Shellshock

by Anthony Masters

  He disappeared down the chimney.

  It seemed as if they were climbing down for ever. David braced his back against the rather slippery rank-smelling wall of rock and placed his feet firmly on the outcrops. It was a technique that took a bit of getting used to, but once he did, he found it much easier. Even so, Miguel was far below him and he couldn’t even hear his footsteps any longer.

  As David climbed down into the darkness he felt more excited than afraid. Suddenly his feet met loose rock, and when he turned he could see grey space and the insubstantial shape of Miguel. He moved forward and as his feet crunched on something he realised he was on the fossil beach. Gradually, as his eyes became used to the gloom, David could make out the dim shapes of the Rock People.

  ‘Dad will be over the moon,’ he said, crunching over the fossils. Pale moonlight filtered down the chimney and he could hear the lapping of water in the outer darkness.

  Miguel said nothing while David looked closely at the Rock People. Standing, reclining, waiting. The wan light illuminated them, giving movement where none could exist.

  ‘Shall we go back now?’

  ‘You go first.’ Miguel’s voice was tight and strained.

  ‘OK.’ David turned and began to walk back towards the chimney. He could hear Miguel behind him, but there was something wrong with his footsteps. David half turned and stopped. He could feel a slight stirring in the air. Then the rock crashed into the back of his head and he fell.

  PART FIVE

  The Rock People

  ‘He is gone.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘David. Sometime early.’

  ‘Is this some kind of joke?’

  But when Tod searched David’s room, the bed was empty. And cold. He looked at his watch and then at Miguel. It was eight and a hazy mist swam over the mountainside.

  ‘Where the hell could he have gone?’

  ‘Looking for the Rock People?’

  ‘At night?’

  ‘Perhaps he was trying to please you –’ Miguel’s voice died away.

  Tod stared at him, for the first time wondering if Miguel was well.

  ‘We’ll have to search for him. Where do you –’

  ‘The island?’

  Tod cheered up. ‘He’s an idiot, he’s probably still there.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘By the way –’ Tod hesitated.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘You were asleep when the phone rang. It was Henriques. They’re burying your mother and your uncle tomorrow. At St Pere in the afternoon.’

  ‘You’ll come?’

  ‘Of course I will. David can mind the shop down here.’

  ‘So it will be just us two?’

  ‘Yes, Miguel,’ said Tod slowly. ‘Just us two.’

  David had no idea what the time was when he came to because Miguel had taken his watch. But the light coming in through the cracks in the rock above was bright and he guessed it might be mid-morning. His head ached horribly, and when he touched it he could feel matted blood. Slowly the events of the night returned to him. What a fool he’d been to agree to go with Miguel. The realisation of how much Miguel hated him was so horrible that David switched his mind quickly away to his present surroundings. They were little better. The cavern was in semi-darkness, with a few gleams, almost shafts of light projected down to the fossil beach. The Rock People stared silently back at him, huge and foreboding, almost livid in the weak streaks of light. They looked like his father. They had his father’s eyes.

  He had to get out. David rose unsteadily to his feet and staggered up the rocky steps towards the slab of rock. He pushed at it but it was immovable. David began to call for help but his voice seemed tiny, laughable against the rock. Nevertheless, he continued to call until he was hoarse and he realised he had better conserve what vocal power he had in case anyone came.

  He sat on the top of the rocky outcrop, not wanting to go down to the fossil beach again. It would be too much of a defeat. Surely, someone would come? Surely, Miguel would release him? He didn’t deserve any of this; it wasn’t his fault that Dad had gone off with this woman who happened to have been Miguel’s mother and who happened to have got herself drowned. He remembered the indistinct figures in the taxi – the drowned driver and his passenger and the man of shells. David began to shiver, despite his sweater and jeans. He was also extremely hungry. David thought of Miguel chewing croissants and wished him drowned. Like his mother.

  Something shifted below him and he stared down into the half-light. His shivering increased and he was certain he could hear footsteps. Miguel? Coming out of the sea to rescue him? Suddenly he wanted to understand him, promised to understand him. He would tell him that he wanted to see it all from his point of view – and if he did then surely Miguel would understand him. But then there was silence. And it seemed eternal.

