First Fall: The Canoe Thief

by Zaide Bishop

  “This went well,” Zebra said glumly.

  “Your plans always end like this,” Xícara said. “It’s a miracle we’re not also on fire and being eaten by bees.”

  “Bees don’t eat people.”

  “I’m sure you could find some that would,” Xícara muttered.

  “Do you want to stay? Or shall I?” Charlie asked Tango.

  Tango gave a dismissive wave. “You go. We will be fine here.”

  Charlie took the bow and arrows and padded off back down the little path toward the canoes. Xícara sighed. It was bad enough this happened to Love all the time. He and Zebra were strong and good hunters. It was just embarrassing to be outsmarted like this.

  Bravo plopped down before the Elikai, while Tango perched himself on one of the rocks, head swiveling, attention flicking between the tree line and the two captives. Between them, there wasn’t much chance of an escape.

  “Why do you build your houses from stone?” Bravo asked.

  “Uh—” Zebra paused, looking confused. “What? Why? Because they don’t get destroyed so easily.”

  Bravo leaned forward. “But if they do get destroyed and you’re inside, you’re going to get squished.”

  “That’s never happened,” Zebra said, looking doubtful now.

  “Oh. Isn’t it hard work? Carrying all those rocks? How do you keep the wind out? How do you get the rocks to the top of the wall?” Bravo wasn’t even waiting for answers.

  Xícara had to puzzle out the nature of the questions for a moment, then realized with the Varekai’s slight size, carrying rocks, even placing them on the top of walls, would have been hard work. Building huts from stone would have taken them much longer than it took the Elikai.

  “Are you going to build a stone house?” Zebra asked flatly.

  “Maybe. Or maybe we could make a wall in the entrance of our wet season cave to keep the wind and rain out.”

  “Don’t do that,” Xícara said hurriedly. “Like you said, if the wall came down, someone would be crushed. The worst of the cyclones destroy our houses. They can withstand the wind, but with whole trees blowing around...”

  Bravo sighed, chewing the inside of his cheek for a moment. “You camp in lots of little caves during the wet season, but we have that big one and all kinds of things blow in.”

  “You should build woven nests,” Zebra said. “Like the huts you make now, and carry them up with you. You could live in them in the cave.”

  “We can’t carry entire huts up a mountain with all our food and other supplies.” Bravo looked at him like he was crazy. “It’s hard enough getting the canoes up.”

  Zebra shrugged. “Grow bigger. You’ll be able to carry more.”

  “Yeah, I’ll get right on that.” He rolled his eyes. “Why are your dogs black?”

  “They just are,” Zebra said.

  “But why? Ours are all brown. And bigger.”

  “Your dogs are ugly,” Zebra countered.

  “Yours are useless,” he shot back.

  Tango gave an exasperated sigh, eyes rolled up to the clouds. Xícara stifled a smile. He knew how the Varekai felt. He didn’t even want to imagine dealing with Bravo every day. The next few hours were going to be torture enough.

  * * *

  Charlie kept Sugar’s canoe in sight as she paddled back, but only just. It was like a game, leading the Elikai but never letting them get too close, taking unexpected routes so they could not ambush her and trade a sister for a sister. The challenge of tracking the Elikai, luring them in and watching the trap snap shut gave Charlie a far greater thrill than hunting animals. The Varekai did not need more Elikai food; this hunt had been entirely motivated by Charlie’s desire to catch a bigger Elikai. Catching two together had been exhilarating, particularly as Zebra and Xícara were so strong. She felt a little guilty, taking from the Elikai when she had no need. However, this funny little dance of catch and release was familiarizing the tribes with one another. Each trade between them was a little more relaxed, a little more trusting.

  Maybe there would come a day in the future where she could simply ask Sugar to speak with her, and she would come without needing such definitive motivation.

  Tango, Bravo and the two Elikai were waiting right where Charlie had left them, and she padded over, motioning them to their feet.

