Unexpected Hero

by Craig Goodwin

  He spoke to Laura in his native tongue, which she couldn’t understand in the least. His body language was clear, however; he wanted her to sit directly across from him in the circle, with Benji to her right.

  All the men in the room wore t-shirts and brightly-colored sheets around their waists that hung to their ankles. Josefa seemed to be the only man less than forty years old and, of the older men, Peter was the only one who spoke English.

  All of the men said bula to their guests, which Benji figured to mean ‘welcome’ or ‘hello.’ The chief nodded to Laura and Benji in turn, an animated smile complementing his round face and warm eyes.

  Seikz carried in a small brown paper bag, a large white cloth that looked like it had been cut out of a t-shirt, and a five gallon jug of water, placing them next to the bowl.

  Josefa leaned close to Benji and whispered in his ear. “That bag has the kava root in it, ground up. There are a couple of jugs of water like that for you and your mom. We boiled it all yesterday.” Benji’s face must have given away his confusion, because Josefa continued, “We are used to it, so the water here does not harm us, but if you drink it without boiling it first your stomach will feel sick. You will spend a lot of time on the toilet.”

  Benji nodded, grateful they’d thought to do this for their guests. The last thing he wanted was spend his big adventure on the can.

  “Usually the sevusevu is only for the older men, but you are special guests here, vavalungi—foreigners—and the chief wants you to feel very welcome.”

  “I’m honored.” Benji’s heart lifted at this special consideration. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had gone out of their way for him—except for all those times his classmates had gone out of their way to make his life miserable.

  “I told him about what happened at the airport and what you told me in the jeep, Laura. He was not happy, but do not worry. The chief wants you to stay here. He says you are safe in Malakati.”

  Benji felt a lump in his throat. He nodded to the chief, who had been watching the discussion. “Thank you.”

  Seikz filled the bowl with water from the jug and poured a pale, grey powder from the brown paper bag into the center of the cloth. He then twisted the cloth shut. He placed this bundle into the bowl and began to massage it, soaking up the water and pushing it back out through the fabric, sort of like water through a coffee filter.

  With each squeeze of the makeshift filter, the contents of the bowl began to turn grey. After about five minutes, Seikz squeezed out the cloth one last time, then took it, the brown bag, and the jug of water from the circle and placed them against the wall.

  He returned to the center of the circle and picked up two coconut shell halves. One half he used as a ladle to scoop the liquid from the bowl, and the other half served as the cup, into which he poured the drink before handing it to the chief.

  The older man clapped his hands once while looking Laura in the eye, said bula, and then took the coconut bowl and drank the contents in one long gulp. He handed the bowl back to Seikz and the process was repeated with Laura. She imitated the chief, clapping once and saying bula. She tried to take the drink in one go, but had to stop to take a breath between gulps. She gave a small grimace as she handed the bowl back to Seikz. The men smiled.

  Peter took the next bowlful, followed by Benji. He clapped once and took the coconut bowl in his hands.

  “Bula.” Bottoms up.

  The gritty liquid tasted like dirt, but he drank the whole bowlful in one gulp. A small shiver ran through him and he handed it back. He looked around and saw the elders chuckling. The chief said something to him in Fijian and Benji looked to Josefa to translate.

  “He said you did a good job. They didn’t know if the Americans would be able to drink kava and he is impressed.”

  Benji was unable to hold back his grin. He just got complimented by the chief!

  Seikz moved on, continuing around the circle, and the ceremonial silence broke. Conversation and laughter began, bringing a relaxed atmosphere to the chief’s home. Laura and Benji found themselves answering, through Josefa and Seikz, all sorts of questions from the men. Where were they from? What was it like there? What was their house like? Did they have a car? During a lull in the interrogation, Benji leaned towards Josefa.

  “When can we ask the chief about what Trent and his dad were saying?”

  “When we finish the first bowl of kava, then we ask.”

  “But we just did.”

  “Not the coconut, the bowl.” He pointed to the big plastic bowl in the center of the circle.

  “Oh. How much kava will we drink?”

  “As much as the chief wants.”

  The coconut bowl continued to make its rounds. Benji drank again. And again. After his third time, he began to feel…weird.

  “Josefa…my brain feels kind of…fuzzy.”

  The Fijian laughed with his hands on his big, shaking belly and his head tilted back. “Do not worry, Benji. It is normal for kava to make you feel a little strange.”

  “And…uh…I can’t really feel my tongue.” Benji moved his tongue around his mouth, making sure it still worked okay.

  Josefa laughed again. “That is normal, too.”

  Seikz came and sat next to Laura. Another of the younger men took his place in preparing the next bowl of kava. He leaned in and spoke to her and Benji.

  “I asked the chief about what that boy said, about the ruby and the descendants. He knows this legend. Josefa and I will translate it for you.”

  12.

  The legend of the descendants

  The chief played to his audience as he spoke, gesturing with his hands and raising and lowering his voice. He was clearly a man who loved to tell stories. Benji watched with rapt attention as Josefa whispered the translation in his ear.

