Dark Horizons

by Dan Smith

  ‘I have to.’ I didn’t look at her. ‘I can’t stay here.’

  ‘But I need you. Why d’you think I didn’t tell Kurt you saw us? It’s because I need you here. I never wanted to be with anyone like this. You’re so good for me, Alex, I think I lo—’

  ‘Don’t.’ I took her hand from me and continued to walk, my legs numb. ‘I don’t think you need anyone.’

  ‘Stop,’ she said, her voice loud. ‘Stop, Alex. Don’t just walk away from me. You can’t just walk away. Not after everything—’

  ‘What?’ I spun round. ‘What you going to say? Not after what? After everything you’ve done for me? After all the help you’ve given me? That what you’re going to say?’

  ‘No,’ her voice becoming quiet now. ‘After everything we’ve had together. After everything I’ve felt for you.’

  It stopped me in my tracks. I knew how I’d felt about Domino, but we’d never talked about it. I didn’t know how she felt about me, not really, and I had always suspected that her feelings were not as strong as mine. I took a few steps towards her, then made myself stop. I shook my head. ‘I have to go,’ I said, a tightness in my throat. ‘I can’t stay. Not now.’

  ‘Please. Just a while longer. After that we’ll leave together.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then wait for me. Give me a chance to explain what you saw.’

  ‘Tell me now.’

  Domino glanced behind her and looked back to me. ‘No time.’ She looked around again. ‘Not here.’

  ‘Goodbye, then.’

  ‘Stay at Toba for a while,’ she said. ‘A few days. A week. Go to Pulau Samosir Cottages. I’ll find you there. It’s a small place. Just wait for me. A week, Alex. Give me a week.’

  As I thought about it, Domino came close to me and I felt myself melt, the hardness seeping out of me. She took my face in her hands and kissed me.

  ‘Please,’ she said, breaking away. ‘Wait a while. We’ll be together again.’

  I didn’t answer.

  ‘It is what you want, isn’t it?’

  I shrugged and turned away from her. ‘I don’t know, Domino. I really don’t know what I want any more.’

  I didn’t look back as I continued down the hillside, but I thought hard about what she’d said, knowing that I’d do as she had asked. I’d wait for her and her explanation. A week. No longer. I’d stay on Samosir, see the things I’d come here to see, but I wouldn’t see them with the same eyes I’d had when I arrived in this country. I wouldn’t experience them with the same heart.

  34

  In the kampong, I went straight to the shore and headed to the jetty where I’d seen the boats moored. I walked close to the water’s edge, along the bank that was lined with deke ramba, stone tanks built into the side of the lake. The loose built edges allowed fresh water to circulate, but kept the captive fish trapped inside. I stopped and watched the ikan mas and mujahir – flashes of gold and silver fish darting for deeper water they’d never reach – then I looked over at the jetty and saw what I had come for.

  There was just one boat that day, a red speedboat with a white hull and a single Evinrude engine. There was a set of water skis in the back, a coil of rope that looked old and worn. A couple of orange life jackets, the tough material split in several places. Beside the boat, sitting on a short, rough wooden jetty, a man, his trousers rolled to his knees, his shirt unbuttoned, his feet dangling in the water. He heard my movement and turned to look at me.

  I stopped and watched him stand, his body language aggressive and suspicious. He drew himself up to his full height, a good few inches taller than me, and lifted his chest. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘It’s Richard, isn’t it?’ I was hoping to see Hidayat, but Richard was the one with the boat.

  ‘What do you want?’

  I looked out across the lake and then back at Richard. ‘A lift?’

  His big shoulders dropped a touch, then he drew them back up again. ‘Your comrades not tell you I don’t give lifts?’

  ‘My comrades?’

  He flicked his head in the direction of the hill. ‘Up there. Your friends. They send you on a supplies run?’

  I shook my head.

  ‘Food? Booze? Drugs?’ He turned away from me, going to his boat, busying himself with other things.

  ‘They’re not my friends,’ I told him. ‘And I’m not planning on coming back. Hidayat said I could come to you if I needed help.’