  “So what are we worth?” Xícara asked.

  “I told Sugar to surprise me,” Charlie said with a grin, eyes flicking back to the beach as she watched Sugar and her rescue party leap lightly onto the sand. The Elikai’s lithe grace was captivating, as was the flicker of her green eyes under dark, smooth hair. Charlie was so distracted that for a moment she didn’t notice what they had brought with them to trade.

  Bravo made a sound of delight and clapped her hands. “Bottles!”

  The clear plastic containers were rare salvage and more precious than food. Finding bottles that weren’t split or that had lids was getting more and more difficult, and Charlie had spent many a morning sorting through the refuse of low tide trying to find bottle caps to replace those they lost.

  Bottles could carry and store freshwater, or act as flotation devices. Having fresh water on the hunt, in the heat and salty wind, was vital. Charlie was surprised Sugar would give them up, even for her sisters.

  “A trash island washed up on the western beaches. Acres and acres of it. There were more bottles and rope and plastic than we could carry,” Sugar said.

  Charlie grimaced. If the tribes communicated, they could have shared the bounty before the sea reclaimed it. But the Varekai did not go to the western islands, and communications between them were still too stilted.

  “If I had known you had an abundance, I would have asked for some before now.” She slunk closer to Sugar. “I should ask you to surprise me more often.”

  Sugar stepped back, her expression carefully neutral. Charlie hesitated, surprised by her reaction. Lately they had been friendlier. She’d expected the Elikai to blush, to smile a little and say something awkward. It hurt to see the Elikai move away so quickly.

  “If you’re satisfied, I’ll take my brothers and we’ll go.”

  Her heart sank. “Already?”

  “Did you expect me to dance for you too? I have a tribe to lead.”

  She opened and closed her mouth, then indicated for Tango to untie the Elikai. Zebra and Xícara were quick to rejoin their sisters, humiliation written all over their faces.

  “I thought...” Charlie bit her lip. “We would talk.”

  Sugar stacked the bottles in a neat pile and dusted off her hands. “Not today, Charlie. And stop kidnapping my brothers. This game is wearing thin on my patience. There are more important things for us to be considering.”

  “Like what?” She tried not to let her wounded feelings show.

  Sugar reddened slightly, expression serious. “Just stop playing games, okay?”

  Charlie watched them go, confused and inexplicably miserable. The game was not as much fun if Sugar didn’t play along. The others she didn’t care about. She could see Fox glaring at her, feel Maria’s distracted disapproval. They had never mattered as long as Sugar had rolled her eyes and smiled, or looked exasperated and embarrassed with Charlie’s flirting.

  This felt like a rejection. Another one.

  “Come on, Charlie.” Tango touched her arm, giving her a smile that was almost apologetic. “These bottles will thrill the hunters. We did well.”

  Charlie sighed. “Did we? Sometimes winning the battle means losing the war...”

  * * *

  Sugar had not been able to get Tare’s story about the hens and roosters out of his mind for the entire trade. He couldn’t look at Charlie without imagining them together, having sex for the sake of making new brothers. Would the Varekai agree to it? Would i
t be as pleasurable as Tare said? Or would they all be driven mad with bloodlust and kill each other?

  It was not a secret he could keep to himself anymore. It was eating his insides like a parasite, leaving a bitter, anxious taste in his mouth.

  They arrived back at dusk, and he called the tribe together, waiting until everyone was gathered around the fire pit before repeating what Tare had told them. Twice he had to refer back to Tare for more details. It was met with open doubt at first. Disgust. Horror, even. Sugar guessed about half of them saw the sense in it, just as he did, when he thought about dogs and bitches, nanny and billy goats. The clues were there all along. Why had it taken a Varekai to piece them all together?

  It took them a little longer to realize they already had a Varekai among them, but when eyes started to turn to Romeo, Sugar stepped in.

  “Romeo doesn’t want to be harassed. No following him around, demanding he do anything he doesn’t want. We all have free will here.”

  “We all also do what’s best for the tribe,” Fox said. “And if Romeo can make new brothers, then he should do it. We all would.”

  “I’m sure that Romeo will do the right thing,” Sugar insisted.

  “And if not?” Vaca asked. He was just as cool and collected as ever, watching the proceedings with only the barest hint of interest. “Will you negotiate with the Varekai?”

  “I haven’t decided,” Sugar said. “Our two peoples have not always gotten along so well.”

  “But—” Vaca held up a finger, “—you’re saying we’re not two peoples at all. If India is right, we’re one people.”

  There was a murmur of discontent from the other Elikai.

  “I need to consider all the options,” Sugar said. “And we would have to negotiate with Charlie. We have all the Elikai and a Varekai.” Romeo spluttered in protest, but Sugar ignored him. “We have the upper hand, for now.”

  Fox snorted. “Maybe we would, if Tare would stop giving away all his ‘pollen’ for free. Why aren’t we lashing him to a tree somewhere? Wasn’t he forbidden from seeing India again?”

  Tare shot him a savage look. “I think we can agree it’s been worthwhile. You’re just jealous you don’t have a Varekai.”

  “I’d rather stick my cock in a snake,” Fox snapped back.

  “Brothers!” Sugar didn’t try to hide his exasperation. “This possibility has taken all of us by surprise. There is no need to rush in to anything. We must take the time to let it sink in. This changes everything. All our beliefs about the tribes are wrong. And, well, we don’t even have proof it’s true yet.”

  “And we won’t, without any cooperating Varekai,” Fox grumbled.

  Romeo bared his teeth. “Fine. I’ll do it. But it has to be with Sugar.”

  Sugar felt all eyes on him. He blinked. “I...”

  What was it about the Varekai? What made them so cunning and sneaky? Sugar had been trying to defend Romeo, but he had still managed to swing this whole thing so it went from being his fault to Sugar’s. And it all ended with Romeo getting exactly what he wanted.

  “I can’t change what I want either, Romeo.” He tried and failed to hide his irritation. “Choose someone else.”

  “No, Sugar. I’ll try and make baby Elikai when you’re willing to try with me. Until then, you can work out some other way.”

  Romeo stalked away, and after a moment, William got up and silently trailed after him. Sugar let them go, annoyed and frustrated, wishing that every single problem wasn’t always his responsibility.

  “Why?” Fox demanded, rounding on Sugar. “Why would you turn our brother down when you know what is at stake?”

  Sugar chewed his lip, trying to find the right words. If Charlie was here, he would have known how to express his feelings. He would have given some great speech like he had when the Varekai had been determined to go to war.

  “Because we’ve always had free will. Sex has always been about fun and friendship. We can’t risk ruining that. We can’t turn it into a duty that we do because we don’t have any choice.”

  “Not even to save the tribe?” Fox demanded through gritted teeth.

  “Tare seems to like being with the Varekai just fine. There will be other Varekai who are just as keen to see our numbers flourish, Fox.”

  “Then we have to negotiate with them.” Fox threw up his hands in frustration. “And you’ve been so damn good at that lately.”

  By the time Sugar had come up with a decent retort, Fox was already gone.

  Chapter Five

  India was leaving camp again.

  Whiskey had taken notice, day after day, of the little witchdoctor slipping away for hours at a time. She took her baskets and a bow with her, as if she was gathering or hunting, but most of the time she was coming back empty-handed.

  Charlie had told Whiskey to leave her alone, that India was probably still recovering after being swept to the mainland and lost for days. But that had been months ago, and India showed no signs of being traumatized. If anything, she seemed even more focused, more excited, as if she was keeping a secret.

  Given what she had told Charlie about pollen and roosters, Elikai and Varekai, it was hard to imagine what secret she might have. What could be bigger than that? Whiskey wasn’t going to let her keep it to herself. It was time to find out exactly what her little sister was hiding.

