The Ultimate Aphrodisiac

by Robert G. Barrett

  The girls got some plates and forks and opened several bottles of mineral water from the fridge. After one mouthful, Brian got a violent, posttraumatic attack of the munchies. He ripped into the delicious tacos and the tossed salad like a man possessed, washing them down with beautiful cold mineral water. Milne was two lengths in front of him. The girls ate like ladies.

  ‘Not a bad way to end the night, Takatau,’ said Milne, on his fourth taco.

  ‘Reckon,’ nodded Brian. ‘These are beautiful.’

  ‘And good for you, too. No grease and shit.’

  ‘No wonder you’re in such good nick, Sawi,’ said Brian.

  ‘That’s me. Super Sawi,’ agreed Milne. ‘Ain’t that right, Airu?’

  ‘If you say so, Sawi darling,’ said Airu.

  There were four tacos left. Brian had eaten five and drunk a bottle of mineral water. He wiped his face on a napkin and held up his hands. ‘That’s it. I’m stuffed. I couldn’t eat another thing.’

  ‘Yeah, me too,’ said Milne, finishing his last taco.

  Brian yawned then smiled at the others. ‘So what’s your play tomorrow, Ron?’

  Milne yawned also. ‘A sleep-in. Then I got a few things to sort out. And I’ll meet you at the jetty for the ceremony.’

  The girls tidied up then everybody made a move for the door. Milne turned out the light.

  ‘Well, Brian,’ smiled President Milne, after Airu kissed him goodnight outside his bedroom. ‘How did you like your first day on Lan Laroi?’

  ‘Fantastic, Ron. Certainly more than I expected. And thanks for everything.’ Brian shook Milne’s offered hand and got that warm smile again.

  ‘Mate. There’s plenty more to come yet, I promise. Goodnight ladies. See you tomorrow, Brian.’ The President retired to his room and closed the door.

  Brian and the others moved to the top of the stairs. ‘Well, goodnight girls,’ he said ‘I’ve had a wonderful time. And it was lovely to meet you.’

  ‘Goodnight, Takatau.’

  Airu kissed Brian on one cheek. Ebonee kissed him on the other. Brian still picked up that scrutinising vibe from her.

  Keleu gave him a sweet little kiss on the lips. ‘Goodnight, Brian,’ she said.

  ‘Goodnight, Keleu.’ Brian gave the girls a wave as they disappeared down the stairs, then walked to his room.

  Brian got out of his clothes, put on a clean T-shirt and went to the bathroom. On the way out he stopped and stared at himself in the mirror. Was this the same Brian Bradshaw that had left Bondi — how long ago? It seemed like ages. Brian shook his head, switched off the lights and got into bed. He closed his eyes and stared at the coloured snowflake patterns tumbling over each other in his mind; outside he could hear the gentle sound of water lapping in the harbour. Before long Takatau drifted off into the cosmos.

  Brian squinted his eyes open the next morning to find he was in a tent, and outside a thousand maniacs were beating snare drums. Hang on a minute. He wasn’t in a tent. He was lying on a bed under a mosquito net and he’d had one weird night. Brian swung his legs over the edge of the bed and rubbed his eyes. His brain felt like mashed potatoes, and his mouth was dry. But he didn’t have a real hangover. He got out of bed, and yawned across to the balcony. The thousand maniacs on the snare drums was rain. Rain like Brian had never seen. Coming down in buckets, drenching the ground and everything else. He could make out the tugboat and the plane moored at the jetty, and the buildings either side of the balcony, and that was about it. There was no one around and the street below was awash. Brian stared blearily at the rain for a few moments, having a scratch. Well, he thought. There goes the day. He went to the bathroom, had a drink of water then climbed back into bed.

  Brian got up later feeling wide awake and walked over to the balcony again. It was a beautiful day now. There was no sign of rain, the street had dried up and the sky was sparkling blue above a turquoise harbour. The tugboat was gone and people were bustling around the jetty. Brian scratched his head and went to the bathroom. He had a shower then put on a pair of shorts and a clean white T-shirt and glanced at his watch; he’d had a good sleep-in, but there was still plenty of time to rustle up some breakfast before he had to be at the jetty. He got into a pair of thongs and stepped out onto the landing.

  The conference room was closed and so was the office. The President’s bedroom door was slightly ajar. Brian thought he’d better say hello and see what was going on. He knocked on the door.

  ‘You there, Ron?’ Brian waited a moment then knocked again. ‘Hello, Ron.’ Brian glanced around the landing and down the stairs. His curiosity getting the better of him, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

  Milne’s room was bigger than Brian’s and tidied up. A double bed in the left-hand corner had been made and the mosquito net evened along with the curtains in front of the balcony. A wardrobe and dressing table stood in the corner by the door, there was a desk and an office chair, a TV and a two-seater lounge. A stereo sat on a wooden book case against the wall on the right along with some CDs and other odds and ends. Brian walked over and had a look.

  Milne’s CD collection was about average: Steely Dan, Richard Clapton, the two CDs Brian had brought over amid some other country and western, plus some groups Brian wasn’t familiar with. Sitting on a wooden stand was a long pink crystal shaped like a fat pencil. Around it were several photos. The original of the one Milne had sent him taken with his father. Some with Ebonee, Keleu or Airu and others with the chiefs. Some baby photos of Ebonee and one framed photo with a very pretty young island girl taken next to the harbour. Milne and the girl were both wearing blue tops and flowers in their hair and you couldn’t miss Ebonee’s features in the girl. Milne still looked around thirty in the photo. But it was a very grainy, tired-looking thirty. Not the fit, bright President Milne who’d met him at the jetty.

  Brian didn’t notice any videos. But beneath the photos was the President’s book collection. There were some authors Brian had read: Carl Hiassen, Eric Von Daniken, Colleen McCullough. Several biographies: Al Capone, Ronnie Knight, etc. And there were authors Brian wasn’t into: Robert Ludlum, Stephen King, Patricia Cornwell. At one end, however, were a number of books, subjects and authors Brian had never heard of, let alone read, and all printed by some obscure publishing company. Anti-Gravity and the World Grid, Technology of the Gods, The Amazing Inventions of Nikola Tesla, The Free Energy Device Handbook, Secrets of the Runes. Brian was about to pick one out and have a quick look at Vimana Aircraft of Ancient India and Atlantis, when he heard a noise at the end of the landing. Brian left the bookcase and stepped back outside. The noise was the door to his room. He hadn’t closed it properly and it had slammed shut in the breeze. Rather than get caught snooping, Brian left the President’s door as he’d found it and walked down to the kitchen.

  There was no one in the kitchen either. But someone had left a covered tray on the table with a note with ‘Takatau’ on it. Brian removed the cover and underneath was a fluffy omelette, toast and a bowl full of sliced papaya, melon and blueberries with wedges of lime. Near the sink was a mug with some coffee in a strainer. Brian put the omelette in the microwave oven, got some hot water from an urn above the sink and by the time the microwave had pinged, made himself a mug of coffee with milk from the fridge. He put everything back on the tray, took it to his room and ate on the balcony.

  The food was delightful and Brian was enjoying everything while he looked out across the harbour and watched the crowd increasing around the jetty. People were arriving on foot or on mountain bikes and trishaws; all done up in their best beads and feathers and everybody was wearing blue. Chief Namalek and his wife Omoi got out of one trishaw and amongst the crowd Brian recognised Keleu in a blue wrap-around. The flatbed truck pulled up loaded with wooden drums which were quickly unloaded and placed around the jetty. Chief Namalek seemed to be organising things with two military men and in no time it appeared everything was in order. Milne pulled up in the utility, dropped some kids of
f then drove round the back. He appeared a few minutes later and started talking to Chief Namalek. They were looking around and a sense of urgency seemed to come over the crowd. Brian finished his omelette and was enjoying his coffee thinking he might get his camera and take a few photos from the balcony, when President Milne looked up and saw him. He strode across the road and called out.

  ‘Hey, what are you doing?’

  ‘Having breakfast,’ replied Brian.

  ‘You know what time it is?’

  ‘Around ten.’

  ‘It’s getting on for one o’clock. Come on, we’re waiting for you.’

  ‘One o’clock? Shit! I’ll be right down.’

  Brian finished his coffee and left the tray on the table inside. He quickly tidied himself up, placed both cameras in his overnight bag then hurried down the stairs and across the road. The people bowed their heads as he walked up to Milne and Chief Namalek. The Chief’s greeting was courteous, but sober.

  ‘Sorry I’m late,’ apologised Brian. ‘My watch must have stopped.’