  “Many generations ago, a white explorer came to Fiji from beyond the horizon. The man’s name was Ferdinand Magellan. You know of him?”

  “Yeah.” Benji nodded. “He was the first person to try to sail around the world."

  He listened as the chief told the six hundred year old story of Magellan’s arrival to the island and all that followed. Around the circle, Benji saw the Fijians lean towards the chief, drawn in by his suspenseful tale. Magellan’s battle in the valley excited Benji more than his adventure novels ever could. He felt bad for the captain for his crushing defeat and nearly shouted encouragement as the chief recounted every sword slash and war club swing of the Magellan’s duel with the warrior. He spoke of the ruby and Magellan’s affair with the beautiful Fijian woman.

  “The foreigners were at last strong enough to return to their ship and the two lovers parted ways,” Josefa continued. “Later, she found she was with child and gave birth to a light-skinned son who, in time, became a great warrior. This woman who had fallen in love with Ferdinand Magellan, the great explorer, was the chief’s daughter, his only child.

  “When he was a grown man, Magellan’s son became chief of the village. Since then, his line has continued unbroken to this day. Possession of the ruby has passed through the generations, and it now resides in a cave on a mountainside, guarded by Magellan’s descendants.”

  13.

  Daydreams alive

  “Wow! So that’s what they’re after! Trent and his dad want to find the ruby and kill the descendants to make sure no one can come back and claim it,” Benji said, but then he frowned. “Wait, my history books never said anything about Magellan coming to Fiji, or anything about a ruby.”

  Laura leaned over to look at her son. “Benji, do you think the first man to try and sail around the world would want everyone to know he had discovered and then lost the biggest ruby ever found? Plus, wasn’t he married?”

  “Good point.”

  “It is just a legend, anyway,” Josefa said. “There are no villages on Viti Levu with a light-skinned chief descended from a Portuguese sailor.” Benji was quiet for a moment, accepting his fifth cup of kava of
the evening. Focusing on conversation was becoming difficult—everything was sort of blurring together.

  “Is it possible there are villages in the mountains no one knows about?” Benji asked.

  The big Fijian shrugged. “Maybe, but I doubt it.”

  “But it’s possible?”

  He shrugged again.

  “Could you tell the chief ‘thank you’ for me, for telling us this story?”

  “Of course.” Josefa spoke briefly to the chief in Fijian, and a smile crossed the old man’s face as he nodded to Benji.

  Josefa left the circle for a moment, and returned with a battered guitar. With its dents, scratches, and two missing strings, it seemed like it had suffered a long, rough life. When Josefa began to play, off-tune notes filled the room just right, and his gruff Fijian voice transformed in a beautiful baritone ballad. His younger brother joined him and their voices harmonized like it was meant to be, like they had been singing together since childhood.

  Benji sat watching them without understanding a single word they sang, but at the same time recognizing it as the most beautiful song he’d ever heard. Their voices faded with the music and ended in silence. The older Fijian men mumbled what he assumed were compliments. Benji and his mother both clapped, bringing smiles to the faces of the men around them.

  “That was amazing!”

  “Incredible,” Laura said. “You two are very talented.”

  They smiled and started another song. This time some of the other men sang as well, their bass voices mixing naturally with Josefa’s and Seikz’s. The kava bowls kept coming and the evening flowed along with more songs and stories.

  Benji could hardly believe what was happening. His math class daydreams were coming to life. Here he sat, on the floor of a chief’s home in a village located in the mountains of Fiji, taking part in a native custom that went back thousands of years. He pinched himself to be sure it wasn’t all a dream.

  Fantasy or not, the combination of jet lag, getting shot at, and innumerable cups of kava crashed on his shoulders in one exhausting blow. After the fifth or sixth yawn, Seikz asked him if he would like to head to bed. Benji nodded and was helped to his feet. He stood on legs that felt like rubber as his mind spun. What was in that kava?

  He bid everyone a good night and his host guided him through the door. His mother stayed, drinking and laughing with the Fijians deep into the night.

  “Oh. My. God.” Benji craned his neck back as far as it would go and looked at the most beautiful night sky he’d ever seen.

  There was no man-made light, no smog, no pollution to sour his view of the heavens. The stars numbered in the billions, hardly a space between one shimmering dot and the next. His eyes followed the purple, swirling Milky Way from one horizon to the other like a celestial rainbow crossing the Fijian sky.

  He turned to Seikz with wide eyes. “Seikz, this is amazing. How do you not just lay out here all night long and look at the stars?”

  “You do not have stars at home?”

  “Well, yeah, we do, but nothing like this. With all the street lights and cars and all that you can hardly see anything. Sometimes all I can see is the big dipper and maybe another constellation or two. But this…this is awesome.”

  Seikz smiled at him. “I am glad our sky makes you so happy.”

  They made their way back to Seikz’s bure. Benji rolled his sleeping bag out onto the mattress and crawled inside, comfortably warm in the cool mountain night. His worries had fallen away, lost amongst the stars.

  He fell asleep with his hat on his head and a smile etched across his face.

  14.

  Plan B?

