‘Just hold me,’ he said. ‘I’d really like that.’
She said, ‘Do you not like me after all then?’ Her words were full of vulnerability. ‘Yes, yes, of course I do.’ He put his arms around her. ‘You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this. It’s just. .. ‘
‘Forb.’ Her shoulders sagged.
‘Well,yes.’
‘I don’t understand you.’
‘Where I come from, it’s simply not a good thing to do so soon, that’s all. Especially if you really like someone. I liked the both of you.’ ‘But I wanted you to have me,’ she said. ‘I wanted this. I won’t see you again. It’s really important.’ ‘I know. I know. But just holding you all night would make me happy, more than you can understand. I don’t know ‘bout you.’ She smiled, but Manolin couldn’t tell if she felt insulted. ‘Yes, I’d like that too.’ ‘I like you far too much, and I liked Forb, too. It’s just my way of respecting him.’
They lay back down on the sand, in the darkness by the forest, and they could hear the villagers in the distance. She curled up next to him, nuzzling by his neck, and he held her close. It was another warm night and he could smell the fragrance from the forest and hear the trees moving in the wind.
As she slept he lay there looking at the stars, replaying his life in his mind. He was thinking of scenes in Escha. He remembered the bustling streets, the smells. Tens of thousands of people and hardly any of them smiled. He thought of the bars, the churches, the brothels, the drug houses-all ways for people to run away from actually living, he thought. He reached for his clothes and dragged his shirt over him and Myranda. His left hand was flat on the sand, and he clawed at it, feeling how soft and fine the grains were. He breathed in this clean, fresh air. In the distance he could hear laughter and in the forest behind, a bird squawked. Then, as a firefly zipped in circles above his head, and, as Myranda stirred beneath his jaw, he smiled.
Morning, and Manolin threw his bags on the beach in front of the lagoon. He looked back at the huts that had been his home. The sun was hidden behind a low ridge of nimbus clouds. He thought that they should bum away soon enough, and that the day would turn out all right.
Up ahead on the beach, Santiago, Becq, Jefry and Yana were standing next to two rafts. A group of villagers had gathered around. He could see their ship’s sail in the distance, poking up over several palms. So they were going, he thought.
To his right, a group of ichthyocentaurs walked down to him with their thick tails, their slightly waddled walk. He smiled because he saw that they looked towards Santiago first, but walked over to him. Seven of the creatures gathered around him and they signed greetings, which he returned.
It’s a shame, you are going, Manolin, one said.
Don’t feel like that, he said.
But you were such a good thing for us.
How? Manolin signed.
You took an interest in us. We felt comfortable with you around. And you have made an effort to stop the deaths. They have stopped for now. We wish you could stay.
No goodbyes, please. Not necessary. He picked up his bags, placed them on his shoulder, walked towards the village. As he passed the hut that Forb had been sharing with Myranda, he threw his bags on the sand in front.
Myranda opened the door at the sound, then stepped out, her eyes wide.
‘Are you going now?’ she said.
She was standing, one foot behind the other, her hands held in front of her fingering her ragged skirt, the sadness and confusion in her eyes. He looked up and down her body and brushed his hair back.
He said, ‘No. If it’s okay with you, I’ll stay.’
She looked at him through strands of her hair that blew across her face. ‘What?’ ‘If it’s okay with you. I’ll just let the others know I shall not be requiring a lift back.’
He doubted if he would forget the smile she gave at that moment. She did not move, did not make the moment too dramatic for him. It was nothing like in the ridiculous plays his ex-wife forced him along to see back in Escha. Her smile was genuine, saying enough. It confirmed that he did not want the competition and drama of the city. He did not want to push his career as far as others wanted. Did not want to spend his shillings with others in bars, drinking away his free time. Did not want to walk on streets brushing shoulders with strangers who glared at him as he knocked them.
He knew men did things like this-they gave up their lives for some girl. He wasn’t the first, wouldn’t be the last. He didn’t care if it all went wrong, so long as he had more nights like the previous one, because he felt sensuality more than he had ever known, and it was like he had felt closer to some spiritual plain.
It wasn’t just Myranda, either. It was the island as a whole, the entire system. And she wasn’t just some girl. When he looked at her he saw a million potentials.
He walked along the beach towards Santiago and the rest of the crew. His shirt rippled in the pleasant breeze. He was breathing heavily, nervous at the coming moment. He could feel his heart beating and began to alter his stride, becoming more confident and purposeful. He clenched his fists. The others were hunched over the rafts, loading their belongings.
Santiago turned. ‘So, you’re here at last.’ Brushing his moustache down with is finger and thumb, he looked Manolin up and down. ‘Where’re your bags, man?’
‘Oh, by Myranda’s hut.’
‘Well then, lad’ Santiago said. ‘Go get ‘em.’
Manolin curled his mouth into a pout, shrugged his shoulders. ‘Nope. No need.’ ‘Manny,’ Becq said. ‘What d’you mean?’ ‘Yes, Manolin,’ Santiago said. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘I won’t be going back.’ Yana and Jefry stood up from being hunched over the raft. Santiago rolled up his shirt sleeves. ‘What? The hell you won’t. Go get your things.’ Manolin said, ‘I’m not sure you actually understand, old man. I’m staying here.’ Becq stepped closer to Manolin. ‘But, why would you want to? What’s here? There’s nothing here.’
Manolin nodded. ‘Well, not entirely nothing.’
‘What d’you mean?’ she said.
‘What he means,’ Santiago said, ‘is that he’s being fooled by yet another woman.’ He turned to Manolin. ‘Don’t be a fool, lad. Don’t be a fool again.’ ‘Look, I’m staying. I won’t have my life dictated to by an ageing gigolo. I want to be free of all your bickering, your in-fighting, your competition, your work. And it’s not because of a woman, it’s because I want to discover what it really means to exist. It can’t be done in that city.’
They looked at each other without flinching or exchanging a word. Manolin felt their relationship severing, the years together gone on the next and last boat out. All that remained now was their stares.
‘Manny,’ Becq said. ‘Don’t be like this.’
‘Look, Becq,’ Manolin said, ‘I’m sorry. But your father has spent most of his life controlling me. Yes, I’m grateful. But sometimes an old man gets jealous from failing his own life.’ He glanced up at Santiago then looked Becq right in the eye. ‘I know you felt something for me-’
‘She’s always made bad decisions,’ Santiago said.
‘For once in your life don’t speak. Don’t be the man you’ve always been, the type most men are, and just think about your daughter’s emotions.’ Manolin looked at Becq and said, ‘You’ve felt something for me, haven’t you?’
She gave a vague smile, strong, not wanting to show any defeat. A few months ago she would be upset now, but the island had changed her.
‘I think you’re smashing,’ he said. ‘I really do, but your head is screwed on properly. You should find yourself a decent man.’ He was amazed at how confidently he spoke. He had never been like that before. ‘I’m not going to patronise you like some-’ he glanced at Santiago ‘but I think you know as well as I do that you’ve changed since you’ve been here. You’re more than capable of getting some of what you want.’
Becq smiled vaguely.
‘Oh, please,’ Santiago said. ‘Spare me your false he
roics. The girl’s better off without a wet bastard like you anyway.’ He ushered his daughter away from Manolin, and placed her between Yana and Jefry. Yana put her arms around Becq. Santiago turned back, speaking aloud, ‘Besides, by all accounts, his sexual technique isn’t enough to keep a woman.’ He looked directly at Manolin. ‘What was it then? Just didn’t satisfy your wife?’
Manolin felt like he’d become enlightened over night. None of these words mattered. None of it effected him the slightest. ‘Do you realise how pathetic you sound?’
‘About as pathetic as you fucking a girl? You’re not even a man, you’re still a boy, aren’t you?’ Yana and Jefry pulled Becq away then walked her past the raft and along the beach. ‘You never did get Yana, did you? Is that why you’re jealous?’
‘Why would I be jealous? Your wife slept with other men -doesn’t that say something? Men, not boys.’
Manolin looked away.
‘Ah, touching a nerve.’