  ‘David!’

  Tod’s tall figure strode the island, with Miguel bounding beside him, like a companionable dog.

  ‘David!’

  He called continuously and Miguel called too.

  ‘David!’

  But there was no sign and they had already covered the island three times.

  ‘You don’t think he could have got into a cave?’

  ‘You can’t from here. I’m sure of it.’

  ‘Well,’ said Tod stolidly. ‘You’re the expert.’

  ‘I don’t think he’s here,’ said Miguel woodenly.

  ‘No? Where else could he be?’

  ‘Maybe he went somewhere with Jan.’ Miguel’s voice was soft, unsure.

  ‘If he has, I’ll skin him alive. You may be right. Why didn’t I think of that? Instead of dragging all the way out here. I’ll give him one last shout and we’ll go. David! David!’

  David heard his father’s voice faintly as if from a great distance. He pulled himself as near to the rock face as he could and shouted back.

  ‘Dad!’ But his voice still seemed tiny, as if he was shouting into a biscuit box.

  ‘Dad!’

  ‘David!’ The voice was faint but very distinct.

  ‘Dad! Dad! Dad!’ David yelled at the top of his voice. ‘Dad!’

  But there was no response at all, and although David went on shouting until his voice eventually gave out he heard no answering cry – and he did not hear his father’s beloved voice again. Exhausted, David slowly descended to the fossil beach and lay down. Surprisingly the powdery substance was extraordinarily soft and he was soon asleep.

  ‘I haven’t seen him.’

  Jan was indignant when they found her in the hotel swimming pool. Mr Daniels was on the terrace reading The Sun. He looked up, slightly annoyed at the interruption and being dripped on by his daughter.

  ‘Your David? Now why should he be here?’ He sounded aggressive and Tod frowned. The situation was passing from the frustrating to the worrying.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he replied shortly. ‘But he’s not at home and he’s been missing since early this morning. Maybe he went out in the night.’

  ‘Where?’ Jan’s voice was alarmed. She picked up the shell necklace from the table by her father’s side and put it on. ‘Where could he have gone?’

  ‘He might be searching for some damn cave – the legend and all that,’ said Tod impatiently.

  ‘Do you know?’ Jan asked Miguel. Their eyes met and he looked away.

  ‘I thought he might have gone to the island, but he wasn’t there.’

  ‘And none of our boats are missing,’ snapped Tod. ‘I can’t think why I wasted a journey out there.’ He turned to Miguel. ‘I mean why didn’t I think of that before? That bloody island.’

  ‘You mean the legend of the Rock People and the Shell Man,’ said Mr Daniels surprisingly.

  ‘What do you know about it?’ Tod snapped as his fears increased.

  ‘The barman was telling me about it last night. Local chap. It was funny about her necklace

  ‘Necklace? Oh, that. The shells.’

  �
�Yeah.’ Mr Daniels seemed ponderously slow as he folded up The Sun. ‘Well, I expect you know the story –’

  ‘Yes.’ Tod’s voice was strained. Didn’t the idiot realise he was looking for his son? That his son was missing! Was this the time to –

  ‘No. I mean the necklace in the legend. The Garland.’

  ‘What?’ Tod wasn’t really listening. But Jan was and she noticed that Miguel was very tense.

  ‘They call it the Garland,’ repeated Mr Daniels doggedly.

  ‘What are you on about, Dad?’ asked Jan. ‘You never told me about it.’

  ‘I was having a drink when you were in bed,’ he said reprovingly, as if he had no time to himself. ‘Just one drink, mind.’

  ‘Get on with it,’ said Tod rudely, but Mr Daniels smiled. He knew he had an audience now.

  ‘This old fisherman walled up his enemies in a cave and the children were discovered. Untouched, unrotted. But dead.’

  ‘Yes, yes,’ Tod interrupted impatiently. But Mr Daniels was determined to draw out the last vestige of the attention they were paying him. Dad always milks it, thought Jan angrily.

