by John Harding
He gave Sam a feeble wave. ‘Yes, it’s me.’
Sam walked over to the fence. As he approached William took a step forward to hide the huge pile of excrement he had produced.
‘Whatcha doing crawling around down there?’ asked Sam.
‘I er, I er heard a noise and I er, I was worried it might be um, burglars. So I er um was hiding behind the fence to check it out. And um . . .’ here William gave a silly little laugh, ‘I er found it was you.’
To most people his demeanour was so guilty that this explanation might have been greeted with immediate suspicion but Sam had his own embarrassment to hide.
‘Yes, I was um, just admiring the er, scenery, you know, enjoying the ocean and all.’
‘The car park’s probably not the best place to enjoy the ocean from,’ said William, realizing now that just as Sam had almost caught him crapping, he had almost caught Sam checking his car. ‘For one thing, you can’t even see it from here.’
‘Well, um, that’s true,’ said Sam, looking around as if to make sure there wasn’t an ocean lurking within view that he hadn’t noticed. ‘But you can hear it. That’s almost as good. And you sure can smell that sea air.’ He took a deep, environmentally enthusiastic breath in through his nostrils, but at once the smile vanished from his face. ‘Phew! What is that? Smells like dog crap.’
‘Er, no, no dogs allowed on the property. Four acres all well fenced,’ said William. ‘Um, shall we go inside and get ourselves some breakfast?’ He was anxious to get Sam away from the incriminating dump. He would have to come back later and bury it, he thought. They walked back towards the rear door of the house, Sam still on the outside of the fence. Halfway to the house Sam paused. He raised a finger in the air in a poor mime of someone who has suddenly remembered something.
‘What is it?’ asked William.
‘Just have to get something from my car,’ said Sam, and dashed off back the way he’d come.
‘It’s OK to say you’re going to check,’ William called after him. ‘That’s the whole point of the weekend. You’re among friends. You don’t have to conceal your disorder. Getting over the guilt may be the first step to managing it better. Controlling it instead of it controlling you.’
Sam stopped, turned and smiled. ‘Hey, that’s right. I forgot. Well, William, I’m just going to check that I put the emergency brake on.’
He trotted off. ‘Sam!’ William called after him. ‘Could you maybe check my emergency brake too? It’s the blue Honda.’ William felt sure Sam was the one person he’d ever met who would do a better job of checking his car than he would himself.
He walked through the back door of the house and straight into an argument. Frank was bellowing at Sheena. ‘You had no right, bitch!’ he screamed. ‘That’s my room, private.’
Sheena was in tears. ‘I know, I know, but you don’t have to be so nasty,’ she sobbed. ‘It was your fault for leaving your door open.’
‘Excuse me!’ yelled Frank. ‘It was not my fault. I had to take an urgent dump. My guts were killing me. Jesus, I was in agony. It musta been that pizza we had—’
‘I knew it! I knew it!’ wittered Lorna. ‘I just knew that delivery boy was the sort who’d have been touching his tyres!’
‘I bin waiting an hour to get in the friggin’ bathroom,’ continued Frank. ‘When I finally hear the door open I’m not about to hang around to close my door and let some other nut with a cleaning fetish get in that bathroom for another hour and a half while I crap myself.’
‘Nut with a cleaning fetish!’ sniffed Rhoda who’d just walked in. ‘Some support we get from you.’
‘Well, listen lady, that’s what she is,’ said Frank pointing at Sheena. ‘I’m only out of my room a minute, two at the most, that’s how urgent that crap was, and I come back to find her in my room and all my stuff moved around.’
‘All moved around!’ snapped Sheena. ‘In two minutes! That’s simply not true. I don’t work that fast. Ask any of my employers!’
‘Thank God I didn’t touch that pizza!’ Lorna exclaimed, obviously suddenly remembering that she hadn’t eaten any of it. ‘I could have died. It makes me feel faint just thinking about it.’ She put a hand to her forehead and started to sway. Fortunately, at that moment, Sam came in through the back door and caught hold of her.
‘Easy does it,’ he said.
‘Sorry, I just felt faint.’
