by Lance Morcan
Screaming at the spirits, she shouted, “Keep the missionary woman and Nathan Johnson apart!” She imagined she saw the spirits react violently at the mention of missionary woman, but couldn’t be sure. Nearly out of it, she added, “Remove her out of the way of temptation so that Nathan Johnson has eyes only for me.”
With that, Selaima lost consciousness and fell forward into the fire, its heat scorching the flesh from her face, neck, and arms. She would wake when sunlight replaced the moonlight that presently shone through the opening in the cavern roof above her. When she did, the skin on her face, neck, and arms would be unmarked, completely free of even the tiniest blemish.
Selaima didn’t understand the gift, but she trusted it. It gave her magical powers and those powers protected her just as she knew they would protect Nathan.
16
Squawking seagulls attacked the decaying remains of shark carcasses as Nathan walked along the beach. The carcasses were all that was left of the sharks after the villagers had finished with them following the miracle the Shark Caller had performed.
Above the squawking gulls and the distant thunder of waves on the reef, the sound of children singing reached Nathan. Looking over at the nearby mission station, he could see Susannah leading a dozen Qopa children in singing a hymn in English. The strains of “The Lord Is My Shepherd” carried to him on a gentle breeze.
Nathan watched Susannah intently. He thought back to the previous day and silently cursed, knowing how close he’d come to kissing her near the very spot he was now standing. Susannah finally saw him and waved. He waved back and resumed his walk, leaving the young woman to continue leading the children in song.
Further along the beach, Nathan found Drake Senior chopping up a length of driftwood for firewood. On the sand beside him, Nathan could see the missionary’s trusty pistol lay on top of his Bible. Covering his bets both ways, Nathan thought. The good reverend was clearly taking no chances following the recent raid.
Drake Senior didn’t acknowledge Nathan. The younger man wasn’t surprised. He was under no illusions: Susannah’s father didn’t approve of him and nothing he did was likely to change that.
Just beyond Drake Senior, Nathan stopped at the rock memorial that Waisale had built in memory of his beloved Sina. Nathan wondered if Waisale would ever find her. From what Joeli had told him, he knew that was unlikely. To find Sina, Waisale would have to find the outcasts’ hideout. The villagers had been hunting Rambuka and his outcasts for years without success.
Nathan had a sudden urge to test his fitness. His chest wound was healing nicely, but he hadn’t really put it to the test. Checking that he was out of sight of the mission station, he stripped off and ran naked into the sea. As soon as he was waist-deep in the water, he began swimming parallel to the shore.
Nathan swam hard for a hundred yards or so then turned and swam back to where he’d started. He finished feeling surprisingly strong and vowed he’d swim further tomorrow.
#
Later, keeping to their daily routine, Drake Senior and Susannah walked up to the village. There, they circulated among small groups of villagers, praying over them and reading excerpts aloud from their Bibles. Some villagers were receptive while others looked bemused as the father-and-daughter missionary team tried to explain, in faltering Fijian, how the son of their god had died nailed to a cross for their sins and how it was evil to worship stone idols.
“Why do you worship the son of a god who is nailed to a wooden cross?” a young mother asked, pointing to an image of the crucifixion on the cover of Drake Senior’s Bible.
“Because he died for my sins . . . and yours,” Drake Senior answered patiently.
“When did he do this?” the woman’s husband asked.
“Many centuries ago.”
“Why would the son of your god die for our sins before we were even born?” the young mother asked.
As Drake Senior battled with the Fijian language to try to get through to his bemused audience, Susannah found her attention was wandering. She couldn’t help thinking how peaceful Momi Bay looked. Along the shore, fishermen were standing, waist-deep in the water, casting nets while others, with spears at the ready, were stalking fish in the shallows. Among the rocks, women and children searched for mussels and other shellfish.
Susannah noticed a young couple walking hand in hand through the village. They had eyes only for each other. She couldn’t help thinking what a handsome couple they made. Watching them took her back to her teenage years and the innocent relationship between her and her first love, the handsome Cockney lad. She looked wistfully at the youthful Fijian couple as they disappeared into a bure. They clearly had plans that didn’t involve anyone else.
The young Englishwoman suddenly noticed Nathan walking through the village. He was heading toward the bure he’d been allocated.
Susannah pretended not to see him. Moments later, she sneaked a glance at him only to find he was staring directly at her. They smiled fleetingly at each other just before he disappeared into his bure.
Susannah found she was breathing faster than usual and her pulse was racing. Aware her father had observed her looking at Nathan, she quickly pulled herself together and tried to focus on what Drake Senior was saying to their growing audience.
Shouts from a lookout alerted everyone to the arrival of a foreign craft in the bay. Susannah looked up to see a huge drua, or sacred canoe, rounding the headland. The villagers stopped what they were doing and gestured excitedly toward the vessel. It belonged to a friendly tribe from the Mamanucas island group and was laden with items of trade.
Nathan emerged from his bure, attracted by the shouting. He immediately saw the drua. It reminded him of the craft he saw being launched back in Levuka. The young man wondered if the launching of this drua had been accompanied by the same number of human sacrifices.
Led by Joeli, the villagers walked down to the beach to greet the Mamanucans. Susannah and her father joined them and quickly found themselves being carried along by the throng of excited people. Nathan casually followed along behind.
