In the Trees

by Pauline Fisk

  But the moment the old man started singing, Elena was forgotten. Suddenly Kid was transported back to Dangriga. It was as if he was standing in that bus terminal again, outside that music booth, captivated by a voice, wanting to know whose it was. Captivated by a song as well – which he was now hearing again, sung in the flesh.

  Kid pushed to the front of the crowd, utterly entranced. Like a mystery with hidden roots the song rose out of the old man like smoke out of darkness. It was accompanied by cheers, and cries of sheer delight. Clearly Kid wasn’t the only one who loved this song. The crowd started dancing, and he found himself caught up with them. It was as if something deep and dark had been uncorked and was being poured down them all. The crowd was singing along, and he sang with them. He mightn’t know the words – mightn’t even know the language – but it made no difference; he knew what the words meant. When Paul Nabor finished singing and announced his song’s name, it came as no surprise:

  ‘Naguya Nei’.

  ‘I Am Moving On’.

  Heading home that night beneath a ragged moon, Kid felt like a bottle of champagne fizzing with excitement at what lay ahead. Between those two magicians – the old man in the morning and this other one tonight – this was a day he’d never forget. As the south side of the island drew closer, Kid caught voices in the air and saw roll-ups glowing red on the ends of docks where people were enjoying the warm evening air.

  ‘I’ve got something I want to say to you …’

  Kid turned his head. Snow was just behind him, and there was something edgy about her. It wasn’t just her voice, it was the way she was sitting.

  ‘Can’t it wait?’ he said.

  ‘It’s been waiting all day,’ Snow said. ‘But there’s never a right minute. If I don’t do it now, I might miss the chance.’

  ‘Chance for what?’ said Kid. Not that he wanted to know. For Snow was going to spoil things. He could feel it coming.

  ‘Your chance for life,’ Snow said.

  ‘My chance for what?’ Kid said, taken aback.

  Snow explained. She’d had an email that morning from her father who’d heard about Kid and what a friend he’d been and everything he’d done for her. He reckoned that everyone deserved a chance, including Kid. To this end, he’d said that if Kid wanted to get on in life, he’d give him his support.

  ‘Support?’ Kid said.

  ‘His money actually,’ Snow said. ‘You know, to help you get an education.’

  Kid looked at Snow as if she were mad. An education? Only one sweet hour ago he’d been getting the only education a boy needed, courtesy of Paul Nabor.

  ‘What are you on about?’ he said.

  Snow flushed. This was proving harder than she’d expected. ‘I’m on about qualifications,’ she said. ‘A levels. Degrees. Diplomas. University. Whatever’s needed to get a start in life. That’s what my father’s offering you.’

  Kid shook his head. ‘But your father doesn’t know me,’ he said. ‘Why would he do that?’

  ‘Because you’re my friend,’ Snow said.

  ‘But you’ve got lots of friends,’ Kid said.

  ‘You’re the only one who saved me from a jaguar,’ Snow said.

  ‘I never saved you,’ Kid said. ‘There was never any danger. You know that.’

  ‘I know I do – but my father doesn’t. He thinks you saved my life.’

  Kid shook his head. Dimly he was aware that Hal, on the other side of Snow, was listening in, and other people were as well. ‘You mean your father would cough up all that money because of that?’ he said.

  ‘Are you saying my life’s not worth it?’

  Kid laughed. They both did. For a moment there the perfect evening had been in danger of being spoilt right at the end, but neither of them were going to let that happen.

  The boat came in to dock, and everybody jumped ashore and headed back to the hostel for what remained of the night. Tilda and Al sneaked off together, arms around each other as if something definitely was going on there, saying it wasn’t worth going to bed. Hal said even an hour’s sleep was worth it and the others agreed, all except for Kid who said he reckoned he’d stay up and watch the sunrise.

  Snow went up with the others. ‘Let’s talk again in the morning,’ she said in parting. ‘It’s not often Dad and I see eye to eye. So think about it. This could be your big break.’

