Jefry stepped away from the rim of the volcano. The wind was strong, ruffled his white hair. ‘I’d no idea. Really ... ‘
‘Yes, well now you know,’ Forb said, his anger fading. What he was angry with he didn’t know. ‘It’s all right. I’m pretty used to it by now. I’ve survived for this long. Who knows, there may be another plant that’ll reverse the tumour and my weakness, should I be lucky enough to find it.’
Jefry said, ‘Who else knows this?’
‘Just Myranda.’
Jefry nodded as Forb walked up to him. Jefry put his hand on the doctor’s shoulder.
Forb smiled, sighed. ‘Hang on to life, Jefry. Don’t throw it away so easily. We all have moments of weakness. Just think about it for more than an afternoon. You’d be surprised.’
Jefry nodded again. ‘Look, I don’t know what I’m thinking. I’ve had to try and come to terms with some real heavy shit.’
‘It’s easy to give up,’ Forb said. ‘Harder to face things.’
‘Tell me about it.’
‘You want to get back? There’s going to be a major storm tonight. It does help talking Jefry. No matter what it is. I should know.’ Jefry looked as thought couldn’t argue with a dying man.
They walked back along the rim of the volcano, down the slope. The breeze was strong on their faces so they had to walk with their heads down. Forb could feel the first drops of rain on his head shortly before they entered the forest. He turned every minute or so to check that Jefry was following.
It was quieter in the shelter of the palm forest.
‘So, what happened earlier then?’ Forb asked as they followed a well-worn path through fig re-growth. ‘Told you. Wife’s a slut.’ ‘Jef, you can tell me. I’ve seen a lot of things and I hardly know you enough to be judgemental. If anything I can give good advice.’
‘She’s pregnant.’
‘Pregnant?’ Forb asked.
‘Yes.’
‘And it’s not yours?’
‘No.’
‘I see.’
‘Exactly.’ Jefry shook his head.
‘Do you know whose it is?’
‘Yes.’
‘Who?’ Forb said.
‘Manolin.’
‘Manolin?’
‘Yep, Manolin,’ Jefry said. ‘Who’d’ve thought it, eh?’ He looked up at Forb, then down to the path.
Forb said, ‘Seems very unlike him.’ Forb had a lot of respect for the young man who’d come to his shores to help him. There was a bond between the two, one that formed over an interest that was common only between them.
‘Apparently not,’ Jefry said.
‘How do you feel?’
‘How d’you think?’ Jefry stifled a laugh.
‘Not good, I know. Sorry. I’ll rephrase that: what do you think you’ll do?’ ‘Can’t say,’ Jefry said. ‘You can never tell until you’re confronted with it. When I see them agai nI’II guess I’ll know.’
Forb said, ‘Do you want some more time alone?’
‘How can I? I’m stuck here with ‘em.’
‘I can take you to another hut in the forest,’ Forb said. ‘There’re loads of empty ones here and there. Part of the island’s history, and whatnot.’ ‘If you could, that’d help.’
‘Sure,’ Forb said. ‘If it’s any consolation, I don’t think anyone else knows.’
‘Wouldn’t matter if they did.’
‘Will you stick by Yana?’
‘Oh I don’t know, do I? I’ll need to think about it for a while.’ Jefry paused for a moment as they climbed over a trunk that had fallen across the path. ‘She’s always wanted a kid, you know?’
‘Yana?’ Forb said.
‘Yeah. Always. I couldn’t give her that.’
‘Sorry to hear that.’
‘Oh, it’s all right,’ Jefry said. ‘You get used to those sorts of things
as you get older. She wouldn’t care even if it was an infertile runt, like a mule.’ ‘It’s tricky, rumel-human relationships,’ Forb said. ‘From what I remember, anyway.’
‘You can say that again. It’s the mingling, really. Whenever you’re out and about, you tend, normally, to stick to your own species. No one talks about it, and rumels and humans have lived side by side for so many generations, but still, there’s always something. A disapproving look, or something.’