By the time the villagers reached the beach, the drua was rapidly closing with the shore. In the bow of the vessel was Lemeki, the Mamanucans’ ratu. A large scar down one side of his face spoiled his otherwise fine features. However, his most notable feature was his hairstyle. Three feet across and at least that high, it was even more massive than Joeli’s—and brighter, too. It was dyed red with blue stripes running through it.
Lemeki spotted Joeli on the beach and nodded toward him. Joeli stared back sullenly. Although Lemeki was an old friend and longtime ally of the Qopa, Joeli wasn’t at all happy about the other’s hair. As the ratu of Momi Bay, he prided himself on having the most magnificent hairstyle and didn’t like playing second string to anyone—especially someone from another clan.
When the drua finally reached the shallows, the strong and agile Lemeki jumped onto the sand and strode up to Joeli. The Mamanucan smiled inwardly as he noticed Joeli couldn’t take his eyes off his hair.
Despite his jealousy, Joeli put on a brave face and smiled. “Bula,” he said. “You look well today, my brother.”
Lemeki responded, “Bula, it has been too many seasons, my brother.” He suddenly assumed a grave expression. “I received news of your father’s death only recently. Iremaia was a great ratu.” Lemeki suddenly smiled and slapped Joeli on the back. “Now the Qopa have another great ratu.”
Momentarily forgetting Lemeki’s hairstyle, Joeli glanced at the vegetables, fruit, live turtles, and other trade items in the drua. He asked, “What is it you hope to trade those for?”
Lemeki looked pointedly at the remains of the beached shark carcasses. “We, the Mamanucans, would be happy to relieve you of what is left of those.”
Joeli laughed and embraced Lemeki. “I knew the smell of shark would soon bring the hungry Mamanucans here.”
Still laughing, Joeli led Lemeki up to the village. The other Mamanucans followed with t
heir slaves, who carried their trade items. They chattered animatedly with the local villagers as old friendships were renewed.
Following along, Nathan noted that the visitors’ slaves, who he’d learn later were from another island group, were of such noble appearance they appeared more like royalty than slaves. He looked out for Susannah and her father, but couldn’t see them in the crowd.
In the village, the Mamanucans exchanged their goods for dried shark meat and fins. There was plenty to go round. All parties appeared satisfied with the trade.
Nathan finally saw Susannah. He was disappointed to see she was still with her father. Taking a deep breath, he wandered over to join them. “Hello, Susannah,” he smiled. He was happy to see that Susannah looked genuinely pleased to see him.
“Hello, Nathan.”
Nathan looked at Drake Senior and immediately noted the man did not look at all pleased to see him.
He knows I lust after his daughter.
Steeling himself, Nathan said, “Good afternoon, Reverend.”
“Mr. Johnson,” Drake Senior mumbled.
The three turned their attention back to the proceedings. Nathan and Susannah pretended to take keen interest in what was going on, but their body language suggested they had other things on their mind. Their interest in each other was not lost on Susannah’s father.
Drake Senior took Susannah by the arm and addressed Nathan sternly. “Excuse us. We have more of the Lord’s work to do.” He then began escorting Susannah back toward the mission station. Walking away, Susannah glanced back at Nathan, who flashed her a quick smile.
#
That night, the villagers and their guests watched as the Mamanucans’ slaves tended a strip of heated rocks in the ground. There was an air of excitement.
The two ratus, Joeli and Lemeki, were sitting side by side on a raised platform overlooking the heated rocks. Joeli was barely recognizable. Since the Mamanucans’ arrival, Joeli had received a makeover. Cloak upon cloak had been draped over his beefy frame so that he looked considerably bigger than usual, and he wore a pearl necklace, bracelets, and bangles he’d acquired in recent trades. But his most outstanding feature was his hairstyle. No longer resembling a huge orange puffball, his hair had been dyed bright yellow and elongated so that it rose even higher than Lemeki’s.
Now it was Lemeki’s turn to be sullen. The look on his face told everyone he wasn’t happy about being upstaged.
A dapper-looking Nathan sauntered over to see what was happening. He noticed Susannah and her father in the crowd and debated whether to join them. He’d had enough of the cold shoulder treatment he’d been receiving from Drake Senior, but like a moth drawn to a flame, he found himself drawn to Susannah. Sidling up to her, he said, “Good evening.”
Susannah disguised her pleasure at seeing Nathan behind a polite smile, but her heart was racing. “Good evening, Nathan,” she murmured.
Nathan nodded to Drake Senior, who responded with the briefest of nods. “What’s going on here?” the young man asked feigning interest in the proceedings.
“The Mamanucans’ slaves are about to give a firewalking demonstration,” Susannah explained, knowing full well that Nathan’s interest lay elsewhere.
None the wiser, Nathan was about to question her further when a roar went up from the assembled. He looked around to see half a dozen slaves, all men, emerging from a small hut. Seemingly in a trance, they chanted as they walked toward the heated rocks. The rocks were so hot they glowed red. A large slave then dropped a piece of tapa, or bark cloth, onto the nearest rocks and it immediately burst into flames. The chanting continued as the slave stepped barefoot onto the rocks and started walking across them. Nathan noted he showed no sign of discomfort let alone pain. The other slaves followed, trancelike, in single file. Nathan and the Drakes looked on in disbelief.
Susannah turned to Drake Senior. “How on earth do they do that, Papa?”
Drake Senior shrugged. He was as mystified as her. The crowd voiced its admiration as the slaves retraced their steps across the hot rocks. “I hear the firewalkers are all of the Tui Sawau tribe, from an island south of here,” