“Why go through all that trouble looking when the faces will disappear in a year anyhow?” Bernard’s tone was dismissive.
“Well, my idea is to use the marine concrete only for the body. For the heads, I’ll use something smoother, more resistant to growth. That way, the coral will grow up as a sort of blanket around the figures while their faces remain distinct. Not forever, of course. Nature eventually wins.”
“Hardly seems worth it.” Bernie helped himself to a second portion.
“All things pass. In a year, or a decade, or a century. You, me, this boat, everything. But that shouldn’t stop us from creating something lovely in the interim and cherishing it, should it?”
Kaia glanced over at her husband and Joanna instantly regretted the remark. These people were caring for her, and she had no business challenging their opinions, however subtly. “Anyhow, it’s fun while it lasts, and who would turn down two weeks diving in the Red Sea?” she added cheerfully.
“Mmm, whatever floats your boat,” Bernie replied, and emptied the wine bottle into his glass. “Me, I dive for the fish.”
“Oh, you’re a diver too. I should have guessed. With this fantastic boat, you can dive anywhere you want.”
“Yep, and I have too. Got all my own gear and even a compressor to fill my own air cylinders. Don’t have to depend on the shoddy crap they give you at the dive centers.”
Shoddy crap seemed an exaggeration, but Joanna veered away from the subject. “So you love the fish too. I’m always astonished by how gorgeous they are. Like living flowers.”
“No, I dive for fishing. I’m a spear-hunter from way back. I’ve also hunted big game on land, but who’s got time to go on safari every year, right? Spearfishing is almost as good and you get to sleep on a yacht instead of in a tent.”
Joanna hesitated a beat at the unexpected shift from beauty to blood sport, then replied pleasantly. “What sort of fish do you hunt?”
Bernard busied himself opening a second bottle of wine. “Whatever’s out there, but I’ve had particular luck with rock grouper. I’ve harpooned a few sharks too, just for the challenge. You know, one alpha hunter against another. And I always win. Too bad I wasn’t there when your shark attacked.”
Joanna wondered at the comparison between a beast hunting for food and a man hunting for pleasure, but declined to remark on it. “Yes, too bad,” she said.
Kaia spoke up gently. “Unfortunately, we found out that spearfishing is illegal in Egypt. A shore-patrol boat came by last week just as Bernard was coming aboard with a catch. They confiscated the fish and we had to pay a large fine. We can still fish from the surface, if we go far enough out, but it sort of put a damper on things.”
Bernard refilled their glasses. “Yeah, but it takes more than a little fine to stop me. That incident was near Ras Mohammed where the eco-fanatics are on the lookout. But south of Hurghada you can still spear a few and not get caught, and the risk is part of the fun.”
Joanna could think of nothing to reply to the boast of criminality but noted that Kaia was also silent. “Do you dive too?” Joanna asked her.
“No. I keep asking Bernard to teach me, but he hasn’t got the patience. I suppose one of these days I’ll take a formal course. It does look like fun.”
“I just don’t like the idea of you being on the scene while spear-hunters are shooting off their darts,” Bernard said. “And even when no one’s spearing, there are too many ways to get injured down there. We want to protect that pretty face, don’t we?”
Joanna’s hand went involuntarily to the side of her cheek, and an awkward moment of silence followed.
Kaia filled it. “Oh, by the way, Charlie called this afternoon while you were sleeping. He asked if he could come visit you tomorrow and I told him yes. Is that all right?”
“Of course. That’s fine. Charlie’s been so good, and we need to talk about how to proceed from here. I couldn’t do without him.”
Bernie looked at his watch. “Ah, nine o’clock. I promised to meet someone in El Gouna this evening for a drink.” He wiped his mouth with a linen napkin and stood up from the table. “If you’ll excuse me,” he said, and walked through the salon. He stopped on the other side of the glass doors and drew a cigar from his shirt pocket. He bit off the tip, lit it with a Zippo lighter, and descended the stairs to the stern deck.
Joanna watched him, puzzled at his brusqueness, then shrugged inwardly. “Can I help you with the dishes?”
“Dishes? Oh, no. That’s what we pay Abdullah for. Come on. If you’re not too tired, we can go and sit on the stern deck for a while.” Kaia stood up and helped Joanna to her feet, picking up her cane from the floor. “Is that what they gave you at the hospital?” she asked, holding out the aluminum stick with the blue plastic handle.
“Yes. Ugly, isn’t it? I’ll be glad to get rid of it.”
Kaia was silent for a moment, as if considering something. “You know, I have a carved walking stick from my father. I’ve had it for years, thinking I’d use it sometime on a hike. But you know, I just don’t ever hike. Why don’t you use it for a while, until you’re back on two feet? It’s probably not as efficient as this one, but it’s much more attractive. Or has that remark just revealed how shallow I am?”
Joanna smiled at the self-deprecation. “Of course not. One wants to limp stylishly. I’d be honored, but are you sure? I mean, it’s a family heirloom.”
“It’s only a walking stick, and yes, I’m sure. Just wait a minute while I look for it. I’m pretty sure it’s in the storage locker under the bow.”
In a few minutes Kaia was back, holding a curious object, not at all what Joanna had expected. The main stock was twisted wood stained and varnished. Its handle, fastened diagonally at the top of the stock with a metal band, was a bright-red bird with black wing tips and a long, curved salmon-colored beak.
“It’s lovely. What kind of bird is it?”
“A bird native to Hawaii called the ‘i’iwi. They live on nectar, like a hummingbird, and they have a song that sounds like a creaking door, or ii-wii. They were hunted for centuries for their bright scarlet feathers, but they managed to survive extinction. A flock of them lived near the house where I grew up on Molokai. Anyhow, my father had this carved as a walking stick, but he only got to use it for a short while before he died. I’ve kept it ever since.”
Joanna ran her finger along the smooth red- and black-tipped wing. “I don’t know if I dare. What if I fall on it? I could never face you.”
“Don’t worry about that. I’m sure my father would like the idea of a pretty young woman using it. Try it out. See if it suits your height.”
Joanna exchanged her aluminum cane for the ‘i’iwi stick and practiced steadying herself on it. It was a bit higher than the hospital cane, but she’d adjust to it. “I love it, and I promise to take care of it.”
“Good. Now let’s go outside for a bit of fresh air. Do you think you can manage the steps?”
“I’m willing to try.”
Kaia led the way slowly through the glass doors to the stern, and Joanna kept pace, though with an awkward lurch, even negotiating the narrow staircase to the stern deck.
The swiveling fisherman’s chair presented some difficulty until Kaia held it in place while Joanna lifted herself onto it. She relaxed against the chair back, laying the artful new cane across her knees. “Such a magnificent boat,” she said as Kaia took the other seat. “It must be wonderful living this way, being rocked to sleep each night.”
Kaia gazed out over the dark water on the other side of the dock.
“It’s fun in the beginning, but the charm wears off. And then, of course, I have to go back to work to pay for it all.”
“What made you decide on Egypt? I mean, you’re both Americans. Wouldn’t the Caribbean be closer to home?”
“It would. But I was here a few years ago filming Queen of Thebes and fell in love with the Red Sea so we began coming here for vacations. I have a big birthday soon,
and since I’m not working this month, I got Bernie to agree to three whole weeks. It wasn’t exactly a big sacrifice for him. The fishing’s good, even when you do it legally.”
A big birthday. That could only mean her fiftieth, Joanna speculated, but knew not to ask. A frightening number for an actress, she supposed, but it explained Kaia’s complex sensuality. She was suddenly jealous of Bernard Allen’s claim to it.
“I love the evening quiet.” Kaia’s soothing voice drew Joanna’s attention to the soft night sounds—the lapping of water, the faint murmur of men talking a few boats away. “The evening view is nice enough, but it’s much better at dawn in the other direction. If you can manage to be up that early, you can see how spectacular it looks from the bow.”