  He looked round at me. ‘They kick you out? Christ, that’s a new one. What they do? Smack you about a bit first? You look like shit.’

  ‘You should see the other guy.’

  Richard smiled, in spite of himself. ‘First your shoulder and now your face. Shitty luck, mate. Looks like they dragged you around the forest.’

  ‘Are you going to give me a lift or not?’

  He sat down on the edge of his boat, unrolled the legs of his trousers, leaned back and took out a pair of flip-flops, which he dropped onto the jetty. ‘That depends.’

  ‘On what?’

  ‘On how much money you got.’ He worked his wet feet into the rubber flip-flops.

  ‘Enough.’

  ‘Don’t get smart.’

  ‘How much do you want, then?’

  ‘Where do you want to go?’

  ‘Samosir.’

  ‘That’s it? No idea where on the island?’

  ‘Pulau Samosir Cottages.’

  He thought about it. ‘I know the place. Hundred thousand roops.’

  I nodded and put my hand in my pocket, taking out a wad of notes. I unfolded them and counted them out, coming short by a thousand.

  ‘Not enough,’ Richard said.

  ‘I’ve got more.’

  ‘Yeah? Well, lucky you, but you’re gonna have to show me otherwise you’re not going anywhere on my boat.’

  ‘I’ve got it on me,’ I said, thinking I’d dip into my money-belt once we were on the water. ‘I’ll give it to you when we get there.’

  Richard showed me a knowing smile and shook his head. ‘Uh-uh. You need to put the money in my hand before you step foot in my boat.’

  ‘Look,’ I said, ‘I have the money right here. Can we just go, please? I’ll give it—’

  ‘No money, no ride.’ He was enjoying himself. ‘Unless you want to take that.’ He pointed at a canoe that was lying at the end of the jetty, a hole in its hull. ‘But you might need one of these.’ He reached into his boat again and took out a large Blue Riband margarine tin. He threw it at me but I was slow and didn’t catch it. The tin fell onto the jetty with a rude clatter that disturbed the morning calm. It rolled in a curve and I watched it run out to the edge of the jetty and drop into the lake where it floated for a few seconds before tipping to one side and filling. As it sank, the gold interior glinted in the clear water.

  I wanted to show him two fingers and walk away, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to go back up the hill to Kurt, and last time I’d ventured onto the path up the cliff, I’d fallen and dislocated my shoulder. I couldn’t see anybody else around, so if I was going to get out of here, it was going to be on Richard’s boat. ‘For Christ’s sake,’ I almost pleaded. ‘Give me a break, will you?’

  ‘Why? Why should I give you a break?’

  I touched my hand to my waist.

  ‘You worried someone’s gonna see your money-belt, is that it? That me or someone else will try to take your money. You think we’re thieves round here?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then show me the money. Put it in my hand and you’ll get your ride.’

  With no other option, I sighed and reached for my belt.

  I climbed into the boat and sat on the back seat, close to the engine, as Richard loosened the rope securing us to the jetty. He threw the rope at my feet and jumped in, settling himself behind the wheel and switching on the engine. Close to my ears, the motor started, drowning any other sounds.

  I looked back up the hill, towards the line of trees as the propeller
churned the water and took us out of the small bay, into the main body of the lake. And then, for the first time, I was on Toba, with the wind in my hair, and my trousers soaking up the water from the hard plastic seat. I continued to stare at the hillside as we sped away from it, leaving that part of my life behind, then I blinked hard and turned my attention to the rest of the lake.

  On one side, the island of Samosir slipped by, and far away on the other, I could see the high black cliffs rising to pine forests. There were one or two boats here; small fishing vessels, not much more than canoes, the single occupants casting nets or drawing in woven pots attached to small floating buoys. They pulled in the baskets, winding the orange plastic string into their boats, checking the night’s catch.

  Richard took the boat around the tip of Samosir island, turning, taking us back in the direction of Parapat. Dotted along the edge of the island I could see small settlements. Collections of traditional houses and cottages that looked to be in failing order.