‘Why would I care anyway? Look what I’ve got for the rest of my life-’ Manolin indicated back towards Myranda’s hut, the forest, the sea. ‘Don’t think you can get anything as wonderful as Myranda at your age, can you? At least not without paying.’
‘Think you’re so clever, staying here, don’t you?’ Santiago said.
‘Not at all. I just want to get away from everything, permanently. Anyway, I care for nature. There’s no point me studying it through books. I need to stay. Here, I have a role, I have something that I can call mine. Forb’s work wasn’t complete.’ Then, ‘And there’s something about you, Santiago DeBrelt, that I don’t entirely trust.’
Santiago looked out to the horizon, towards the reef. ‘No, I don’t suppose you can trust anyone if you’re such a weak boy.’
‘Why am I weak?’ Manolin said.
‘For bailing out of life.’
‘You think that’s easy? The easy thing is to go back. Go back to the fucking city, chasing a career till I die. Go back to an empty life and carry on as if nothing has happened. That’s what everyone else does-just carry on, doing whatever they think they have to, until they get like you. Old and desperate. No, the hard thing to do is to break my mind away from that way of thinking and adopt whatever I’ll find here.’
‘And just what is that going to be?’
Manolin shrugged. ‘That’s the part I’m looking forward to. Whatever Arya has to offer me. It’s about how you live life. Here I can actually grow up. I can work with good, honest folk. I can feel the sun on my skin. I can feel the warm waters every time I swim. I can eat wholesome food. I can breathe clean air. This place is more hands on, you know.’
‘Aren’t you just escaping things at home, really? Escaping real life?’ Santiago said.
‘Nah, escaping’s what some people do when they spend all their time reading bad books, watching bad plays. Or, when they work so hard they find that they’ve forgotten to live. The thing is, I’m still with real stuff. You can’t break everything into components. Like what you do when you work and rationalise everything; rationalise yourself into an early grave. You can only break things down so small ‘til you realise you’re not seeing the real world anymore. You treat everything as if it were a problem, a puzzle.’
Santiago grunted a laugh. ‘And what would you know? You’re only young; you’ve not old enough to know how to go about life.’
‘The world can’t be solved, San. That’s not the point. You’re not meant to solve everything.’ Manolin could see something fade in the old man. A light went out, somewhere deep within.
‘Nonsense,’ Santiago said. He was looking past Manolin now, at nothing in particular. Perhaps, Manolin thought, there’s no longer anything for him to look at.
‘Anyway, this isn’t escaping. It’s how I always saw science going. Less rational, more holistic. Hands on. Everything is connected in some way-you told me that once, although I’m not sure you believed it. And I’m studying things here for me, not anyone else, not for the sake of academia. What’s the point of that, really?’
Santiago shrugged, shook his head. ‘So, what are you going to do about your house back in Escha? And all your belongings?’
‘You take ‘em. Buy another wife.’
Slowly, Santiago gave a tight nod, placing his hands on his hips. ‘Might just do that.’
Manolin smiled. The tensions had faded. There was nothing but talk on philosophy, and that could have gone on for days. Nothing remained to be said.
‘So, this is it then?’ Santiago said.
‘Yep.’ Manolin stretched out his hand. ‘This is it.’
Santiago looked down at the offered hand and back up at Manolin’s face, and his expression suggested he was surprised to see such a sure person behind Manolin’s eyes.
The two men shook hands.
‘I didn’t mean any of that malarkey,’ Santiago said.
‘I know,’ Manolin said.
‘Since when did you get so wise?’
‘Since last night.’
‘I bet you did,’ Santiago said. ‘Never heard you returning. She is charming, I’ll give you that. Enjoy her.’ ‘Nothing happened, and we will enjoy each other, thank you very much. You could be a tad less misogynistic.’
‘When have you known me not to be?’ Santiago said.
Manolin sighed. ‘You’ll never change, will you?’
‘Don’t plan on it, lad. Bit late for that. Look, the others are coming back now. I’d best get my stuff away.’ Manolin said, ‘Right. Look, San,just what is going on?’ ‘Eh?’ ‘The thing ... The thing we saw in the reef,’ Manolin said. ‘You know what it is, don’t you?’ ‘Nonsense,’ Santiago said. ‘Look, we’d better get our bags on board.’ ‘But why have there been no more attacks? Do you at least know that?’