  35

  UNDER THE SHADE, I FLOURISH

  Kid slept out on the palapa, rocking in one of Elena’s hammocks, soothed by the sound of palm trees shaking in the night breeze. The sea washed back and forth beneath him, but Kid didn’t see it. In his dreams he was back in school, pen in hand, sitting an exam which he didn’t know any answers to, Teacher Betty’s words ringing in his head like a funeral bell.

  ‘It isn’t fair … It isn’t fair … It isn’t fair … You English boys and girls, you have it all …’

  Next morning Kid awoke knowing what he had to do, even though he mightn’t want to. He went indoors to find people up before him, making coffee, eating breakfast, clearing out their rooms. He packed his rucksack, and hauled it downstairs to Elena’s office to tell her he was leaving and to settle up. She lay sprawled across a sofa in last night’s red dress.

  ‘Yes, yes,’ she said sourly when he said that he was off. ‘Go, go. You’re just like all the others. Quickly come and quickly gone – here for the sandy beaches, but not the hurricanes. Not the rainy season when the island’s all but washed away. Not the boredom of the winter months, stuck here with no visitors. Leave your money on the table and don’t slam the door. You may not have noticed, but I’m feeling fragile today.’

  Kid wanted to ask about Paul Nabor. He wanted to know all about paranda and the dark way it was sung. Before he could pluck up the courage to ask anything, however, the others came pouring in, wanting to settle up too.

  Elena yelled at them all to go away. She’d had enough of running a hostel, she said. She’d had enough of Caye Caulker. She’d had enough of Belize. It was a cruel country. Health, wealth, youth – it all got stripped away.

  People started creeping away. Then Elena felt guilty and made them come back. They made her a black coffee and she sorted out their bills as if doing them a favour. Belize might be a cruel country, she said, but it was also full of hope. They mightn’t know that, seeing it only with outsiders’ eyes, but she wanted them to remember it.

  ‘Whether for a better day, a better government or the chance to turn our fortunes round, it’s in our blood,’ she said. ‘Like a river rich with gold, we run with hope. It’s deep down in our soil, like buried oil. It’s as much our national heritage as Belikan beer – and why I’m telling you this I don’t know. You’re standing there wanting to go, and your water-taxi’s waiting, your plane’s leaving and the next backpackers are queuing to come in. Well, good for them. Good for you all.’

  Elena stopped at last. Her face looked ghastly. Picking up her coffee, she downed a paracetamol. ‘I’ve got a hangover,’ she said.

  Out on the balcony, Kid could see that Elena was right – the water-taxi had docked. He grabbed his rucksack and crossed the garden, waddling like a migrating turtle, the others hurrying after him. They made it on to the boat in time, but Hal left his flip-flops behind and Kid’s one regret was that he never said goodbye properly to Elena’s dogs.

  Snow sat beside him in the stern of the boat, where his eyes were fixed on Caye Caulker, drinking it in as if he’d never see it again. She didn’t ask what he’d decided to do but, realising how much she wanted to know, he told her anyway.

  ‘If there’s a cancellation, I’ll fly back with you. If not I’ll take the first flight I can. Some people would kill for a break like this. How can I turn it down?’

  Snow touched Kid’s hand as if she understood how hard this was. ‘You mustn’t think of this as goodbye,’ she said. ‘You’ll be back. We both will. Our whole lives lie ahead of us. One day we’ll return with our degrees to lead conservation projects of our own, and
I’ll be Candy and you’ll be Jez. It’s all a matter of having power, Kid. The power to do the things that need to be done. And education is power. I didn’t know that once, but I can see it now.’

  Kid was sure that she was right. But if that sort of power lay within his grasp, then why did he feel so powerless? And if his whole life lay ahead of him, then why did he feel as if everything that mattered had come to an end?

  Desperately, Kid tried to find something to hold on to, something that would make sense of his leaving. And suddenly the Duende’s words came into his head.

  ‘Home’s not a place. It’s a state of mind. The trees won’t leave you, when you go. They’re a way of life that’s all your own. They’re what you take everywhere you go. Once you’ve lived amongst them, you’ll always flourish in their shade. However far you travel, they’ll always be your home.’

