by Tanya Allan
The next day, their warrior formed a circle on the ground and sat waiting, with an obvious peace gift awaiting us. He was a very big man, half an arm taller than I. He was also not a true white-skin, as he was the colour of a clay pot after the fire. Eventually, I entered the circle and accepted his offering. They were indeed powerful people, as they had metals and such food as I have never tasted before.
I returned and his woman came to him, and together we exchanged names. He was called Ed, while his woman was Gyl’ian. She was very beautiful, but in a different way to our women. She was thinner, but still had slim legs and firm breasts, even if they were smaller than our women’s.
There was much love between them, for they looked at each other much. They could speak together in silence, yet she was very wise. After many hours of exchanging names, she spoke in my language and she smiled. I knew then that these people were just as Russak had said; they were our friends. They were powerful, so I would hate to have them as enemies.
We held a council meeting, where Russak showed all the gifts to the council. There were beautiful pots of metal, and a metal knife, on which Droig cut himself, so sharp was the blade. There were beads, which the woman had shown me were for women to decorate themselves. Food, and a wonderful thing that enabled one to see oneself. These were not the gifts of enemies.
“Invite them to the village, bring them here,” Russak said.
There was much grumbling at this, clearly there were still those who wanted to destroy the strangers.
“Do you not realise, that we have been alone for too long? It was only a matter of time before the white-skins found us. It is far better that we find friends, who can ensure that we are not endangered. Their machines and tools are far too advanced for us, so we need friends. Believe me, these people are our friends,” Russak said.
“But how can you know this?” Droig asked.
“I know their spirits, and spirits don’t lie as men lie.”
So it was I went to their camp, and the white-skins returned with me to our village.
The woman with the hair of straw had a magic box. From this box she was able to speak to us in our tongue. Soon Russak was telling the white-skins of our history, and the evening was a long one. Food and drink was brought, while Russak spoke through the woman, telling them of our village, our people, and many of the things that had happened to the people over the years.
I watched the warrior, Ed, as he had only eyes for his woman. She was busy with her magic, so soon all the strangers were able to speak with us, and we learned the ways the world had changed since our ancestors came to this island.
Russak had been right. The world had moved on, while we had been forgotten. No longer did the slave ships ply the ocean, and no longer did the white-skins seek to take our tribes to work on their lands across the sea.
Over the next days I watched as their Shaman, Roja, spent much time with Russak, and they discussed the various remedies that Russak made from the plants and roots. One of the children became very sick, so even Russak was worried, yet Roja told Russak that it was an ‘Apindiks’.
Ed spoke on a small box, and several days later I joined him on their strange canoe as he found the gap in the rapids. We went to their bigger canoe where he collected many boxes of equipment. I met a friend of Ed’s called ‘Mikky’, who had once been a warrior with Ed. Again I was glad these were our friends, as their big canoe was made of metal.
We brought the boxes back to the village, so Roja, Ed and Gyl’ian took the child and laid him on a bench. They made the child sleep, as Roja proceeded to cut the child open and remove a small piece of his innards, and sew him up again.
Russak was so excited, so Roja told him what he was doing all the time, through the magic box of the woman. I did not like seeing the insides of the child, but Ed and his woman stayed to help, so I stayed too.
Another man, R’ssel, with his friend Syman, spent time talking to everyone, and particularly to Russak, to try to work out how our people had survived since our ancestors arrived.
They stayed with us for many weeks, and I learned many things from Ed. He was truly a great warrior, as he showed me how to fight without weapons. He showed me how to use the weight of a foe against himself, and of the parts of a man that were vulnerable to attack from the hands of another man.
Gyl’ian spent time with the women, showing them many things to make their lives easier. She started to teach the children to read their magic forms, called letters.
I taught Ed how to fish with a spear, and which fish tasted best. We went swimming off the reef, where we caught large crabs and shellfish for our feast. Gyl’ian came too, she was a good swimmer.