  The sun wasn’t yet peeking over the mountains when Benji accepted a hot cup of instant coffee from Seikz, along with a bowl of oatmeal. They sat on stools by the kitchen, which was set a few yards back from the hut so no stray embers would set the home aflame. Benji sipped his coffee and looked around at the village, the mountains, the trees. The sound of the river running along the edge of the village set a peaceful tone.

  “I love it here, Seikz.”

  The Fijian smiled.

  “Good morning!” Benji heard his mother’s voice ring out.

  Laura and Josefa strolled down the walkway between the homes, each with a mug of coffee in hand.

  “Did you sleep okay?” Laura asked her son.

  “Like the dead. Once I laid down I was out. How much longer did you stay up after I left?”

  “At least another two hours. Those guys really love their kava.”

  Seikz laughed.

  “Sometimes too much. Last year our chief told all the men they could not drink kava for a month. It was all they did! They sat all day and drank kava and did nothing else. The women did all the work.”

  Benji smiled and looked at Josefa, eyebrow raised. He grinned and shrugged. The American laughed.

  Laura said to Benji, “I think we should have a talk. Seikz, do you mind if we borrow your bure?”

  He said it was fine, and turned to speak with Josefa about an upcoming trip to the market. Laura and Benji ducked into the dim home and stood for a moment in awkward silence.

  “I’m sorry, Benji, for not telling you why we were going to Fiji—“

  “I get it, Mom, really. You were trying to keep me safe, but I’m not a little kid.”

  “I know you aren’t a little kid. It’s just…I can’t lose you, too.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Benji insisted. “Just let me help!”

  “You don’t know whether you’ll be fine,” she said. “Yesterday you almost died because of me.”

  He shrugged. He couldn’t argue against that. She was right.

  “I tell you what,” she said as she pulled a folded piece of paper from her pocket. “This is a printout of the map I got from your father’s contact at Ironside Enterprises. You hold on to it.”

  Benji took it from her and opened it up. It was a topographic map—the kind that’s full of lines, called contours, which show changes in elevation through the distance between the lines. The closer the contours are to each other, the steeper the ground.

  The map his mom had given him was only a section of a larger map. He saw rivers and roads, along with mountains and valleys and little black squares that represented buildings. There weren’t many of those, which told Benji the map was of a remote part of the highlands.

  “I don’t know where the village is that Ironside is after,” Laura said. “All I have to go on is this map, plus what you overheard at the airport. The information from the contact was very vague. We’ve already learned more on this trip than I knew beforehand. Take a good look at the map. See if you can figure out what I’m missing and find that village.”

  Benji nodded absentmindedly, already lost in examining the map.

  “Mom, what’s your plan?” He traced a river with his finger, noticing here and there places that would likely have waterfalls.

  “My original plan was to find the ruby before Ironside, then turn it over to the police and tell them about the situation. Now, though…I’ll figure something else out.”

  He nodded again.

  “On another topic, I’m going to join Josefa on a little hike. Something’s wrong with their water supply—it’s down to a trickle—and we’re going see if we can figure out what’s causing it. Put the map away, let’s go back outside.”

  Reluctantly, Benji folded it up and slid it into the outside pocket of his backpack.

  “Why do you have to go for a hike?” He asked as he followed her out of the bure.

  Josefa pointed to one of the mountains towering over the village.

  “We get our water from there. There is a spring halfway up. We will follow the pipe from our tank up to the spring and see if there is a leak, or if maybe something is blocking it.”

  “Do you want to come with us?” Laura asked.

  “I was thinking,” Seikz interrupted, “Benji could come with me. This morning we go cliff jumping.” r />
  Benji looked at his mom with big puppy eyes. She smiled and he grinned back at her.

  “That sounds like fun. Be safe.”

  After finishing their coffee and breakfast, Benji grabbed his backpack from the bure and followed Seikz to the river and the trail that would take them to the cliff. Two other Fijian teens were already standing at the trailhead, waiting for Seikz and his American visitor.

  “Benji,” Seikz said as they approached the pair, “These are my friends James and Temo.”

  “Bula, Benji.” The taller and skinnier of the two, James, stepped forward and took Benji’s hand in a vice grip.

  “Bula,” Temo said, who was about Benji’s height and maybe twice as wide around.

  “It’s nice to meet you guys.” Benji wiggled his fingers as he brought his hand back to his side, just to make sure they were still working the way they should.

  Seikz gestured upstream. “This way.”

  15.

  Questions and answers

  The three Fijians and their new American friend followed the trail deeper into the mountains. They crossed the river here and there, sometimes jumping from rock to rock, other times trudging through knee-high water. Benji caught glimpses of the view through the trees. He saw mountain after mountain covered in green forests, and waving grass dried a deep gold by the bright Fijian sun.

  "You guys live in such an awesome place."

  They smiled.

  "So besides cliff jumping, what else do you do for fun around here?"

  "We play rugby most days,” James said. “Sometimes we play against other villages. Temo doesn't think anyone knows, but he goes off and plays soccer with an Indian family not far from here."