  ‘The girl was wearing a necklace, a garland of shells. The old fisherman took it and he died. So it was revenge. Now, who are you going to take out your revenge on, my girl?’ He chortled. ‘Young Miguel here?’

  ‘I’ve no need for revenge,’ said Jan impatiently, inwardly furious at her father’s insensitivity. No wonder Mum left, she thought bitterly. Miguel said nothing but merely shrugged irritatingly.

  ‘This is getting us nowhere.’ Tod was angry now. ‘My boy is missing,’ he pleaded childishly. ‘Don’t you see?’ For once his obsession with the Rock People was given second place. His obsession now was to find David.

  Mr Daniels suddenly seemed to understand how serious the situation was. He stood up and put The Sun back on his deck chair. ‘What do you want me to do?’

  Tod stared at him, unable to think of anything.

  Jan came to the rescue.

  ‘Well divide up and search for him. Maybe he went up the mountain?’

  ‘Why?’ asked Tod, but no one could think of a reply.

  ‘Well,’ said Jan, breaking an awkward silence. ‘Let’s at least decide where we should search.’

  ‘We need a battle plan,’ said Mr Daniels.

  Tod suddenly wished he had never come to the hotel in the first place. For the first time he wished he had not come to Spain.

  David watched the children running around the cavern while the two adults lay comatose further down the fossil beach. Outside the sea thundered against rock; inside each sound was sharply etched. The girl wore a necklace of shells just like the one Jan had. She was about eleven, very Spanish in her exquisite bone structure and dark ringlets. The boy, a little younger, had the same skin tones.

  Running up to David, she took off the necklace and placed it around his neck. When he looked again, she and her brother were simply two piles of rock, whose human shape was only vaguely hinted at. Looking further down the fossil beach he saw that the rock where the two adults had been was almost more shapeless. Then he saw the rock move, stretch and resettle. It made grinding sounds and, once inanimate, looked as if it could never have moved at all. Miguel swam in and David embraced him desperately, but Miguel pushed him away.

  ‘Kiss my flippers,’ he said. ‘Go on, kiss my flippers and I let you out.’

  David did as he was told, crouching down, kissing the wet rubber. Then he felt an enormous blow as hard as the rock that Miguel had hit him with and he found himself lying further down the beach. When David looked up again he saw a pile of rocks where Miguel had been standing. The sea sighed on the pebbles and a dull roar filled the cave. It sounded like people shouting in a tunnel. It was to this sound that David awoke.

  For a time he was disorientated and he called out Miguel’s name. He looked down the fossil beach. Yes, there were four piles of rock. Returning horror engulfed him as David finally realised his plight. He looked up at the light and saw that it was soft and darker. No one had come. The waking nightmare was still with him.

  Staggering to his feet, he managed to struggle up the rocky stairs. Putting his head to the chink of light, he began to call for help. But now his voice was only a rasping croak.

  In the end they split up into adults and kids – Tod and Mr Daniels and Jan and Miguel. It had not been a popular decision, only reluctantly agreed to when Jan calmly pointed out that she and Miguel were fast enough to take the dinghy and search all the Medas Islands, whilst the adults were strong enough to cover the mountain. Both Tod and her father eventually had to agree it was a sensible idea.

  As they set off for the harbour Jan said to Miguel:

  ‘Are you sure you don’t know where he is?’

  Miguel was immediately indignant. ‘You think I liar?’

  ‘No, I just thought it might be some kind of wind-up.’

  ‘What is that?’

  ‘A joke.’

  ‘It’s not joke.’ Miguel’s indignation increased. ‘He has been angry. He run off so that people feel sorry for him.’

  ‘You mean he’s attention-seeking?’

  ‘He not like our friendship.’

  ‘Do we have one?’

  ‘I think so. I think you very beautiful.’

  Jan didn’t know what she should say. Superficially she decided to be angry. How could he be saying things like this when David was missing? But deep in her innermost being she felt a sudden rush of acute physical desire for him that superseded everything and everybody else.