  On the mainland side, the shoreline had the look of a 1950s European resort. Low-rise villas on the water’s edge, metal railings, light blue paint on stucco, dry and split like slashed paper. There were rows of pedalos, too, red and blue shapes bobbing on the waves, waiting for one of the few tourists to wake and take them out onto the water. I watched them, my head turning as we passed, thinking that I might have been one of those tourists. Just a short while ago, I had intended to spend my time in places like this, along with the other people who came here, but my experiences had been quite unlike anything I had expected. So much life and death in such a short time. Kurt had been right about one thing, though: everything was different in his community. And now I was glad to be free of it.

  With those thoughts, I hardly noticed that Richard had slowed the engine, and it was only when he cut the motor altogether that I looked up to see what was going on.

  For a moment he just sat there with his back to me, while the boat bobbed in the water. The lake lapped at the hull, a hollow, calming sound. The engine ticked beside me. Somewhere on the lake a boat sounded its horn.

  ‘What’s the matter? Why have we stopped?’

  Richard turned round and stared at me, a thoughtful expression, before pushing himself out of his seat and coming to sit opposite me. The boat rocked in the water as he came over, leaning forward, his face close to mine. ‘Not often I get one of you people on your own.’ I could see the lines at the corners of his grey eyes, the tiny points on his square chin where fresh growth was pushing through.

  I leaned away from him. If Richard was trying to intimidate me, it was working.

  He reached into a top pocket and took out a packet of cigarettes. Not kretek, not the clove cigarettes of the locals. These were Benson and Hedges, the gold box and the particular British branding looking out of place in his tanned hands, here in the middle of Lake Toba.

  He put a cigarette in his mouth and lit it with a plastic gas lighter and I couldn’t help but glance at the engine beside me.

  ‘You worried I’m gonna blow us up?’ he asked.

  ‘What do you mean by that? “One of you people”?’

  ‘One of Kurt’s people.’

  I shook my head and looked at my feet. ‘I already told you, I’m not one of his people. I’m leaving. Going somewhere else.’

  ‘See the sights?’

  ‘Something like that.’

  ‘Or maybe get some supplies for your friends? Do a bit of selling? They got you doing that yet?’

  ‘I already told you—’

  ‘Yeah. They’re not your friends, and you’re leaving.’

  ‘Right. Anyway, you know me. I’ve only been up there a few days.’

  ‘You went up there with that girl. Domino.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘It not work out for you?’

  I looked out at another speedboat passing us, a hundred metres away, its engine droning.

  ‘Probably better that way,’ he said.

  When I didn’t answer, Richard took a long drag of his cigarette and ran his thumb across his lips, the cigarette end coming close to his face, making him squint against the smoke. ‘You know, I used to take you people across the lake all the time. A regular fucking ferry service until your man Kurt tried to spin his way out of paying.’

  I thought about how determined he’d been for me to pay him before he’d allowed me to set foot on the boat.

  ‘He tried to weasel out of it, getting all smarmy, but I wasn’t having any of it. So then he got ballsy, lost his hippy cool and started shouting, calling me all kinds of things. One thing led to another and he ended up with some bruising. Bit like yours now. Nothing too bad, but the way I saw it, he deserved it. Deserved more, probably. I’m trying to make a living, you know. Gas costs money.’

  He took another drag and studied the end of the cigarette. ‘Then his man found Hidayat out looking for butterflies. Up on the hill there.’ Richard pointed.

  ‘His man?’ I stared at him. ‘Who?’

  ‘The big guy. American.’

  ‘Michael.’ I touched my nose, remembering last night.

  ‘That’s the guy. Thought it would be a good idea to have a go at Hidayat. He do all that to you?’ He pointed to the bruise on my face, the dirt on my clothes.

  I took a deep breath and nodded without intending to.

  ‘We got something in common, then. Except he beat Hidayat even worse. Close to death. Broke his jaw, three ribs, perforated an ear. Wouldn’t go out after that, not even for the butterflies.’

  ‘What did you do?’

  ‘I didn’t do anything.’ He sniffed hard. ‘I would’ve gone up there and shot the fucker between the eyes if Hidayat hadn’t begged me not to. He’s the forgiving kind, and he doesn’t want to spend what he’s got left fighting with idiots like your man Kurt.’

