The Lost Island of Tamarind

by Nadia Aguiar

  Maya shuddered, a cold feeling in her stomach. Moments later she and Simon heard frantic squealing as the pigs were slaughtered on the deck of the ship. They kept walking, hoping to see someone who looked like they might be able to help. Farther down the dock, children were scooping jellyfish out of the sea and popping them beneath their tough bare feet. Simon was aghast. Why would they do something so cruel and pointless? A sailor came to the starboard railing of one of the ships and shouted down to the children with the jellyfish, who immediately began fighting and clawing one another for space on the edge of the dock, waving their hands in the air. The sailor tossed something down to them, but Maya couldn’t make out what it was when it sailed through the air. It passed over all of their heads and landed on the ground between Maya, Simon, Penny, and the other children.

  It was a freshly slaughtered pig’s hoof, still attached to a bloody stump of the creature’s ankle. The other children descended on the hoof, fighting for it, until one of them emerged from the pack with it raised triumphantly over his head. The heap of children rose disappointedly and brushed themselves off. As they did, one of the boys was shoved by one of the others and he bumped into Maya.

  “Hey,” he snarled. “What do you think you’re doing here?”

  He was around her age, Maya thought, but he had a hard, mean little face. He was about to run on after the others, who were leaving down the dock, but he stopped to catch his breath and stared at Maya and Simon. Then he took a step toward them, leering. They stepped back, dangerously close to the edge of the dock where the fins of the sharks circled in the water.

  “I said, ‘What do you think you’re doing here?’” he repeated.

  Maya froze and her palms began to sweat. Somehow an ordinary boy—not the terrifying soldiers who ambushed the barge, or an evil opera singer who kidnapped children, or the evil opera singer’s monkey henchmen, or even a simmering volcano—just an ordinary bully not much older than herself— frightened Maya more than anything else had so far. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. The boy took another step toward them and now their heels were teetering over the edge of the dock. Then, behind the boy, Maya caught sight of the poor deflated jellyfish, melting into shiny pools in the hot sun, and indignant anger welled in her.

  “I’ve had enough!” she shouted.

  There was a rotting gutted fish carcass on the dock next to her. It smelled putrid in the hot sun. As the boy took another step toward her, she kicked it hard. It flew through the air and struck him on the chin, leaving a greasy smear on his shirt. The boy looked shocked.

  Maya smiled.

  For a split second Simon was stunned at what Maya had done. Then he saw that the other children had noticed that something was happening and were coming back toward them down the dock. Much as he hated to back down, Simon knew that three (and one of them a baby) didn’t stand a chance against ten. He had to get his sisters out of there fast. He grabbed Maya’s elbow.

  “Run for your life!” he shouted.

  By then Maya had seen the other boys coming down the dock and had come to her senses. They ran as fast as they could, dodging fishermen and piles of nets heaped in the middle of the dock. Behind them they could hear that the pack of boys had broken into a run and were gaining on them fast, their bare feet thundering on the boards of the dock. Simon knew there was no way they could outrun them, especially with Maya carrying Penny. Leaving the dock, they ducked down a side street and for a moment they couldn’t hear the boys behind them. Simon grabbed Maya and pulled her inside an open doorway and they held their breath. Seconds later they saw the boys charge past.

  Sighing with relief, Maya and Simon turned to see that they were in one of the taverns, just a bare room with a long bar and round tables. The walls were stained with cooking grease and the smell from the kitchen turned Maya’s stomach. The room was filled with men—dirty, sea-worn sailors with bristly beards and missing teeth, who looked as if they had not seen soap in years. Filthy scarves were tied around their heads. Several of them had ears stretched into big, yawning oh’s by gold hoop earrings. As one of them lifted his arm to drain a pint glass, Maya saw that a blue sapphire sat in the place of a missing front tooth. Light reflected off the gun tucked into his belt. It hit Maya suddenly that these were not ordinary sailors. Simon realized it at the same time.

  “Pirates,” he breathed. His eyes shone.