‘That’s one thing I like about being here,’ Forb said. ‘You stay away from all that politicking. Well, it’s not completely free. I had a row with Ghula a few weeks back because he cut down the wrong trees for boat wood. Wouldn’t talk to me for days.’
‘You’re lucky, very lucky. Being close to nature, those sorts of things are much less important, I guess.’
‘True. Working with the land and the sea, you lose all that. Doesn’t matter what you are, you think of the island as one entity. And I suppose she is really.’
The forest became progressively darker as Forb turned onto another path, one that the hogs used often. It led to the aromatic pittosporum grove that ran parallel to the beach, on the north side of the island. The constant bombardment of different scents seemed to drag the mind off in different directions.
‘Was it too difficult for us?’ Jefry said. ‘Or did she just crave a human?’
‘You can never know, really,’ Forb said. ‘There’re all sorts of things in a person’s mind that can press the self-destruct button. It’s not so much the difference between rumel and humans, but men and women. If it’s any consolation, you’re not alone, Jefry. Thousands fail. It’s nothing personal, although you can’t help but think it is.’
‘I don’t understand why? I’m so good to her. I’ve never cheated.
I’m always there. I know I’m not the most exciting person in Has-jahn, but why? And why him? Why Manolin?’ ‘You shouldn’t ask yourself those questions, Jef. They’ll only destroy you.’ ‘But I want to know why Manolin? Was it the human thing? What
do you think it could be?’
Forb said, ‘It’s really not my place, Jef.’
‘You must have a theory, at least. You seem to for everything else.’
Forb overlooked the bitterness in Jefry’s tone. He led the rumel to a small, solid hut, about ten feet by ten with a sloping bamboo roof. Forb pushed the door open, allowed Jefry to walk in first. Then he stood in the doorway. ‘There’s flint and kindling in the corner to make a fire by the hatch on the side.’ He indicated a tiny fireplace. ‘I used to spend some nights here, to think. It’s rather pleasant at times. It’s going to be a rough one tonight. There’s fruit on the trees nearby, should you get hungry. I’ll come and find you in the morning.’
Jefry nodded, sitting on the floor by the fireplace.
‘Now you’ll be all right, won’t you?’
The rumellooked up, nodded again.
‘Good. I’ll see you tomorrow,’ Forb said. He closed the door.
‘Oh, doc ...’ Jefry said.
Forb leaned in again.
‘Thanks.’
Forb rolled his lips in a smile, exchanging a warm look with the rumel. He stepped out, closed the door, stomped into the rain.
Jefry was sitting on a mat in the corner of the hut. His neck hurt. He watched the fire through half closed eyes. The flames were a bright blur through tears that had now settled. The hut convulsed as the wind rocked it. With a careless gesture, he placed some kindling on the fire. The wood took the flames, burned, filled the room with a strange green smoke, filtered through what acted as the chimney, but was more of a wooden pit. Jefry frowned. He hadn’t smelled that type of smoke before. It was more of a sweet scent, heady, penetrating.
Somewhere outside you could hear trees moving, but there were no windows through which to see them. As he leant back he felt water on his right hand. He looked down, noted saw that it was beginning to rain as there was a small hole by his hand. He slid along the floor to keep dry, brought his knees up to his chin. Outside, the wind screamed.
His head felt heavy, and he w
anted to go to sleep, but it was too noisy. The rain had rattled against the bamboo. Then, something caught his eye. To his left, through the small hole, something was
moving. He could see a glistening, which was not water. The thing appeared to hover, then crawled around the hole. long. He could tell from the markings that it was an adder. It hurled itself into the dry.
Jefry pitied it. There was a storm outside. He would leave the snake alone, let it have some warmth inside. He watched the creature coil then almost roll forwards, spilling opposite him. About three feet long, he watched it with detached fascination. Crawling, it moved nearer the fire, then remained still. Jefry ignored it. Minutes passed and he listened, still, to the rain outside.
‘Terrible weather,’ a voice said.
Jefry looked up, his head hazy from the smoke. He looked around and saw nothing. The snake lay in the corner, still. Jefry shook his head and rested it on his knees again.
‘I said it’s terrible weather.’