‘You need some fresh air, that sea breeze will soon blow the nausea away,’ said Sam kindly. He turned her around and edged her towards the back door.
‘No, no,’ said Lorna, raising her arms in terror. ‘I couldn’t possibly. Who knows what dogs have been doing out there?’
‘No dogs allowed here, Lorna, it’s in the rental literature,’ said William.
‘But do the dogs around here know that?’ she protested. ‘They might have come into the garden and – and—’
‘It’s OK,’ said Sam. ‘There’s a secure dog-proof fence all around the garden. I just walked every inch of it and I um, I er, I happened to notice it was—’ He caught William’s eye. ‘Damn, if I don’t keep forgetting,’ he said. ‘I checked it! There you are, I checked it myself, every inch of the garden fence. Totally secure, Lorna.’
‘Well, if you’re sure . . .’ She allowed Sam to help her through the back door.
‘What happened?’ asked William, turning back to the combatants. ‘Sheena, is it true you went into Frank’s room when he wasn’t there?’
‘Damn right it’s—’ began Frank but William lifted his hand to silence him. ‘I asked Sheena,’ he said.
‘I – I couldn’t help myself,’ she said. ‘I was going back to my room from the bathroom and when I passed Frank’s room the door was open and I – I happened to glance in and I saw all this mess—’
‘It isn’t mess,’ snapped Frank. ‘It’s my stuff. It’s why I’m here, for Christ’s sake.’
‘OK, OK,’ said Sheena. ‘Anyway, it was all over the place and I couldn’t resist just popping in there and trying to straighten it out a little bit and then he comes in and goes apeshit.’
‘Wouldn’t you? When I walked back in it was a mess. She turned stuff into a mess. She’d rearranged everything so I couldn’t find anything.’
‘I’d tidied is all.’
‘Bitch. Mad bitch!’
Sheena turned and fled up the stairs. William rushed after her but she ducked into the bathroom and slammed the door in his face, drawing the bolt. He heard water running. He knocked on the door. ‘Sheena,’ he said softly. ‘Sheena, please don’t do this.’
‘Go away,’ she said. ‘The longer you’re there, the longer it will be before I can get started.’
William was halfway down the stairs when he heard a scream, followed by shouting and then hysterical sobbing. He entered the kitchen to find Lorna utterly distraught, crying and flailing her arms hysterically while Sam and Steve tried to restrain her.
‘Whatever’s happened?’ asked William.
‘This,’ said Rhoda. In her hand she held a woman’s shoe, gingerly, between her thumb and index finger.
‘Sure is the biggest dog turd I ever see,’ said Frank.
‘I knew I smelled something out there this morning,’ said Sam. ‘That’s why I checked the fence. I still can’t believe a dog could have got in. I must have missed seeing a really small hole in the wire . . .’
‘Small hole!’ screamed Lorna. ‘It wasn’t a small dog did that. I don’t know what kind of breed could have produced so much stuff, but it must have been the size of an elephant.’
William’s eyes were going right-left-left-right so fast that it had an almost stroboscopic effect on his sight. In the brief flashes of vision his OCD ritual afforded him, he caught glimpses of Lorna’s shoe, or rather, the top of it. The rest of it was embedded in what was, unquestionably, his own crap.
After this disastrous start to the day things fell apart pretty soon. Steve was the first one to leave. He suddenly didn’t remem
ber switching off his electric hob. For that matter he couldn’t remember switching it on. Of course, it was possible he hadn’t switched it off because it was never on, but on the other hand if it was . . .
This set Sam off to worrying that he didn’t remember switching off his hob, either, until he recalled he hadn’t got one but then this made him not remember switching on his burglar alarm. There was nothing for it, he’d have to head back home too.
Sheena was so upset about the fight with Frank that when she finally emerged from the bathroom she announced she was leaving. She couldn’t stand being in the house and knowing there was all that mess in the room next door to her. Rhoda said if Sheena was going she might as well too. Lorna was so traumatized about the dog shit that there was no question of her staying and so Rhoda offered her a lift but only on condition she dumped her shoes to which Lorna said what kind of person did Rhoda think she was, of course she’d dump her shoes, had already dumped them in fact. Frank said he might as well go too. At this, Sheena looked a little guiltily at William and said she could stay a bit if Frank’s mess was out of there. Rhoda said she would offer to stay as well if Sheena were but that she’d already promised to take Lorna home. William suggested Frank take Lorna, but Frank had so much stuff to put back in his car he didn’t have room for another person which just about summed up what was wrong with his life, Sheena said, which led to another row breaking out. But eventually it all settled down and William was left with Sheena.
‘You want me to give you a lift back to the city?’ he said. She smiled gratefully. She really had a very attractive smile. ‘You could come back to my place for dinner.’
‘OK,’ she said. ‘So long as I get to wash the dishes.’
TWENTY-ONE
THE FIRST THINGS William saw when he returned to consciousness after the blow on the head at the Captain Cook were blue eyes staring into his. Well, he thought they were blue eyes, cornflower blue, wasn’t that how the paint charts had it? but he couldn’t be sure because his own vision seemed to be blurred. The colour of the eyes was not the only thing that was remarkable about them, there was also their number, for there were four of them, arranged in two sets of two that orbited one another, floating around above him. It made him feel dizzy, just watching them all dancing about like that, so he closed his own eyes again. For how long and whether he lost consciousness again, he didn’t know, but when he opened them once more the blue eyes were no longer there, replaced by a single pair in brown, framed by Tigua’s smiling face.
‘Phew! Gwanga, you is give we one plenty big scare. We is all say we is dig you bones up in day or two.’ This further mystified an already puzzled William who as yet knew nothing of the burial practices of the natives and the ritual exhumation of recently buried corpses. ‘I is find you at Captain Cook. I is run and get Lintoa and we is carry you back.’
‘I is carry you back, gwanga, this sow is just hold you hat.’ Tigua’s even more butch friend appeared behind her. Lintoa’s huge box of a head reminded William of one of those Easter Island statues.
‘I is be one who is find you, gwanga. I is probably save you life,’ said Tigua.
‘I er I th—’
‘Is be OK, gwanga,’ interrupted Tigua swiftly. ‘You is not thank. Is not be proper for thank someone for save life. Thank someone for beer, yes, for save life, no. Anyway, I is not want thanks. Is be I who is thank you. Is be first time I is ever have chance for save someone life.’
Lintoa pulled a face but evidently couldn’t be bothered to protest at all this. Instead she turned and called, ‘Miss Lucy! You is come quick, gwanga is wake up.’
There was the sound of footsteps, shod footsteps on wooden boards, he noticed, not the patter of bare feet on hardened mud, and a slight blonde woman of about his own age appeared. The blue eyes. She smiled. ‘I am glad to see you awake at last. We were getting quite worried about you. You must have hit your head pretty hard when you fell.’ Her accent was British. He noticed she had rather pointy breasts.
‘I – I didn’t hit it when—’ William stopped. Best not say what had happened in front of the two girls; Tigua especially was such a chatterbox. Someone had certainly struck him on the back of the head, but until he found out more it might be politic not to make it public.
‘You is hit head,’ insisted Lintoa. ‘You is have lump size of coconut on back of head. Is look like you is have two heads.’
‘Lintoa is exaggerate of course,’ chipped in Tigua. ‘Mebbe one head and half. Still, is be plenty lucky you is be alive. If I is not find you—’
‘You is already say all this,’ interrupted Lintoa, giving Tigua a shove on the shoulder which nearly knocked her over.
‘No, I is not say. If I is not find you nobody is because nobody else is go near Captain Cook. I is not be afraid of bad spirits because I is already go with you.’
Lintoa shoved her again. This time she slipped out of William’s line of vision to be replaced by the white woman.
‘Here, take some water,’ she said. She slipped her hand beneath his head and cradled it, raising it so he could sip from the glass she proffered in her other hand. An actual glass! The first he’d seen since he’d come to the island.
‘Who – who?’ he mumbled when he’d finished and she had let his head gently back onto the pillow.