  ‘What he’s got left?’

  Richard looked at me hard. ‘He has MS.’

  I didn’t know much about it, but I remembered the way Hidayat had dragged his leg – as if walking had been a struggle. ‘Is it bad?’

  ‘Good days and bad days, but it’s getting worse, so we keep away from that little cult you people got going up there.’

  ‘It’s not …’ I was about to tell him that it wasn’t what he thought. I felt the need to defend the place, probably because I’d been there myself, enjoyed it for a while, but then I stopped. I reminded myself of the reason I’d left. Maybe I hadn’t stayed because I’d enjoyed the place, wanted to be with Domino, but because it had burrowed under my skin and into my mind. Like a bloated tick feeding on me, sucking away my sense of the real world. That’s why my initial reaction was to defend it.

  Richard nodded like he’d seen straight through me. ‘Saw it for yourself, didn’t you? Felt it.’

  I looked Richard in the eye before glancing away. The way he stared into me made me uncomfortable. And what he was saying, I didn’t want to hear it, but I knew there was truth in it. Kurt had an influence over those people, even if it hadn’t worked on me in quite the same way.

  ‘You want to tell me what happened?’

  I shook my head and watched a boat in the distance, not much more than a dark smudge on the surface of the water.

  Richard leaned further forwards and tapped the cigarette packet on my knee to get my attention. When I looked at him, he offered them to me. I reminded myself that I didn’t smoke, not before going up there, and shook my head again.

  ‘Was it something you did? Something you said?’ His manner softened. ‘Something you saw maybe?’

  I sighed and shook my head again. ‘Can we just get going?’ I said, feeling suddenly younger than my years; feeling that the man sitting opposite me was stronger and more knowing than I’d ever be. I’d fooled myself into thinking I’d grown in some way from my experience, but I knew now that I was still the same person I’d been when I set foot on the plane and watched the doors close on the non-life I was leaving behind.

  ‘Sure,’ he said, but made no
move. Instead, he took another drag on his cigarette and lifted his head skywards to blow smoke at the clouds. He leaned over the side of the boat and touched the cigarette tip into the water before dropping it into a Fanta can that was tucked into an elasticated net pocket by his seat. ‘You really liked her? That girl?’

  ‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘I did. Maybe I still do.’ But it didn’t matter. She was gone now. Left behind. I’d do what she asked. I’d go to the hotel, stay a while, but I had a feeling I’d never see Domino again.

  ‘You know, I never did understand the thing with women,’ Richard said. ‘Too bloody complicated. That’s why I prefer men.’

  I looked up at him.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘You’re not my type.’

  ‘Eh? No, I—’

  Now he smiled. ‘Don’t worry about it, kid. I’m pulling your leg. You seem all right. Hidayat’s usually a pretty good judge of character – better than me anyway – and he liked you.’

  ‘That’s why you’re helping me?’

  ‘I’m not helping you. You’re paying, remember?’

  ‘And that’s it?’

  Richard shook his head. ‘Hidayat told you to come to us if you needed help, and I’ll do pretty much whatever he wants.’

  ‘I lost his cloth,’ I said. ‘The one he used for a sling. I promised I’d bring it back.’

  ‘The ulos? Don’t worry about it. It was probably just his way of trying to make you come back. Anyway, I reckon you got other things on your mind. Come on, let’s get you over the lake. The further away from those people, the better. Consider yourself lucky to have got away.’ He climbed back into the front seat. ‘You know, people leave them alone up there because they don’t do any harm, or because they got someone protecting them, but there’s something not right about them.’

  ‘They seemed OK,’ I said. ‘At first, anyway. Just a few people living how they want to.’ But even saying it, I knew they were someone else’s words. Kurt’s words. Perhaps his spell had gripped me tighter than I’d thought. Or perhaps I was still standing up for Domino, but whatever it was, I’d seen how they wanted to live. I’d seen the graves, I’d seen the markers, and I’d seen the secret burial. And I’d chosen not to be a part of it.