  ‘What have you got?’ Milne took hold of Brian’s wrist. ‘A Timex. You need a gold Rolex.’

  ‘Yeah, well, I’m only a photographer,’ replied Brian.

  ‘It’s not that,’ said Milne. ‘There’s a magnetic field around the island. I’ll get you one later.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Brian. ‘Hey, where have you been, anyway? I had a look around earlier and there was no one about. It was pissing rain, too.’

  ‘I had to sort something out over the other side of the island,’ replied Milne. ‘Then help get this together.’

  Keleu came over. ‘Good morning, Brian,’ she said. ‘Looking forward to joining our tribe?’

  ‘Hello, Keleu,’ said Brian. ‘Yes, I am.’ He turned to Chief Namalek. ‘Is it all right if I take some photos?’

  ‘Certainly, Takatau.’

  Brian got his Nikon out and started focusing. There were over two hundred people gathered round the jetty carrying flowers or conch shells, plus six long drums made from hollowed out logs with a wide slit in the side. Two men with flowers in their hair and shell armbands were squatting either side of the drums holding wooden drumsticks. All the women were separated from the men and in the middle were the children. Suddenly a piercing wail split the air as Chief Namalek raised his arms to the sky and started chanting. A few moments later everybody started chanting, or blowing conch shells, then the drummers started banging away; the noise was almost deafening, but with perfect rhythm and timing. The chanting, the trumpeting of the conch shells and the furious sound of the drumming floated across the harbour, out to the headlands and over the jungle. Then several men came over, carrying a large slab of redstone attached to a long pole by a net and a length of rope and hung it out over the water, using a log as a fulcrum.

  Brian turned to Milne. ‘Is that the same kind of red stone all the little sharks are carved out off?’ he asked.

  ‘That’s right,’ replied President Milne. ‘It comes from the other side of the island. It’s got spiritual properties.’

  ‘Right.’ Brian took a photo of the men with the stone. ‘So what exactly’s going on?’

  Milne nodded to the drummers. ‘This month is the time for the Opwuhi to worship the shark god. Next month it’s the Kasaudra’s turn. Then the Mwei. They worship every month and each tribe has their own piece of stone to place in the water.’

  ‘And this appeases the shark god.’

  ‘Yeah,’ nodded Milne. ‘Makes him happy as a clam.’

  Brian banged off some more photos. It might have been superstition, but it was certainly noisy, colourful superstition. The drumming and the chanting appeared to be reaching a crescendo The men, women and children formed separate circles and danced around the jetty, smiling happily as they clapped hands and beat their chests. Then everyone started throwing flowers into the water. Milne tapped Brian on the shoulder.

  ‘Righto. Put the camera away. This is your big moment,’ he said.

  ‘All right,’ said Brian. ‘Listen, if I give you my little Canon automatic, will you take some photos? All you have to do is aim and shoot.’

  ‘Okay,’ agreed President Milne.

  Brian put his Nikon back in the bag and handed Milne the Canon. Chief Namalek let out a long wail and the drumming and the chanting abruptly stopped.

  After all the racket the sudden silence was quite eerie. Chief Namalek’s wife stepped forward, holding a blue, collarless, short-sleeved hemp top and a coconut shell cup. Behind her came Chief Namalek with a carved redstone shark in his hands attached to a strip of leather. They each took Brian by an arm and moved him to the edge of the jetty, further up from the landing. This must be where I take the jump, thought Brian, looking down about four metres into the clear, warm water. Chief Namalek turned Brian around to face the crowd as the people moved closer.

  ‘It is time, Takatau, for you to receive the colour of the Opwuhi,’ said Chief Namalek. ‘Please remove your top.’

  ‘Righto.’ Brian took his T-shirt off, folded it and tossed it to President Milne.

  The chief’s wife handed Brian the blue top. ‘Would Takatau please accept his mavu and drink his cup of kesi?’

  ‘Thank you, Omoi,’ replied Brian. He took the loose fitting mavu and put it on, then accepted the half cup of kesi and drank it. The kesi was like a bland, milky vegetable drink. It wasn’t the best. But it was drinkable and had a definite kick.

  Chief Namalek offered Brian the stone shark on the cord. ‘Now will Takatau accept his mutami, and choose a woman from the tribe to place it around his neck.’