They were truly our friends, and even Droig apologised for wanting to kill them.
Chapter Four
Ed
We had been there for about five weeks, and the team were making excellent progress. The Islanders were a wonderful people, so once we had gained their trust, we simply became part of the village. We moved the camp into the village, and Gillian and I moved into a hut of our own.
Gorran and I became friends, spending much of the time fishing and teaching each other crafts that we had both learned over the years. I taught him the basics of unarmed combat, and he taught me much about the jungle he inhabited.
Gill excelled herself. Her program enabled everyone to pick up the basics of their language, and Russell, Roger and Simon were all able to undertake their in-depth studies of this small group. She even managed to teach many of the villagers some English, and I marvelled at her patience and skills in languages.
I was able to relax, so it became almost began to feel like a vacation, until Mickey called me on the radio.
“Landing party, this is Lucky Lucy, are you receiving? Over.”
“Go ahead Lucy, you are loud and clear.”
“Ed, we have just had a severe weather warning. There is a hurricane on the way from the West. Over.” Mickey’s voice sounded worried.
“Roger that, Mickey. When’s it due?”
“Three days at best.”
“Are you making for safety?” I asked.
“Affirmative, I have to. I can’t stay here. I will run for the nearest port south of here. I will return and pick you up later. Good luck.”
“Roger, same to you, buddy. Safe sailing!”
I went out to the point, to see the Lucy turn and head due south, the sky was clear and it was a beautiful morning. The lull before the storm.
I made my way back to the village and, as always, a group of children followed me. Gorran was helping thatch another hut. Ironically, it had been destroyed by the previous storm a few days before we arrived.
“Gorran, big storm coming,” I said to him, in his language. He frowned and looked to the sky. Then he shrugged and shook his head.
I went to Russak’s hut and found him in deep conversation with Russell and Roger.
“I hate to be a party pooper, but I have just had word from Mickey. There is one big mother of a storm building up and heading our way. He has had to take the Lucy south to find a safe port. So we are on our own, kids,” I said.
“Big storm,” I said to Russak, who went to the door of his hut and sniffed the air. He nodded, slowly, and shouted to Gorran, who seemed surprised that we both thought the same thing.
Storms on this small island were a serious event. As there was no real protection, the whole island was open to the terrible winds and also from the high seas. The only recourse was for the people to bury valuables, and then move to the high ground, away from where trees and other debris could fall on them, to take cover in makeshift caves and depressions which had been dug specially, over the last few generations.
As we had some warning, we were able to make an orderly evacuation and reduce the potential impact on the islanders.
We built several storm shelters on the lee of the larger hill. Effectively, these shelters were foxholes dug into the side of the hill, with channels dug so that any wa
ter would drain away. Palm leaf screens were placed over the entrances, to keep the worst of the wind and rain out. Our tents were taken down and stored. They would come in handy after the deluge was over.
I sat in a hole with Gillian, Gorran, his woman, Mila, Russak, and Russell. The storm hit us at 23:00, two and a half days later. It was a real humdinger of a hurricane.
Winds of over 100mph whipped the island, and then the rain attacked like heavy calibre machine guns. Children screamed and there wasn’t one person who wasn’t afraid.
Russell cowered and whimpered, hugging his knees. Mila and Gorran hugged each other, while Gillian wrapped her arms around me. I was afraid, but I knew that I couldn’t show it, even if I wanted to. I grinned at Russak, who also gave the appearance of being entirely unafraid.
By daylight, the world was calm, but I knew that the eye of the storm was directly above us, so that we were not finished yet. We managed to cook a meal and the children calmed down. It is amazing how much better the world appears with a full belly. They were obviously used to such storms, for with a short space of time, they were all relaxed.
But then the storm shifted and the winds started picking up again. Everyone took cover again, so we settled down to wait out the next round. I became aware of a woman calling, and this became more and more panicky as the winds grew stronger.