Jefry looked up again. Nothing. Curious, he felt at ease. He stood up then opened the door, which, once it was unlocked, was pushed open by the force of the wind. It was dark, but could see the greens and blacks of the leaves shimmering with rain. The trees groaned under the strain of the wind. There were no animals that he could see. No people. There was only darkness.
He turned, closed the door, returned to his position on the floor.
‘Told you so,’ the voice said. It was a baritone sound.
‘Who said that?’ Jefry asked, placing his hands on the floor either side, as if feeling the wood would help his search. His eyes widened. ‘Well, let’s narrow it down, eh?’ Jefry looked at the snake. Its head was pointed towards him, its body uncoiling with precision. ‘You?’ He laughed.
‘Well, who else?’
Jefry leaned back against the side of the hut, his heart beating a little faster. ‘It couldn’t. .. Am I talking with myself, or something?’
‘Well, then you were. I’m talking to you now.’ The adder moved in front of the rumel, and Jefry shuffled to a cross-legged position. Was he going mad? Had he been stung by an insect that had brought on some momentary insanity?
‘Yes, well here I am,’ the snake said. ‘You can close your mouth, too.’
Jefry said, ‘What, urn ... what do you want?’
‘Charming. A bit of shelter wouldn’t be too much to ask.’
Jefry felt a sudden guilt, but then he chuckled at the absurdity of feeling such a thing towards a snake.
‘What’s so funny? I amuse you? Yes?’
‘I didn’t realise there were talking snakes on the island, that’s all.’
‘There aren’t. Singular, if you will: snake. And yes, my
conversation adds a little something, I must say.’
The snake didn’t appear to move its jaw much. Jefry leaned forwards to study the creature in depth, but there was nothing to suggest it was capable of speech. It looked like a regular snake. ‘So, urn, what’s your name?’
‘Oh, please. Shut up, Jef. Right, so what are you going to do?’ Jefry convinced himself that its jaw was moving. ‘How do you know my name?’ ‘Don’t insult my intelligence, Jef. We serpents have a bad rep, admittedly, but give me some credit. What are you going to do?’
, ‘Bout what?’
‘Oh, for pity’s sake,’ the snake said. ‘I despair. About your wife, and Manolin.’
‘Oh.’ Jefry looked down, feeling embarrassed that someonesomething-had penetrated his emotions. More than anything he wanted not to think about his wife or Manolin, content simply to listen to the rain drumming against leaves and wood. ‘I’m not sure.’
‘Well, it’s quite simple, isn’t it?
‘Is it?’ Jefry asked.
‘Yes.’
Jefry said, ‘Well what then?’
‘You must kill Manolin.’
The rumel raised an eyebrow.
‘Don’t look at me like that,’ the adder said. ‘Kill him. He’s humiliated you. He’s screwed your missus. He’s hurting a lot of people. You’re angry, aren’t you?’ ‘Well, yes,’ Jefry said, inwardly surprised at the intelligence of the creature. ‘Good. Good. We ought to act more with our emotions, Jef. Emotions get things done with vigour, don’t they just?’
‘Well, I’m not sure.’
‘It does. Believe me.’ The snake oozed nearer the fire. ‘You might want to put more kindling on. Getting damn cold.’ Jefry shuffled across, placed more of the scraps of bark on the fire. The room filled with the strange smoke again. ‘Much better,’ the snake said. It turned its head towards Jefry, who had sat back in the corner again. ‘Upsetting, isn’t it?’
Jefry nodded.
‘You’ll stay angry forever, you do realise this?’
Jefry said nothing.
‘You’ll take it out on any female you’re with. Can’t shed your skin like me. You’ll wear the scars. So, you might as well try and do
something to feel good about it.’
Jefry tilted his head to the snake. ‘Are you for real?’
‘Are you? Give me evidence of that, if you are ... ‘
Jefry was silent. He couldn’t be dealing with questions of a philosophical nature, not in his state. ‘Thought not. No one ever does. Had a whole host of things to say to enforce the point, too.’
‘Thought you might’ve,’ Jefry said.