‘Well, it’s probably from the electrocution on Pilar. That was probably enough to sort them out for a few weeks. Possibly months. I don’t know exactly. Maybe they’re too scared to surface again. Don’t forget, we scared them off that night. It only takes a couple of muskets.’
‘Right.’ Manolin picked up one of Santiago’s bags and placed it on the raft. He stood back as Yana, Jefry and Becq returned. Out at sea he could see the horizon clearing, and the clouds were becoming thin. The wind dropped.
‘You two friends again?’ Yana asked.
Manolin smiled. ‘Yeah. So this is it, guys. I’m staying.’
‘Rather you than me,’ she said.
‘Are you sure?’ Becq asked.
Manolin nodded.
Yana stepped over and hugged him, giving him a peck on the cheek. ‘Look after yourself, won’t you.’
He held his hand out to Jefry, who turned away to place his bag on the raft. The rumel sat on the raft, rested his arms on his knees, looked out to the ship. Yana looked at Manolin in a way that told him all he needed to know. She joined Jefry and Santiago followed.
Manolin nodded to Becq. She turned, walked away, joined the others on the raft and a group of villagers gathered there to bid farewell. He hoped she would let him go, that she wouldn’t internalise things any more than she already had. Relationships were certainly a complex thing, he considered, especially when they never had a chance to be shown physically.
Manolin noticed a small bag still on the beach. ‘Santiago, you forgot this!’ ‘Keep it, lad,’ Santiago said. ‘That’s yours. Just in case you need it.’
‘All right.’ Manolin bent over and had a quick look in the bag. There were several pistols inside. He frowned, stood up, but the raft had already pushed off for the ship.
Manolin stared at his connection with the mainland sailing away.
‘They’ve gone then?’ Myranda asked, having appeared at his side.
‘Yep.’ It was a strange sensation now that he had made the decision. Would he regret it? It was something he’d never know.
‘Why did you always fall out?’ Myranda said. ‘You were always such an unstable group. You brought so many problems to this island.’ ‘That’s human and ru
mel nature, Myranda. We’re not like the natural world. I’ve always thought this.’
‘How do you mean?’ she said.
‘In nature, systems move towards stability as the end point. The end point is something like a complex and stable forest. It’s the sort of thing I’ve spent most of my life studying. Humans and rumel are different. They just love to break every relationship up-in nature and within themselves. They can’t help it. Call it the powers of irrational thought.’
‘We won’t break up, will we?’ She took his hand in hers.
He looked down at her, seeing her big eyes that were rounded at the bottom, staring up at him. He looked over her gently perspiring face, and followed the lines of her nose and lips.
He said, ‘Hell, no. We can be the exception.’
Santiago, standing with his hands on his hips, looked back as the raft backed away from Arya. He could see Manolin’s white shirt standing out in the crowd of almost naked villagers. To his right he took one last look at the lagoon, the huts. Behind the villagers was the forest, and behind that was the volcano. The warm breeze escalated as the raft moved further out. He could feel it in his hair. He could see Myranda standing alongside Manolin. They were holding hands.
Was there any anger inside of him? On the surface, yes, Santiago would admit that. Perhaps he felt that Manolin was brave for taking a route he never would have the guts to. Perhaps being left in paradise was something to be jealous about. Santiago had known Manolin for years, and all that was for nothing. Manolin didn’t seem that grateful about just how much Santiago had done for him. Maybe he would be unaware of that forever. It would be a loss to science, to see such a bright mind being left here, without anyone to benefit. Vaguely, Santiago wondered what would become of the young man.
As the raft rounded the corner of a sandbank, crowned with palms, he lost sight of them.
On board DeBrelt One, Santiago drew up by rope the last of the bags. He had spent the early morning loading food, fruit and meat, on board. The deck looked like a grocer’s market. When he had almost cleared it, he put the sails up then used the motors to push the boat out of the bay. Once it was moving, he shut the motors off, allowed the sails to snap out as wind caught them.
The Reef Page 35