I left the shelter and saw a woman called Kali standing shouting for one of her many children.
Bose was a ten year-old boy, and a real character. It seems when the calm arrived he decided to return to the village for something. He had not returned.
I went back to the shelter and told Gillian I was going to go look for the missing boy. As expected she wanted to come too, but I managed to persuade her to stay. Gorran said he would come, so I agreed. Russak looked at me strangely, so I smiled at the old man.
The winds were fast now, over 80 mph, and the rain hurt when the large drops hit. Gorran and I made our way slowly down the hill, towards the village.
The devastation was immediately apparent. Fallen trees and mudslides made the journey hazardous, and the winds and driving rain made it even worse. We reached the village, but there was no sign of the boy. We saw that there was going to be much work required to repair the damage to the huts, then we started to search for the boy.
Eventually, the wind and rain became too much, so we decided to make our way back to the shelters. As we came up a rise, the ground seemed to disappear from under our feet, and Gorran found himself being swept down a gigantic mudslide.
I had grabbed a tree and scrabbled to solid ground. Once there, I followed his progress as quickly as I could, unravelling the coiled rope I had brought with me.
At one point I managed to get ahead of him, so I tied one end of the rope to a tree, and set off into the torrent. I was able to reach the centre of the torrent, where I grabbed and managed to catch his left ankle. Despite the swirling mud and water, I managed to get his arm, and secured a length of rope around his shoulder. I made it back to the bank, from where I slowly pulled him to safety.
We lay, exhausted and spluttering on the bank, when I heard a faint cry.
Then I heard it again. Gorran raised his eyes and I nodded. The child was alive, but where?
We shouted and an answer came back from our left somewhere. We pulled ourselves up, attempting to trace the origin. My right knee was aching something terrible, but I knew I had to go on.
The wind shrieked through the trees, while branches and debris flew past us at high speed. Suddenly, Gorran grabbed my arm and pointed.
There, twenty feet up a tree, was a small figure. At the foot of the tree the swirling muddy water tore up roots and bank as it carved a path to the sea. The child had climbed to get safe, but now the very tree looked as if it were about to topple into the waters.
I looked at Gorran, but saw he was near to total exhaustion. His experience in the water had taken a lot from him. I selected the most fixed boulder I could see and tied off my rope. Then I wrapped the rope around my waist. I then climbed the tree, and managed, after cutting my hands to shreds on the rough bark, to reach the child. He was terrified, so clung to the tree as if his life depended on it. I managed to loop the rope around his body, and had just tied it off, when the tree started to fall.
The child shrieked and clung to me, and we both fell into the water. I felt myself being tossed about until the rope tugged at me, signifying I was at the end.
Inch by inch I heaved myself back towards the rock, Bose was on my back, and spent most of the time screaming. At least I knew he was alive.
At last, with my arms almost falling off, I managed to hand the child to Gorran, and as I started to heave myself onto dry land, I felt immense pain in my leg, and I blacked out.
I don’t remember much, but at some point Gorran tried to carry me up a steep slope, so I told him to leave me and get the child to safety. Once there, he could get help to come and get me.
I must have blacked out again, as the pain in my knee was intense. I realised that my Marine days were well and truly over!
I came to when the doc, Roger, had put a splint on my knee. The guys had made a stretcher and had brought me up the hill. Gill was there, as ever, looking so worried, so I smiled at her. The pain was bad, and I was aware that the doc gave me a shot of something, so I passed out.
They kept me pretty doped up over the next few days, but I was able to get the radio working. Mickey was about a week away, but I knew that I was going to have difficulty getting off the island.
I was pretty dopey, but I woke up at one point to find that I was in Russak’s hut, and my hand was tied to Gill. I was lying on the floor, and could see Roger over by the door.
I had a strange feeling of calmness and as if this was what the whole of the trip was really about. I made some comment to Gilly, and she was as confused as I was.