  The idea came to David slowly and unwillingly. Could he swim out of the cavern and up to the surface without drowning? It had seemed difficult enough with scuba gear let alone attempting it without. He couldn’t remember how long the tunnel was before it reached the open sea. And how far up was the surface? And come to that, just how far were the Medas from the shore? A mile? Half a mile? Then David realised that it didn’t matter. If he had survived that far then he would definitely settle for a night on the island.

  He lay back on the beach and thought. Looking at the sunlight he guessed it must be around four in the afternoon, maybe later. He would either make his escape now or wait till tomorrow morning. He couldn’t face risking the dark. But was he going to try it at all? The word escape gave him delirious hope, but he was terrified of the swim. How long was the tunnel? How far up was the surface? The thoughts went round and round in his head until he jumped to his feet. He would explore again the top half of the cavern. Then, later, he would return to his dilemma.

  ‘I want another look at the big island.’

  ‘But I thought you’d searched–’

  ‘I want another look.’

  ‘OK.’ Jan was confused. She was also feeling ill. There was a strong current around the Medas and the rubber dinghy was bouncing over rolling green waves, some with high crests that lifted the outboard clear out of the water. The sky was a brilliant blue and there was hardly a cloud to alleviate the baking heat. But her inner turmoil was not just due to a feeling of sea-sickness. The same physical desire gnawed at her, overlaying her anxiety for David. All she wanted was to be on the island with Miguel. Alone. Something else added to the confusion, something she desperately wanted to ask him.

  ‘Miguel –’ she suddenly blurted out.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘We saw in the car. The taxi.’

  ‘I’m sorry you did that.’

  ‘I’m sorry we did it.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. But it must have been very frightening.’

  ‘It was.’

  ‘Is that all you want to say to me?’

  ‘No.’ She paused, not wanting to go on.

  ‘Then –’ He turned, unexpectedly gentle as the dinghy pitched and rolled its way on towards the island.

  ‘The person in the back –’

  ‘The body of my mother.’

  ‘There was a Shell Man.’

  ‘Oh yes, I thought that too. At f
irst.’

  ‘What do you mean – at first?’ Her voice was very agitated.

  ‘It was horrible. So horrible. I thought the legend had come true. But when I looked again there was just a pile of shells on the back seat.’

  ‘But it looked –’

  ‘It does not matter how it looked,’ insisted Miguel in the same gentle voice. ‘All it was – was a pile of shells. They came in with the sea. That’s all.’

  ‘Yes,’ repeated Jan slowly. ‘That’s all.’

  He saw them coming up the cliff and David’s heart leapt with joy. Miguel and Jan. They were coming for him. Miguel had only meant to keep him in here for a punishment. Now he would release him. It was going to be all right. It was going to be all right after all. He began to weep with the joy of it. He had found a new vantage point, a thin narrow slit of a crack in the rock that gave him a limited view of the foreshore.

  He tried to cry out to them but his voice was cracked, useless. Nevertheless he tried – until he was forced to whisper again. They were still coming up the rock until they arrived on a small promontory about fifty metres from his sight-line. Then they stopped. He stared at them incredulously. Why weren’t they coming to the sealed entrance? Why weren’t they coming to release him?

  Instead, Miguel turned to Jan and took her in his arms. He kissed her and she didn’t resist. David rasped at them from his cavern but to no avail. They lay down in each other’s arms on the bare sun-struck rock and were lost to sight under an over-hang. For some time David continued to rasp and then, when his voice had completely gone, he beat the rock with his bare hands until they bled.

  Something happened to break the spell. Perhaps it was the intensity of the sun or the fact that a speedboat passed nearby. It was something small yet it penetrated. Jan pushed Miguel away, unable to believe what she was doing, or what had made her do it.

  ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘I never said –’ she muttered. ‘I don’t know what –’ And she truly didn’t. But the spell was broken now and Jan looked with anger into Miguel’s excited eyes and at his sinewy dark body. ‘You were making me–’

  ‘I not making you do anything,’ he said, curled up in the shadow of the rock. ‘You have your own mind.’