‘My name’s Lucy Tibbut. I live here.’
‘Here? Are we not on the island any more?’
‘Of course we are. What makes you think we’re not?’
‘Managua told me there were no other white people on the island.’
‘No, is not be true, gwanga,’ said Tigua. ‘You is ask if is be other white mans on island. Managua is say no. You is not mention white womans.’
Lucy turned to Tigua. ‘Listen, he’s tired. Why don’t you two run along so he can get some rest?’
‘How he go is rest when you is talk together all time?’ demanded Tigua. ‘You is say he is rest for get rid of we so you is can talk.’
Lucy laughed. ‘You’re absolutely right. So run along now, there’s a good girl.’
‘I is want for listen.’
‘I’m sure you do, but I don’t want you to so you have to go. Here, take this.’ She walked away from the bed out of William’s vision for a moment. Without warning two missiles came hurtling one after the other through the air. Lintoa fielded them as if they were baseballs and tossed one to Tigua. Cans of beer. William was amazed.
‘Thanks, Miss Lucy,’ said Tigua and the two girls were out of the room in a moment, Lintoa pausing briefly in the doorway to shuck off the slingbacks she was wearing and pick them up.
‘Now we’ve got shot of those two,’ said Lucy, ‘you can tell me what you’re doing here.’
‘I could ask you the same question.’
‘I’m an ethnographer.’ She laughed. ‘I’m making a study of the islanders here in their native environment. I’m working on a book about their culture. I’ve been here almost a year.’
‘A woman, on your own?’
‘It’s perfectly safe. They abandoned poison darts some years ago, they’re not cannibals and it’s taboo to have sex with non-islanders. You just have to watch out for green shoestring snakes. Your turn, now.’
‘Could I have one of those beers?’ William wasn’t much of a drinker but working on the hair of the dog principle he hoped it might help his kassa hangover and the additional ache in his head he’d gained from being hit on it.
‘Are you sure you’re up to it?’
‘Only one way to find out.’ He pulled himself up so that his shoulders were resting on the wooden wall of the hut behind him. ‘Oooh.’
‘Really sure?’
‘Yes.’
She returned with a beer, popped the tab and placed it in his hand. ‘It’s cold,’ he said in wonder. ‘How come?’
‘Gas refrigerator. The only one on the island. It’s very small and the only things I keep in it are beer, sun cream and make-up. Mostly beer. My skin’s getting used to the
sun and I don’t have much call for make-up here except when I’m feeling sorry for myself and need cheering up.’
He managed to shuffle himself up a little more so that he was almost in a sitting position, which enabled him to keep the sore part of his head off the wall. He was able to see her better now. She was about his own age, early thirties. Her face was kind of angular, her nose and chin pointy like the sharpened breasts beneath her shirt, but attractive, none the less.
‘The plane brings me a crate of beer every month. That’s forty-eight cans. One a day plus a few for my friends. Oh, I forgot, I have a bottle or two of white wine in the fridge as well. But you were going to tell me about you.’
As they drank their beer, William explained that he worked for a charity that specialized in providing legal assistance to the victims of American government action. He was here because a former US marine had contacted the organization with a story of atrocities committed against the islanders by American ordnance and military personnel.
Her face clouded as he talked. When she spoke, she was abrupt. ‘What does that mean in plain English?’
‘I’m here to investigate the possibility of compensation for all the damage done to these people by US landmines. And for at least one victim of rape.’ He groaned once more. He’d shifted his position and when the back of his head touched the wall again, it hurt. ‘Ouch!’ He put his hand on the spot and felt cloth.
‘I put a dressing on it. It’s a pretty nasty wound. You were lucky, you could have been killed, falling all that way.’
‘I didn’t hurt myself falling. The trees broke my fall. Somebody hit me on the head and pushed me off the building.’
‘Hm, that would be surprising because the people here are a peaceable lot. The worst they’d do to you would be ask one of their sorcerers to put a death spell on you. Are you sure someone hit you? I mean, you’re probably concussed, you may not be thinking clearly.’
William stared back at her. The eyes were very blue. ‘I know what happened.’