The next thing I know, Gilly and I are spinning around in some smoke, and I felt really odd. One minute I am seeing her, and then I am looking at myself. There was a pain in my knee, and then I must have passed out again.
* * *
Gillian.
Typical bloody hero, Ed Ryan went off in the middle of a Hurricane to save a little child. I sat and waited, while the wind howled and the palm screen shook and rattled. They were ages, so I started to worry. Then Gorran came back with the little boy. He gave the crying boy to Kali, and then he came to me.
My heart sank, as his eyes had the pain in them, so I knew.
“Ed hurt,” he said, and I knew it must be bad.
I was so surprised, but within minutes nearly all the men were gathered, and although the worst of the storm was passed, it was still foul out there. I went with them, noting that Gorran was close to exhaustion.
Half an hour later, we came to a small bank by a torrent of muddy water. Ed was lying on his back, unconscious, and I saw his right foot was rotated an alarming degree.
He was a big man when standing up, but lying down he was even bigger. Poor Gorran had tried to carry 225lbs of US Marine and just had to give up.
They cut poles of bamboo and then they strapped some of his own rope across and made a stretcher, and managed to carry him back to the shelters.
By the time we reached the shelters, the wind had dropped and Roger came to meet us. Poor Gorran collapsed, so Mila took him into her shelter and wrapped him in a blanket. He was soaked and shivering.
Roger looked at Ed, and then his eyes met mine.
“He has completely knackered his right knee. I don’t have the facilities to sort him out here. He needs hospitalisation,” he said.
I felt a degree of anger, frustration and anguish that I had never experienced before. Anger at him for being such a hero, frustration at being so powerless to help him, and anguish as I knew that the injury would end his career.
I sat holding his hand and wept.
Roger gave him some pain-killers, and managed to align the leg properly, as Ed was unconscious, that was a good th
ing. He inflated a modern splint around the injured joint, and Russell arranged for one of the tents to be put up.
The storm slowly moved away, but it still spat at us in a nasty way, so we stayed at the shelters for another night. I sat next to Ed’s bed, just holding his hand. He lapsed in and out of consciousness, but said nothing.
At about four am, I was dozing, when I felt some pressure on my hand, so I looked at him. He was awake and his blue eyes were looking at me.
“Hi babe,” he said and I cried.
“Oh, Ed, you fool,” I said, to which he grinned. Then he winced, as he tried to move his leg.
“What happened?” he asked.
“You’ve finished off your right knee,” I said. He nodded.
At that moment Gorran came in. He saw Ed was awake, and he grinned at him.
“Hi Gorran. You made it then?” Ed said.
“You save me! Then you save Bose. I cannot leave you to die,” the man said. Ed nodded, and closed his eyes as the pain bit deep into him.
“Do you want me to get Roger, he gave you some pain killers earlier?” I asked, and he shook his head.
“No, if you kill the pain, I will think I am getting better. Are you okay?” he asked, and I cried again. I couldn’t speak, so I nodded, holding his hand tighter.
Roger and Russell came into the now crowded tent, and despite Ed’s protestations, Roger gave him a shot for the pain. Gorran then told us what had happened, and I could believe it, it was just like him, the silly sod.
The sun came up on a glorious morning. Clear blue skies and a calm sea, but the evidence of the hurricane’s strength lay in the devastation all about us. It took us two days to remove everyone and everything back to the village, so Ed was ensconced in his tent next to Russak’s hut, one of the few to pass unscathed through the last few days.
Roger and Russak discussed what to do with Ed, and it became obvious that the two men disagreed as to the best course of action. Ed managed to get the radio working, and eventually managed to get through to Lucky Lucy. But the ship was stuck several days away, so would not get here until at least five days had gone by. There was no hope of a helicopter evacuation, as we were just too far from any mainland. I was worried that we would not even be able to get Ed to the ship, as the rib was probably long gone by now!
