by Smith, Skye
She couldn't see the sunrise because of the hillside to the east of the house, but she saw its effect on the clouds over the Arabian Sea. And she tried, she really did try to meditate to the waking of the sun. It was the smell of Will's fresh coffee that eventually defeated her. She pretended to keep her lotus pose, but he seemed to know she was faking because he came and sat beside her and put two cups of it between them.
"Thank you," she said, and dropped all pretense of meditating and sipped the coffee.
"Thank you," he said sipping, "it is such a pleasure to see someone meditating in my home. My last guests were a couple of guys from my old company, uh military company. Same time, same place, but they would talk trucks and fishing and fart a lot while the sun rose."
He was staring at her, she knew. She pulled her sarong closer around her shoulders, so that it better covered her breasts.
"Don't worry, love. I stare a lot, but I won't touch. I mean, look around at the view. I spend most of my life staring at things." He looked down at the mini beach, then he stood and left her for seconds and returned with a powerful spotting scope. He pointed it down at the cove. "Got ta leave ya, love. There's fish in the cove. Tonight's supper."
He handed her the spotting scope and she watched him dance down the steep zig zag path. There was a small shack close to where the boat was pulled up and he stepped into it. When he came out he was carrying a fishing rod and a net. He put the rod down and he carried the net over his shoulder as he danced precariously along the rocks that created the little cove.
He spent a long time looking down into the water, and a long time sorting the net. Finally he threw it. The edges of the net must have been weighted and he must have spun it as he threw because it swirled out and opened and then dropped into the water. Once it sank, he used a rope to slowly pull it towards the beach. He hooted.
Marique sat down beside her and took a turn with the spotting scope. She handed it back with a shrug. "So what's Tarzan up to?" she asked while she sipped Tarzan's coffee.
"He saw supper swim in to the cove so he went down to put in an order."
"Merde," Marique said and grabbed the scope back to look. " 'e caught a big one and two small ones. Wow, 'e's throwing the small ones back. 'Ave you ever fished?"
"I spent one summer helping a fisherman in Albion. He barely paid for his fuel. Fishing is a disease with men, like collecting old china is with women. You keep doing it because today’s failure makes you believe that tomorrow you will have a good day."
Will joined them after he had hung the net up to dry, had put the rest of the equipment away, and had scaled, gutted, beheaded and betailed the big fish. It was some kind of a tuna, and weighed about five pounds headless and gutted. The other fish were snacking on its remains down in the cove. He washed it under the garden hose and then wrapped in yesterday's newspaper and put it in the fridge.
When he found his coffee gone, he busied himself with making more. Marique walked down the front steps and laid her sarong out on a small stretch of level land, and sunbathed before the sun became too strong. Maya sat where she was and scanned the horizon with the big scope, sipping coffee.
"So Will," she asked, "what do you do all day?"
"You mean besides sitting here watching the fabulous view? Not much. That little fishing expedition could be it for the day, you know, other than swimming and reading and listening to music. Umm, I have a radio that sort of picks up a channel every once in a while, if you want news.
"So can we walk to the village from here, or is it by boat only?"
"You can walk but it's a thorny path, and then you have to get across the river. If there's anyone with a boat they will take you across, but if not, well, I wouldn't wade in that river. It's kind of a sewer, and I've seen alligators and sharks in it."
"So we are stuck here if we don't have a boat?"
"Nah, if you walk the other way after a few hundred yards of bad path you come to a washed-out dirt road. The road leads inland to another village on the highway. Its about a mile." He smiled at the young beauty. She looked like a typical useless girl, but she had already surprised him once with the body surfing.
"Do you know boats?" he asked, expecting a no.
"I worked a summer on a small fishing boat, like in Northern California, you know, big ocean, rough coast." She gestured to his boat. " I could handle the motor and the boat, but I couldn't pull it up or down the beach. That sucker has a solid bottom, like a carved out log. It must weigh a ton."