“Well, that view is spectacular enough,” Joanna said, tilting her head upward toward the clear night sky. “I learned to identify a few constellations when I was in school, and it’s always nice to spot them.” She pointed directly overhead. “That one is Ursa Major. I think the Americans call it the Big Dipper complex. And that one over there is Orion, the hunter. You can always tell by the three stars on the belt. He’s supposed to be chasing the Pleiades, the seven sisters, but I can’t locate them now.”
“Killing animals, chasing girls. A bit of a thug, isn’t he?” Kaia remarked.
Joanna laughed softly. “Yeah, but in the end, the scorpion brings him down. Scorpio is also a constellation, but I can’t find that one either.”
Kaia glanced over at her. “I guess there’s no point on sailing to America with you navigating, then, is there? You’d get us lost for sure.”
Joanna chuckled. “If you’re aiming to get to America from the Red Sea by star reckoning, you’d be better off with Peter Pan. You know, ‘Second star to the right and straight on till morning.’”
“You actually remember lines from Peter Pan? I thought I was the only adult on earth who still did that. My favorite was always, ‘When the first baby laughed for the first time, its laugh broke into a thousand pieces, and they all went skipping about, and that was the beginning of fairies.’”
“Oh, I’ve got a better one than that.” Warming to the game, Joanna thought for a moment, getting the words in the right order. “‘Stars are beautiful, but they may not take an active part in anything, they must just look on forever. It is a punishment put on them for something they did so long ago that no star now knows what it was.’”
“Peter Pan astronomy is so much more fun than the real thing. How come you know the book so well?”
“My father played in a London performance of it. I heard it being rehearsed. A lot.”
“Oh, I’m so impressed. I’ve always loved that story, and now I know someone who’s related to someone who’s been to Neverland. It’s like you’ve brought a little magic onto my boat.”
Though the darkness concealed it, Joanna felt the heat of her blush.
*
The tapping on her door woke Joanna from dream-filled sleep. Flashes of it came back to her. Something about Orion lumbering after a group of young women, then being stung by a scorpion and turning into Peter Pan.
She shook herself awake. “I’m just getting up,” she called, struggling to get out of bed with a stiff and unyielding leg.
“No hurry, Joanna. Take your time.” Kaia’s voice came through the door. “Charlie’s here. Call us when you’re ready and we’ll send him down.”
Throwing back the covers, Joanna examined her leg. It had ached during the night and she could see why. It was still swollen, and the area around the stitches was bright pink.
“Great!” Joanna massaged her leg for a moment and then lurched toward the shower.
A little practice revealed that she could operate the shower handle with one hand while she supported herself against the wall. She poured shampoo onto her scalp and massaged it with her free hand, then rinsed it with lukewarm water as not to scald her facial scar.
After drying herself, she hobbled back to the bed where she wrestled her clothes on. Putting on her cargo pants was the hardest, since the weak leg refused to bend at the knee and she had to lean far over to slide the pants leg over her foot. But she finally had everything in place, and, after running a comb through her disheveled hair, she put on a shirt and limped with her cane to the doorway.
“Please tell Charlie he can come down,” she called up the stairs.
“Ah, her ladyship is receiving, is she?” Charlie laughed, said something to his hosts, and descended the staircase. “Hey, beautiful. How’re you doing?” He embraced her quickly and pretend-punched her shoulder. “How’s the arm and leg?”
“Tolerable. Come on in and talk to me.” She sat on the edge of the bed and patted the mattress next to her.
Charlie perused the cabin. “Hey, nice digs. No wonder you don’t want to come back to the workshop.”
“But I do want to. This pampering is fine for a few days, but it’s killing me not to be able to work. What’s the news from the committee?”
“Good news. I spoke to the chairman and there’s no problem with the postponement. I explained about the drop-off behind Site 13, and they said they’d assign you a new location once the entire layout was decided. I also told them about what we found down below.”
Joanna frowned. “What did we find down below?”
Charlie studied her for a moment. “You really don’t remember anything before the shark attack, do you?”
“No, why? Is there something important I should know?”
“Yes, something very important. On the other side of the drop-off, at thirty-eight meters.”
“Well, what? Don’t be so mysterious.”
“I’m not sure.” Charlie dropped his voice, as if someone might be listening. “Metal objects and clay tablets were scattered all around, so I would guess they were signs of a shipwreck. We brought a few things back. A cup—gold, I’m pretty sure—and two of the clay tablets. You’re sure you don’t remember?”
“I’m sure. Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Did you notify the committee?”
“Of course I did. And I handed over everything. I was sure they’d want to translate the tablets and send divers down to look for more, but so far they’ve been silent.”
“You know how the Egyptians are. Everything takes longer. It’s bureaucracy times ten. Too bad our guys at the London Museum couldn’t take a look at them.”
“Funny you should mention that.” He gave an exaggerated smirk. “I suspected the tablets would disappear into the Department of Antiquities once I handed them over, so I took a bunch of close-up photos and sent them back to the museum for transliteration. To Nigel Castor, in Ancient Middle Eastern Art. Then, a couple of days ago, I dove down for a second time and brought back another one, along with a plate. I decided to get a different perspective, so I sent the second set of photos to Judy Zytowski in Semitic Collections.”
“Good idea. They can investigate while we get on with our work,” Joanna said. She rather liked the idea of the discovery in general, but with no recollection of the objects themselves, she couldn’t share Charlie’s excitement. “Speaking of the museum, we’re going to have to ask for an extension of leave.”
Charlie patted her good hand. “Already taken care of. First of all, they’d already heard about the shark attack. It made the London papers, you know. So when I called the chairman and explained that you were all right but we had a scoop on a possible shipwreck discovery, he was happy to give us another two weeks’ leave.”
“Well, that’s London taken care of. What about the Egyptian committee?”
“Sharks are always bad publicity, especially when you’re setting up a tourist site, so they’re treating the attack as insignificant, and they’re bending over backward to accommodate you. They want the unpleasantness to all go away.”
“In practical terms, what does that mean?”
“It means we have it until mid-June. Everything has to be under water two days before the opening. In the meantime, I’
ve calculated approximately how much material we’ll need for casting the statues and have ordered it under your name. It’ll all be waiting for you the minute you come back to work.” He stood up. “So just relax and enjoy hanging out with a big-shot movie star.”
Joanna released a long exhalation. “Maybe now I can. But you’re wrong about the big-shot part. Kaia’s been very down to earth. It’s easy to forget she’s a movie star.”
“But not so easy to forget she’s beautiful, right?” Charlie leered amiably.
“No, but as you’ve noticed, she’s well and truly married, and her husband is my benefactor. I never forget that either.”
“Benefactor maybe, but I don’t like him. He seems like a bully, and he stinks of cigars. There’s something phony about him too. I wouldn’t be surprised if this was the boat where the shark bait came from.” He glanced overhead as if the culprit were still there.
“Charlie, stop being so cynical. You’re jumping to conclusions. I seem to recall several boats around us when we entered the water. The bait could have come from any of them. Anyhow, he’s been very generous, so I think you should just let it be.”
“All right, for your sake, I will. So enjoy your convalescence, no questions asked.” He grasped her good shoulder, giving it a squeeze, and stood up to leave. “I’ll stop by in a couple of days to see how you’re doing.”
“Thanks, Charlie.” She watched him mount the stairs and heard him exchange pleasantries with her two hosts in departing. Then she relaxed against her pillows and gently massaged her damaged leg, brooding. What if someone from the Hina had caused…No. She wiped the thought from her mind. Everything was going well and she was being coddled; what was the point in throwing it all away on a mere suspicion?
Another knock at the door broke her train of thought.
“Kaia? Is that you? Come in.”
The door moved slightly and a somber face appeared in the opening. Directly below the face was a tray of food. “Ah, you must be the invisible Abdullah. Come in.”
Beloved Gomorrah Page 6