  All the men turned to look at the children.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  At Mathilde’s * Little Jewelfish

  Maya and Simon dashed out of the tavern and ran down another side street. Thankfully none of the pirates followed them. Their hearts were still thumping, but there was no sign of the boys anywhere.

  “Those were real pirates in the tavern,” Simon said. “A whole nest of them!”

  Maya was not impressed at all by the thought of pirates. What were they were going to do now? She was deep in thought, trying to figure out what to do next, so at first she didn’t know what was happening when Simon shouted and began running down the street after something.

  “Simon, stop!” she shouted, and began running after him. What was he doing? There was no one behind them.

  Simon turned down a tiny street, and Maya followed a few paces behind—it was hard to run holding Penny—and then she saw that he was chasing something, something that was flying in the air ahead of them. It was a green parrot. A green parrot! Seagrape? Could it be? Had she found them again? Maya began running faster. Simon was already halfway down the next narrow alley when she turned the corner and found him stopped in the middle, looking all around him.

  “I’ve lost her!” he cried.

  Panting, Maya caught up with him and they looked down all the side streets, but there was no sign of the bird. Then Maya glimpsed a flash of green from the corner of her eye and she grabbed Simon’s arm and they began running down a narrow, crooked street after the parrot, who tilted her wings and soared neatly around another corner. The children had to slow down to make the turn, and as they came around the corner, they came face-to-face with Helix. He looked astonished to see them.

  “Helix,” cried Simon. “We found you!”

  They heard footsteps coming. Maya didn’t know if they belonged to the gang of boys, but she didn’t want to find out.

  “There are boys from the dock chasing us,” she said urgently.

  Helix glanced in the direction of the footsteps.

  “All right,” he said, turning to go the other way. “Follow me.”

  Helix took them down such a maze of paths and back alleys that Maya was thoroughly disoriented by the time they reached the little tin shack with blue curtains that he ushered them into. He shut the door behind them and quickly drew the curtains that faced the street.

  “Phew!” said Simon.

  “So,” said Helix, smiling at the three children. “We meet again.”

  “I knew we would!” said Simon. “I kept telling Maya we’d find you again.”

  Maya was just starting to realize that they were with Helix. Helix. Again! The day they had arrived on the island, with the vines and the singing sand and Dr. Limmermor, seemed like a million years ago. He caught her staring at him and she looked away, embarrassed.

  “Whose house is this?” she asked.

  “Mathilde’s,” replied Helix.

  “Who’s Mathilde?” asked Simon.

  “She used to take care of me, a long time ago,” said Helix. “I still stay here when I’m in Port Town. Don’t worry, she’ll be happy to see us. She’s a washerwoman—that’s why there’s so much laundry around here.”

  Maya began to relax. Maybe now they were safe. She looked around the room. The shack was just one room with a hard-packed dirt floor. Helix was right—there was laundry everywhere, heaped in piles to be washed, folded into crisply ironed stacks, and hanging to dry on a line outside the window. A big washtub stood in the center, and other tubs sat overturned in a corner. Off to one side a thin curtain parted the r
est of the room from what looked to be someone’s sleeping quarters. The back windows opened to a small yard on the hill where laundry fluttered in the breeze. Beyond the laundry was a view down to the harbor, where the pirate fleet was docked.

  She jumped, startled, when something flew into the room, getting tangled for a moment in the curtains. But it was just Seagrape. The parrot strutted around the middle of the room, flapping her wings and sending bits of downy feathers flying on the breeze, before she hopped onto a perch near the door and sat there, looking down at the children unblinkingly.

  “They can’t find us here?” Maya asked, glancing back out the window.

  Helix shook his head. “Nah. Just stay inside, and keep away from the window. You’re lucky—it’s market day today, there’s lots of people around.”

  “Hey look!” cried Simon, pointing across the room to where what Maya had thought was one of the overturned washtubs had suddenly stuck out its head and began to trundle slowly across the room. “A tortoise!” Simon went up to the tortoise and patted his shell, which was made up of beautiful, dusty green tiles.