‘You give in too easily.’ The snake moved across the floor to the hole on the other side. It stopped, looking out. ‘It’s going to stay like this all night. By morning it’ll be still again.’
Jefry could only manage a sigh.
‘You don’t say much, do you?’
Jefry said, ‘Oh, I am sorry. What d’you want me to say? Sing a song, perhaps?’ ‘Damn, no. Can’t stand songs. Get enough of that from the
islanders. Talk, Jef. Talk. What’s on your mind?’
‘You know damn well what is,’ Jefry said.
‘So, tell me the plan then. What you going to do?’
‘I don’t know,’ Jefry said. ‘I’m still hurting, all right.’
‘Could always poison him,’ the adder said. ‘And her.’
‘No.’
‘Do you still want her? Could you still have her?’
‘It’s not as simple as that,’ Jefry said. ‘You can’t just have it black
and white. You can’t simplify what people do like that. Who knows what I’m going to do? I still love her, if that’s what you mean.’ ‘You’re a tough one, Jef, I’ll say. Course, if she’s done it this time, she’s probably done it before ... ‘
‘You’re not helping here.’
‘Just pointing out the facts, Jef, just pointing out the facts.’ It coiled up by the hole, tilting its head outside. Then, it turned back again, as if unable to decide what to do. ‘What’s to say she hasn’t?’ The room was still filled with the smoke from the unfamiliar wood, drifting in hypnotic drifts.
‘Plan B-kill the man, keep the woman. Pretend the baby’s yours.’
‘And when the baby has a child of its own one day? It’ll be plain it’s not a hybrid, so it can’t be mine.’
‘Kill them both?’
‘How about I kill no one,’ Jefry said.
‘Your call. You know, up forest, I’ve some friends who pack one hell of a bite ... ‘
‘Thanks, but I can handle this.’
‘Suit yourself. Think about it though. He’s younger than you are, smarter, more handsome; he’s a human, too. She’ll keep the child; you know she wants one badly. Fact is, Jef, you haven’t slept with her in ages, and he walked straight in. He’s more man than you, Jef. More man.’
Jefry could feel his heart pumping against the wall of the hut. His tail twitched. What this reptile said certainly held some truth-ones he didn’t wish to acknowledge. A bitterness blossomed inside of him, focussed, strong.
‘You’re angry, I know it. It’s not a bad thing. But play it cool, Jef. If you’re going to kill him, there’s a whole host of ways in wh
ich a man can die whilst on an island.’
‘Go away,’ Jefry said.
‘I’m sorry?’ the adder said.
‘Go away.’
When Jefry looked at the snake he saw only the tail flickering through the hole. There was a puddle inside. He glanced at the fire, blinked, rubbed his eyes. It had died down a little. He had no idea what time it was, but he felt tired-a sense that hours had passed and he wasn’t aware of where to. Inside him there were still hot ashes of anger. Whatever it was that the snake was saying had generated some much needed clarity and direction in his mind. For a moment he considered if the snake was even there, whether it was a figment of his imagination. The issues the reptile had raised were ones that only Jefry could have figured out himself, eventually, but it was as if his thoughts had sped up. For a good while afterwards, the rumel simply gazed at the final wafts of smoke that drifted from the fire in a single, steady stream.
Yana Speaking
On these pages I feel the need to write everything down in some fancy prose, but I think the bare facts say more than a false style ever can in this instance. Besides, I know that if I exaggerate, I’ll lose the essence of this island. I’ll loose the sense of place.
So, in simple, clear words then:
I am lying on my front, my cheek touching the white sand. Before me, the sea stretches. I am at Mnebu Bay, and everything is bright. Each drop of water sparkles. It’s simply too hot to move. Maybe it’s my current health, or maybe it’s the island, but everything is so sensual.
I think it’s the island.
It’s mid morning and the wind is enough to stop me from sweating. My skin still tingles from the heat. I can see little fishing boats coming in. The men are silhouettes, and there are at least four shades of blue that merge with one another. And there is every wave spilling up the beach, receding then being overtaken again.
Repeat and fade, I could stay here forever.
The Reef Page 22