  Kid felt better after that. The sea turned from blue to brown and the shoreline of Belize City came into view. Slowly it drew closer until he could make out warehouses along Haulover Creek and see crowds of tourists along its quays. A boat with a brown sail went dipping past, heading out to sea, then the water-taxi nosed into the creek and that was the moment when Caye Caulker really became a thing of the past.

  Kid heard the roar of traffic on the swing-bridge up ahead, and saw a new consignment of passengers waiting to embark. Their rucksacks looked new and their clothes freshly minted. Had they just come from the airport, Kid wondered. How many were bound for Elena’s hostel, and what would they make of her and her of them?

  Kid was the first ashore, wanting to get on with things and not to hang about. Inside the terminal building, the Spanish language school group made their goodbyes. Everybody promised to keep in email touch, or meet in England when they returned. This wasn’t goodbye for ever, they promised each other as the air-conditioned tourist coach to Guatemala pulled up. They were friends for life.

  The language people piled on board, still trying to shout things out and wave. But people piled in behind them and they were swallowed up. The coach began to pull away. No one could see each other any more.

  ‘Let’s get out of here,’ said Wallace – big man Wallace, shamelessly brushing tears out of his eyes and not minding who saw. ‘Where are we going? Does anybody know?’

  Everybody seemed to have different ideas – Joanne was all for finding a taxi, whereas Snow and Hal reckoned it would be cheaper to travel to the airport by bus. Amid the clamour of voices, Kid suddenly heard something he recognised. Something that really took him back.

  ‘How yu be so mean? Ai pay yu a compliment. Ai sing yu a song. Come back. Ai speakin’ to you. Why you walkin’ away from mi?’

  George the Jamaican. Kid laughed out loud. He couldn’t see the man, but he could imagine the nervous tourist trying to shake him off. ‘Ai speakin’ to yu,’ George called again. And suddenly he might have been talking to Kid.

  Kid froze to the spot. Why was he walking away? Did he even know? Was it because some girl in Blue Bank Springs hadn’t fallen in love with him? Or was it because she had? Or was it because old Cato had let him down? Or was it because Belize was a hard country, like Elena had said? Or was he walking away because of what he’d discovered about himself – an English boy like him, with opportunities that other people lacked, driven home by guilt?

  Somewhere ahead of him, Kid could see Wallace locating the taxi rank and waving everybody over. Luggage was being piled into the back of a minibus with sliding doors, and everybody was pushing their way in. Hal turned and looked for him. He had his old what’s Kid up to expression on his face. Snow was in the minibus now, wedged in against the window by Star Wars Al.

  ‘Hurry up,’ called Hal, catching sight of him amid the crowd on the sidewalk.

  Kid made a choice. ‘You go ahead,’ he called.

  ‘What did you just say?’

  ‘I said I’m staying.’

  ‘You’re doing what?’

  ‘You heard. I’m staying.’

  Hal pushed through the crowd. ‘What do you mean?’ he said. ‘There isn’t time for this. We’re meant to be at the airport. Stop messing about.’

  ‘I’m not messing about.’

  ‘Of course you are. We can’t leave you here alone.’

  ‘Why not? I came here alone.’

  The two of them stood staring at each other. Kid could see Hal struggling to grasp what was going on. ‘Let me get this straight,’ he said. ‘When you say you go ahead, you mean goodbye. And when you say you’re staying, you mean for good.’

  Kid nodded. ‘I’m going to start again,’ he said. ‘In all this time, just like Elena said, I’ve only ever seen Belize with an outsider’s eyes. But now I’m going to see with my own eyes. There’s a whole new journey waiting to be had, and a whole new set of lessons to be learned from scratch. And they might be hard. As hard as any lessons in any school. I mightn’t know where I’ll end up. But it’s what I’ve got to do.’

  Hal wanted to argue, but plainly didn’t know what to say. Behind him, Kid could see Snow at the minibus window, mouthing what’s going on? He turned away. A bigger man than him would have stayed to explain that her father’s offer, though kindly meant, would be better spent on someone else. And maybe Kid would be that man one day, but he wasn’t yet.

  Kid walked away. The throng of people on the street closed in around him. He could hear Hal calling out, ‘You’re making a terrible mistake.’ But Hal was wrong. Kid was too young for mistakes. He’d got time on his side.

  Kid headed across town, putting as much distance as possible between himself and the taxi-rank, just in case his resolve gave way. He dodged on and off sidewalks and cut across streets, horns honking at him. Only when he reached the local bus terminal, where the rattling tin-can local buses came in and out, did he allow himself to think about what he’d done. In a taxi to the airport were the members of his family, heading home without him. But then they’d always be his family, no matter what distance lay between them.

  That’s what families were all about.

  Kid sat on a bench, wondering what to do next. Whichever bus he chose, his journey would be slow, he guessed. But then so what? Maybe in his last life he’d hurried all the time, but things were different now. That’s what this new journey was all about. It was about learning lessons, and going slow. About taking time and seeing what life had to show him. Seeing it with fresh eyes.

  Two buses pulled up, one bound for Cayo District, its destination San Ignacio, the other heading down to Punta Gorda on the Southern Highway, passing Blue Bank springs. Kid checked the departure times for both, then returned to his bench and sat between them, remembering what Joseph had once said:

  ‘Before I do a thing, I always think.’

  AFTERWORD

  Hiking the Chiquibul Forest of Belize is a daring and challenging task, even for FCD rangers whose job it is to patrol these forests. And every time it has new surprises. In early 2008 I met Pauline in the Chiquibul Forest near an area named the Devil’s Backbone. To my surprise she had hiked the farthest distance our patrols reach, and was returning back in one piece! To this day I am inspired by this feat, since the hike is long and precarious, requiring stamina, rigor and, above all, a strong determined body.

  The Chiquibul Forest faces several threats ranging from farming and xate extraction to poaching and looting. To reclaim its integrity several interventions are in place, and using an adaptive management technique we are constantly on the search for new ideas and partnerships. Pauline had been convinced that the gap-year experience currently underway in the Chiquibul Forest was making a difference in the protection of the forest, and also to the lives of the young volunteers.

  The volunteers had been building an observation post for the Belizean military forces by the foothills of the Maya Mountains, nearby the Guatemalan border. Since its construction the presence of forces has curbed illegal farming in that area, yet the Chiquibul Forest remains under constant threats. At FCD we are strong believers
that everyone can make a difference protecting wilderness areas. It is not only moral to do so, but the survival of forests will make the planet a better place for human life. Perhaps recognising that reality and being a part of that change is what also makes a change to the lives of gap-year volunteers.

  The book written by Pauline, In the Trees, brings out this spirit of change. I hope that as you read this book it also motivates you to realise the changes that people like you can make on Earth even though it would seem that we are worlds apart.

  Rafael Manzanero

  Executive Director

  Friends for Conservation and Development

  (FCD)

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  For years I’d dreamt of writing a novel for young teenagers about the gap year experience. However, I had no idea what I was letting myself in for when, funded by the Authors’ Foundation and the Arts Council, I went out to Belize to research the phenomenon for myself. Belize is a truly beautiful country, but it’s not for the faint-hearted. Trekking through the Chiquibul Forest was the most challenging thing I’d ever done, but it was worth it to see at first hand the tragedy of despoliation taking place there, and the efforts being made by young volunteers, many straight from school, to stem the tide.

  I was so proud of the young people I met out there, and all that they were achieving. The forest was fabulous – as indeed was the whole of Belize, with its great natural beauty, wonderful people and cultural diversity – and I returned home to England determined to write a book that would do justice to all that I’d seen. I made some good friends out in Belize, and would like to thank them for all their help. I would also like to thank the people here who believed in my project when it was still only half-formed, and helped make it a reality.

  They include my agent, Laura Cecil, and my editor, Julia Heydon-Wells, who saw potential when all I had was a rough idea, and Emily Hardy, to whom fell the task of keeping control of my wayward manuscript; Adrian Johnson and the Arts Council; also my sponsors at the Authors’ Foundation, who jointly helped fund my research project; my husband, children and brother, who held the fort back at home when all sorts of dramas blew up during my absence.