"Hey, no problem. I'm at this end to help you launch it and bring it in. Over in the village, instead of beaching it, just take it into the river and tie it up at the first dock on the left. That's behind the house where I keep the jeep. Tell you what, later on we'll do a practice run. See, already it's turning into a busy day."
He was right. It was a busy day. Between sun bathing and swimming and reading and listening to music and watching the endless view and making a practice run to the village, well, the day was suddenly gone and sunset began. Maya had decided to do some yoga while watching the sun settle into the sea. It was getting close to the clouds on the horizon now, but Will and Marique were arguing about how to cook the fish. Their buzz of conversation kept invading her quietude.
Finally she gave up, walked into the kitchen, grabbed the filleting knife from Will, sliced off a chunk of tuna and ate it. "Cook fresh tuna," she said as she slurped it down. "what are you, crazy? Mmm, needs a little soya sauce."
Once Will found his bottle of soya sauce in the collection of half-empty sauce bottles in the door of the refrigerator, they feasted on absolutely fresh number one grade tuna sashimi. They couldn't finish such a big fish, but they did their best.
Will sat there, sated with good food and lovely company, and gazed out at his view. There was some polite hissing going on and Marique looked down, and there was a family of strange cats rubbing their ears against Will's legs. "So what kind of cats are they?"
"They are my guard monkus. That's the mum. I call her Oddy because she has two different eyes. The two medium sized ones are whats left of her first brood, and the three tiny ones are her latest. Her latest husband is out on the path. He never comes in."
"So what dee 'ell is a guard monkus?" asked Marique. She pulled her legs away from the rolly polly tangle playing youngsters. "Not cats I think."
"Really cute," said Maya as she reached her foot out to flip a youngster over with her toe. Oddy gave her a warning look with her cockeyed, well, eyes.
"The English called them mongeese." Will said as he reached across Marique's heavenly front to pick fish scraps off her plate. "They are the local vermin eaters, you know, rats and snakes. Oddy adopted me before she had that first litter. She and her first mate were being chased through the next village by a pack of pariah dogs, and she jumped into my Gypsey while her mate shredded the pack. Couldn't save him, but I drove away with her riding shotgun."
"Ooh, ooh, I know, like, they kill cobras," said Maya. "I saw them on Disney."
"Well, they guard my place, and not just by keeping the rats and snakes out. If you hear them hissing, or if they run into the house hissing, then there is something about."
"Something, like what," Marique said pulling her legs up onto the seat and looking into the dark corners of the room expecting to see rats or snakes.
"Could be a man, or a dog, or something poisonous. No problem. They'll take care of them. You know, chase them off. I've got a deal with the closest villagers that I will pay market price for any chickens they take, if they pay me the same for any cobra's they kill. Course, it's usually a wash, so no money ever seems to change hands."
"A wash?" Marique scrunched up her nose. Slang confused her. "You mean..."
"They usually kill more snakes than chickens so the villagers let them be." Will was feeding his pets the scraps of fish and making sure that the tiny ones ate a good share. "I keep frozen fish scraps in the fridge. You know, like monkus fishcicles. If you go for a walk in the bush, take so
me with you and throw one up the trail ocassionally."
"Huh," Maya said, now also feeding scraps to the cuties.
"Well it means some munkus will go with you on the walk and stay out in front where the action is. The bush paths are no problem when you have a monkus on point." The big male was peeking in from the doorway and licking his chops so Will threw him a choice scrap. "Maya, you come from otter territory up in California. You ever see one take on a dog."
"I've seen them chase dogs," Maya replied. "A dog would have to be pretty stupid not to run and end up getting ripped open by an otter."
"Well it's the same with that male. He's a big sucker. Over a dozen pounds of fighting furry. All claws and teeth and prickly fur and a scent gland that I'm sure he can spray like a skunk. Sort of like a mini wolverine, you know, from where I come from, up in the far north."