  She let India glide out of sight in her canoe before following her. It was easy to pick up her trail, even in open water. India might have been small, but the creatures of the island communicated openly about her passing.

  Small birds and the occasional tiny monkey chattered loudly as she passed the overhanging branches where they were feeding. A green turtle winged its way silently through the water at a right angle to where India had disturbed it. Seagulls hovered overhead, riding the thermals and watching to see if she had lines and nets, and where her canoe passed close enough to stir up silt, schools of fishes darted in, chaotically gobbling tiny things too small for Whiskey to see.

  In contrast, the world was silent as Whiskey glided by. She stayed in the open current, away from feeding creatures, and lifted her paddle to let the ocean carry her forward when she passed a manta ray that might have been startled by her presence.

  She watched everything, taking note of the dark places that could have housed crocodiles and avoiding the reefs that would disguise sharks and giant octopi.

  Everything on the islands was dangerous. Every low-hanging fruit could distract you from the snake waiting to strike. But it was all beautiful, and Whiskey knew every face, every fang, every claw.

  Her sense of belonging, of being part of the whole, was overwhelming.

  India’s canoe had been left on a bank, well hidden in vines and branches. She had covered the drag marks with leaves, though beside them another, deeper set of drag marks was less skillfully concealed. Whiskey could make out the dark shape of the second canoe, far longer and sturdier than India’s. It was an Elikai vessel; Whiskey did not have to be close to recognize the design.

  She tied up her own canoe in the shallows, no longer making an effort to conceal her presence. She took her bow and a short spear. She was better with the bow—she was also prouder of the bow—but did not really intend to use either.

  She moved slowly, following the faint path and taking careful note of the signs of passing—footprints, mud-slicked leaves, broken branches—and being ever alert for predators.

  The pool at Ram’s Head was deep and seeded with leaves and mud. It was perfect for stonefish, and she would have been loath to walk through it; she was not so prone to gambling with her life. There were no signs the silt on the bottom of the pool had been disturbed, though. India’s trail simply ended at the edge of the water.

  Whiskey paused, searching the bank for their trail. Then she heard the murmur of
voices over the cascading chuckle of the waterfall. She hesitated a long moment, hoping to recognize the Elikai voice and judge the tone of the conversation, but the sounds were too indistinct.

  Frowning, she pressed as close as she dared to the rock face and made her way through the curtain of water and into the small alcove created by the overhang of stone. Behind the waterfall, there was a cave. It smelled of bat guano and dry sand. Stuck to the stones were wide sheets of dry snakeskin where some monster python had shed, but there was no fresh odor of reptile.

  “...this, here,” India said.

  Whiskey dropped to her knees and edged forward on her fingertips.

  “But I’m worried.” The Elikai was Tare, the same one India had been trapped on the mainland with. It had been clear at the time that something had passed between them. Something important. Though India had never talked about it. At least, not to Whiskey.

  “It could be dangerous,” Tare said. “Dangerous for you. What if it kills you? What if something goes wrong?”

  India chuckled, not at all concerned by the Elikai’s dire tone.

  “Would you prefer that we didn’t try? Or just that I sacrifice one of my sisters to the experiment instead?”

  They were talking about sex and India’s theory of fertilization. She wanted to try to make new Varekai, and the Elikai was resisting. Whiskey’s gut twisted, first with unease, then a growing sense of anger.

  She inched forward again, as slow as a praying mantis, until she could peer around the stone to see them.

  They had furs and bracken spread across the floor and in the middle of it, they were stretched out, comfortably naked with their clothes drying on stalagmites. Tare’s belly was coarse with golden hair, and between her legs the useless worm of flesh India called a “cock” was far larger than Whiskey remembered. No longer resembling the floppy wattle of a rooster, it was turgid and firm-looking. The head was swollen and mushroom-shaped, engorged with blood like ripened fruit.

  Tare frowned. “Maybe. Maybe you should do that. Then, if they live, you can try. We can try.”