back to Charlotte-Amalie, and then having to swim out to Vagabond.
For Neil and Frank and Jeanne it was clear that now they had to raid the Mollycoddle and probably the estate too. Katya - if she were still alive - was either on the boat or out at the pirates' estate. Lisa had either shared Katya's fate or had escaped and was already back on Scorpio or making her way to Vagabond. Through binoculars they soon determined that Mollycoddle was moored at her berth at the docks, but that Scorpio hadn'
t yet returned.
Neil and Jim guessed that Oscar was too timid and inexperienced a sailor to try to sail the ten miles back to Charlotte-Amali
e Harbour in the dark. Neil suspected that Lisa, fleeing, would try to find Jim and thus have first gone back to try to get out to Scorpio. He ordered Jim and Tony to go back to Salt Point, hopefully there to find Lisa. In any case they were to help sail Scorpio back to join Vagabond in Charlotte-Amalie. After Katya and Lisa were both safe - God willing - and
additional food and weapons had been garnered from the raid, the two ships would set sail together to head for the southern hemisphere.
With Jeanne's upset at the disappearance of Lisa mostly assuaged by Jim and Tony's leaving to search for her, Neil next signalled the Wellingtons with the airhorn to begin final plans for trying to save Katya and Lisa and, yet again, themselves. Eight hours later Jeanne walked slowly along the dock, having to hold a wide-brimmed straw hat on her head with one hand to prevent its being blown off by the wind. Ahead of her and to the left was the Mollycoddle, rocking in the rough seas being rolled in by the storm, its stern to her, the wind blowing it a few feet off the dock, its mooring lines taut. She was' wearing a black bikini top and a blue denim skirt, the skirt necessary to hide the small automatic strapped to the inside of her right thigh; the brief bikini top was to increase the friendliness of Mollycoddle's guardians. Neil's last stern-faced words to her after he'd helped her strap the gun to her thigh were: 'Don't let anyone feel you up.'
At this moment he was, Jeanne hoped, in Vagabond's dinghy hidden six boats back. Philip was casually fishing from the dock a dozen yards behind her. Oily and Conrad Macklin, with binoculars, were seated in the park area 'admiring the boats' and 'watching the big waves'. Neil had asked Frank to remain aboard Vagabond, telling him that if Neil himself were killed, Frank had to be safe to take over leadership. He was to come in only after they'd succeeded.
As she neared the stern of the pirate yacht she saw no sign of life. Neil said they were certain there was at least one man aboard and Philip thought there were two, but whoever was aboard was below. Perhaps the hot wind from the distant hurricane had discouraged them. Or worse, perhaps Katya was there with them . . . and Lisa . . Timing things carefully she waited until she was exactly
Long Voyage Back Page 33