Maya looked at the man's face closely. It was a wide and friendly oval face and when she first saw it she had thought he had some Japanese blood in him, like the fishermen at home. Sort of asian looking but not quite. Now she understood. "So are you like, half eskimo?"
"Tutchone Dena. More like a third," he answered with a wide smile. "Half Irish, half Scottish, half Tutchone. That's why I never drink nothin' stronger than beer. I can't risk it. Drink was the ruin of all of my forefathers from all of my halfs."
Maya picked up two of the babies, and stared momma down, and then put one on Marique's lap. Marique stiffened for a few seconds, and then totally relaxed. It was so cute.
"The moon was already up when the sun went down," he remarked to no one in particular, "so it is still not full moon. When it comes up at the same time that the sun goes down, that is the day. Maybe tomorrow." He pushed the creatures softly with his foot so he could stand, and then he took his scope out to a clearing to the north of the house and the women joined him there with a rolly polly tangle of bodies and tails following them.
"I think the sunset is better seen from the 'ouse," whispered Marique.
"Yeah," he said, "but from out here you can see the mouth of the river and the beach bar." He focused the scope and moved it gently and slowly. "Yeah, tomorrow is full moon. Look, you can see the birds are gathering." He pointed to the first back eddy behind the beach bar. He handed the scope to the girls.
"Wow, there are so many," said Marique passing the scope on, "it ees like a bird convention."
"Bastards," he swore at the birds. "They've come for the turtles. Say, you girls interested in helping me on the beach tomorrow morning? I am going to try and keep those birds from wiping out all the sea turtles."
"But sea turtles are 'uge and 'ave big shells. Those birds are nothing to them."
"Not adult turtles," he said impatiently. "The newly-hatched turtles. They will be hatching today or tomorrow and they will have to crawl from the nest, across the beach and into the waves. With all those birds, not a one will reach the sea."
"I'll help," said Maya eagerly. "What do we do?"
"Just run around and chase the birds away from the baby turtles. It's not exactly skilled work, but it needs to be done."
"But don't they 'ave turtle rangers or something? I 'eard about them when I was in Goa before."
"The rangers are there to keep the locals away from the turtles. They are a delicacy. They don't usually interfere with nature. Besides, the rangers will all be busy in the official turtle beach parks."
"Okay," said Marique passing back the scope, "I'll 'elp too."
"Right then, I'm going to take some gear down to the boat and get it ready. You girls should lay out some warm clothes and some cloth to flap at the birds and then catch some zzz's. I'll wake you early."
Despite his warning, and his own early bed, the women did not go to bed early. The almost full moon and its silver light were too precious to miss. The full moon was nature's streetlight. In a place without much electrical lighting you could almost read by it. It was no wonder that before electricity, all the festivals and parties were scheduled for the full moon. It meant everyone could still see what they were doing after the sun set.
* * * * *
"Come on, get up," he said yet again shaking the swaying bed.
The two girls tried to squirm away from the shaking, but it was the whole bed that was shaking. A flourish of rude Flemish words rose out from under the covers. He grabbed the covers and pulled them all the way back and was forced to suck in his breath at the beautiful scene that was presented to his eyes. Where was Gauguin when you needed him?
He turned on the light strapped to his forehead so that he could see what he was doing, and placed the straps of his two spare head lights like crowns on each of their heads. They both looked up at him, and he was dazzled by the beams of light. "Not in the face," he moaned, and they turned to look at each other and dazzled each other's eyes. "Oh!" "Oh! right" came the reply.
"Are you crazy?" Marique said, blinking her eyes to get the dazzle out of them, "the sun won't rise for hours yet."
"I told you we would leave early. There's coffee on the table, now get up both of you."
* * * * *
He steered the boat into the river, rudely woke at least a thousand sea birds that were sleeping along its banks, and tied it up at the first dock. They grabbed their gear, which included some old and thin sleeping bags, and trudged towards the beach. There was still no glow from the sun, but the moon was lighting their way like a street light.