  Milne caught Brian’s eye. ‘It’s no big deal,’ he said. ‘But for the woman you choose it’s an honour. She becomes your initiator.’

  ‘Righto,’ said Brian. He looked at the crowd, wishing Ebonee had been there, then smiled at Keleu. ‘Would you be my initiator, Keleu?’ he asked.

  Keleu beamed. ‘You honour me, Takatau,’ she said.

  Keleu took the stone shark from Chief Namalek and placed it around Brian’s neck. Chief Namalek let out a wail. The conch shells blew then the drums started up again. The people all clapped and danced and the noise reached another crescendo. Then as quickly as it started, it stopped. Brian turned around ready to take the plunge. When he looked down into the water again, Brian gasped and the pit of his stomach turned to ice.

  Swimming up and down in front of the jetty were the ten biggest sharks Brian had ever seen in his life. Each had a huge shovel nose, dark stripes running across its grey back and eyes like lumps of charcoal. One was six metres long with a dorsal fin poking up over a metre as it sliced the surface. Straightaway Brian recognised them as tiger sharks. The men lowered the stone into the water and the sharks immediately swam over and circled it, bumping it gently with their noses. Scarcely breathing, Brian backed very gingerly away from the edge of the jetty. He half turned and noticed the crowd moving towards him; Milne was at the front aiming the camera. Keleu stepped from between Chief Namalek and his wife and placed her hand on Brian’s shoulder.

  ‘Welcome into the Opwuhi, Takatau,’ said Keleu. ‘Now be one with the shark God.’ Keleu smiled and pushed Brian in the back.

  ‘Keleu. What …’ Brian stumbled forward and teetered on the edge of the jetty, waving his arms around as he tried to regain his balance. ‘Oh no!’ he screamed, at the top of his voice. ‘No!’ Terrified, Brian plunged feet first into the harbour.

  Brian landed with a huge splash, getting a nose full of water as he went under. Eyes bulging with fear, he burst to the surface splashing, spluttering, kicking and screaming. Attracted by the noise, the sharks left the stone and swam over. Instantly they began to circle Brian then they moved in closer and started nudging him with their huge noses, like a pack of monstrous wild dogs.

  Brian was in a state of absolute shock and panic, his breath coming in short gasps as his heart pounded against his chest. The sharks had completely surrounded him and he could feel their sandpaper skin as they brushe
d against him, churning the flower-strewn water with their massive tails. The biggest shark pushed itself away from the others, turned, then rushed through the water at Brian with its mouth wide open. Brian could count the tiger shark’s gleaming white razor-sharp teeth and see past its gill flukes deep into its great, cavernous gullet as it charged towards him. Thinking this was it, Brian screamed and flung his hands in front of him in a last, futile gesture as he expected to get bitten in half. At the last moment, the huge shark rolled to the left and went under him, the wash from its massive tail pushing him beneath the surface.

  Brian came up and trod water as the sharks kept circling him, staring at him with their dark, sinister eyes, reading the fear stamped all over his face. Then Brian let go and emptied his bladder. He was about to empty his bowels when he noticed the landing at the end of the jetty. He sucked some air into his lungs and with his arms flailing at the water, churned through the sharks to the jetty. Brian slammed into one of the piers, managed to get a grip on the landing and hauled himself out of the water in one quick movement. He rolled over just in time to see one of the sharks snap at the edge of the jetty where he’d pulled himself up. Dripping water and shaking like a leaf, Brian leapt to his feet and ran up the stairs. He pushed angrily through the crowd at the top of the jetty, straight up to Keleu and pointed an accusing finger at her.

  ‘You rotten bastard,’ he howled. ‘How could you do that to me? I could have been eaten alive.’

  Keleu looked at Brian innocently. ‘I have angered Takatau?’ she said.

  ‘Angered? I’ll show you angered.’ Brian howled again. He moved menacingly towards Keleu. ‘How about I throw you to the bloody sharks? You little shit.’

  ‘Very well,’ said Keleu. ‘If it pleases Takatau, he may throw me to the sharks.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I said, if it pleases Takatau, Takatau can throw me to the sharks. Come on.’ Keleu took Brian’s hand and lead him through the crowd to the edge of the jetty.

  Brian looked down at the monstrous tiger sharks still cleaving the water with their tails and huge dorsal fins and his blood immediately ran cold again. ‘It’s all right, Keleu,’ he said. ‘I didn’t mean it.’