  “Sit down if you want,” Helix said to Maya. “Mathilde will be home soon.”

  Maya sat down and Penny fell asleep immediately, leaning against her shoulder. Slowly the panic of the minutes before began to ebb.

  Helix smiled—he seemed happy to see them. “I want to hear what happened to you, after I left you at the river that day,” he said. “I guess you found a barge that brought you here?”

  The children told their story. When Helix heard about the soldiers who ambushed the barge he nodded gravely, but it was not until they reached the part about Evondra and the ophalla mines that Maya was sure she saw his face pale. But he said nothing and just kept listening. He seemed lost in his own thoughts as the story came to a close.

  “They escaped?” he asked finally. “All of the children?”

  “Yes,” said Simon. “All of them.”

  “And that woman, she drowned? You’re sure of that?”

  “Yes,” said Simon. “I’m sure she did—we could see her from the plane. We saw her go under.”

  “You had a lucky escape,” said Helix seriously.

  “Helix,” asked Simon. “Were you there? Were you the boy who escaped? Did Seagrape do something to Evondra and now she’s scared of you?”

  “Nope,” said Helix, suddenly breezy. “Sorry, kid. Wasn’t me or Seagrape. Just a coincidence—there’re lots of green parrots on this island.”

  “But why was Evondra scared of Seagrape’s feathers?” Simon asked, frowning. Helix just shrugged.

  Simon looked disappointed, but Maya could tell that he believed Helix. She didn’t want to think about the jungle now, though. She had a million questions to ask Helix—chief among them, how they could go about finding their father—but while the children had been inside the shack, the clouds had risen from the jungle and rolled down the hill and settled in snugly over the town. The room grew darker and then the rain began, a low drumming on the tin rooftops that made it difficult to hear one another. Helix ran outside to retrieve the laundry from the line.

  As he did, the front door opened. Startled, Maya spun around. But it was just an old woman with a bundle of laundry, a plastic scarf tied over her hair and her shoulders wet from the rain. She wiped her shoes on the mat, lowered the bundle to the ground, and propped up a faded old umbrella against the wall, a puddle soon forming beneath it. She didn’t seem surprised to see the children and she beamed when she caught sight of Helix.

  “There he is,” she said. “There’s my Helix come home and brought friends. Hello, little fishies.”

  Maya couldn’t help smiling. There was something warm and kind about the old woman and she liked her instantly. She had a plain, worn face with bright eyes and cheeks flushed from walking quickly through the weather, and she wore an apron dress over her well-padded frame.

  “This is Mathilde,” said Helix, going over to kiss her on the cheek. “Mathilde, meet Maya, Simon, Penny.”

  “How d’you do, how d’you do?” Mathilde said, still beaming. “What beautiful little fishies! Thank you, Helix, for bringing them to visit me.”

  “Sorry not to give any warning,” said Helix. “I just ran into them and they needed help so I brought them here. They’re looking for their father—he may be in Port Town. They have to keep out of sight for a while and I was hoping they could stay with you here, just until I figure something else out.”

  “Of course, starfish, of course! Don’t need to ask twice! But are they okay? Poor little ones, look at them! Good thing you’ve come here. Mathilde will take good care of you. We’ll have a nice big dinner for you—look at them, Helix, they need to eat, the loves! And Helix will draw you bathwater so you can wash up. A good washing up and by the time you’re done, Mathilde will have food ready for you, yes, that’s right.”

  Mathilde bustled around the room preparing dinner and clucking to herself. The bath was a steel tub behind a curtain in the corner. Helix filled it with hot water from the stove. Maya bathed Penny first, then gave her a grain mash with milk—real milk!—that Mathilde had sent Helix out to fetch. Simon bathed next, splashing and making a racket on the other side of the curtain.

  “Whoa,” he called. “You should see how dirty I was, the water’s practically black!”