On the ocean side of the sand bar beach, he used a short shovel to scoop out a round hole in the sand, building up the hump of sand on the windward, sea, side. The hole was large enough for four or five people to lie in to stay out of the chilly ocean breeze. He had some candle stubs and he lit one and put it in the center of the hole. They lay around it on straw beach mats and covered themselves with the old sleeping bags, just as campers in America laid around a camp fire.
"This was how it was when the very first full moon party first started up in Anjuna," he said. "Everyone would scoop out holes to stay out of the wind and get stoned and watch the beach scene in the moonlight. That was back when the beautiful people from the Spanish island of Ibiza would winter there.
People, especially the women, would dance around in the moonlight dressed in sparkly clothes. Each scoop in the sand was like a table of people in a coffee shop. People would dance in the moonlight between the scoops to visit with interesting people from all over the globe, or to talk about their adventures getting overland to India. Lots of acid trippers. Lots of the local women carrying baskets of fruit and baked goods on their heads and making a good living from selling them on the beach."
"Yes, that is what we are looking for," said Maya, "not some drunken club scene. You can find that in any big city club. When I first started high school, my classmates used to have summer full moon parties on the local beach. As far as 'the scene' goes they were pretty lame. We were too young to drink but at least one of us would have stolen a joint or a pack of cigs from an older sister. We would build a campfire and sit around it and look up at the moon."
"We did nothing like that," said Marique. "It sounds wonderful."
"It didn't last long. As the girls got older and grew tits, the older boys started hanging around and they always had beer or wine. It turned into a bad scene. Bloody booze ruins more parties. How about you, Will?"
"Yeah well, the booze was a big problem where I grew up. Still is. That and sniffing gasoline when you're broke. That's where I learned to make these scoops to get out of the wind. Of course we were scooping snow. Sort of like a temporary igloo."
"Igloo!" said Marique. "where did you grow up? The Arctic?"
"Yeah. Up in the Yukon, ya know, Canada. Up there in the winter, when everything was clean and white, the sun would disappear for a month at a time, but that meant that the moon was high and bright. Really bright. We would go on midnight hunts."
"So I guess when you got out of school you moved south," asked Maya.
"Naw. My first good job was as an Arctic Range
r. Not the polar bear kind. The keep-the-Russians-from-landing kind. Me and my sniper rifle. Living rough and loving it. That was a long time ago."
"If you loved it, why did you quit?"
"Ah, my dad died and left me a thousand dollars, so I spent it on an all-inclusive holiday to Puerto Vallarta, down in Mexico. It was the middle of winter, yet on my first night I walked around in just my shirtsleeves. The next day I got up early and went for a swim in the sea and I stood up and I looked back towards the sandy beach and at the long row of coco palms and the jungle covered mountains behind them, and I just stared and let the warm waves roll by me.
I remember saying to myself. 'What the fuck are you doing with your life? Winter is not necessary.' Well, that changed me. First thing I did was move way down south to Edmonton where it only gets down to forty below in the winter."
"Forty below," Marique shivered. "My god, I cannot imagine. Wait, are you talking world degrees or American degrees of cold."
"It's the same in both, love. Effing cold." he laughed. "Here, I brought a thermos of coffee to keep us warm, but we have to share the cup."
"The sea freezes at zero American," Maya spoke up. "I'm willing to share a cup as long as the coffee is sweet."
"That is about, what, minus twenty in the rest of the world." Marique said grabbing the first pour for herself. "You were right. That kind of winter is not necessary. So you spent your winters in Mexico, and now you spend them here in Goa. Good for you."
"Nah, the Mexico thing never panned out cause I got drunk and joined the regular army. Hey keep looking around for any movement on the beach okay."
"But wasn't the Rangers the army?" Maya asked. "It is in America."
"Sort of. I mean the army snapped me up right away, and rushed me through basic training and sent me overseas as a peacekeeper in Kosovo. That was back when Canada was always one of the good guys because their army was attached to the UN and our job was to stand between two sets of bad guys so they wouldn't slaughter each other."