  When Simon couldn’t find another speck of dirt on him to make the water dirtier he got out and emptied the water. He watched admiringly as it swilled down the drain.

  After Mathilde filled the tub with fresh hot water, Maya drew the curtain and undressed and sank down in the warm, soapy bath, feeling the grime loosening from her skin. She slid all the way underwater and scrubbed her scalp. A hot bath! Civilization! She felt drowsy and content. She would have liked to luxuriate there for hours but she could hear that dinner was almost on the table and so, reluctantly, she stepped out onto the mat Helix had laid out and she dried herself with a rough towel until her skin tingled. Clean! She felt entirely human for the first time in ages. She let the water out of the tub, shuddering to see how much grit had come off of her body—there were whole bits of leaves and twigs in there! They had bathed in the sea earlier that day, but there is some dirt that only soap and hot water can do anything about. When she reached for her clothes to put back on, she found that Mathilde had taken them and replaced them with a long white shirt that was so big it went past her knees. She felt a little silly but it was so good to be in something clean that she didn’t care. She combed out her hair as best as she could with her fingers and came out.

  “Hello,” said Mathilde cheerfully when Maya drew back the curtain. “I took those other clothes so I can give them a good washing for you. No sense getting all fresh and clean and putting on dirty clothes, is there?”

  “No,” murmured Maya. “Thank you so much.”

  She went over to check on Penny, who Mathilde had put in a wooden box with blankets in the corner. Penny was sleeping peacefully, her breath soft and her tiny hands bunched into fists.

  Dinner was a feast: boiled potatoes, heaps of codfish with tomato sauce, octopus stew, and grainy yellow cassava bread. The children ate without speaking. When they were finished, Maya realized just how tired she really was. Her arms and legs felt like lead and she could barely keep her eyes open. She glanced at Simon and he was nodding off across the table. Maya badly wanted to just curl up somewhere, anywhere, even right there at the table would have been fine, but she had to make a plan.

  “We need to figure out how we’re going to find our father,” she started to say.

  “Not tonight; tonight you rest,” said Mathilde, smiling.

  “But . . .” Maya started. She felt as if she were speaking underwater.

  “Tomorrow,” said Mathilde. “It can all wait until tomorrow.” She got up and helped Simon to his feet and led him, half asleep, to a mat in the corner. He lay down and she put a light blanket over him and within seconds he was breathing deeply and evenly.

  �
��Out like a light,” said Mathilde to Maya. “Come on, jewelfish, you should follow him. Here’s a bed for you right over here.”

  Maya wanted to object but she couldn’t seem to find the words. She was so tired. . . .

  Mathilde had Maya’s elbow and was taking her to a cane mat in the corner opposite of where Simon was sleeping. Maya mumbled something and the last thing she heard was Mathilde saying, “Sleep now, little jewelfish.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  MathildeTalks * Clues About Helix’s Past *

  A Sugarcane Crate * Giants’ Roads

  Maya and Simon slept through the morning. When they awoke, the rest of the town was just going inside for their siestas, and the streets were empty. Shutters banged shut and then everything was drowsy and quiet. Mathilde had been washing clothes all morning and on the clothesline outside the window, a row of dresses billowed like sails in the breeze. Helix was gone, and Seagrape with him. Penny had woken and Mathilde had fed her already.

  “Listen,” said Simon. “It’s siesta time. We nearly slept a whole day!”

  “You needed it,” said Mathilde. “You were exhausted, poor starfish. Now, how about some lunch for you? Helix will be out for the day. He said for you to stay put until he’s back this evening—he’ll be able to help you then. He’s a good boy, Helix.”

  Maya did not want to lose a whole day, but she was nervous about running into the boys from the dock and, anyway, she knew that Helix was probably their best resource. He’d been right about the jungle—she shouldn’t have doubted him before. He knew more about Port Town and Tamarind than they did and he could advise them what to do. Maya decided that they would stay put for now, and she would find out everything she could about Tamarind from Mathilde. Maybe she would learn something useful.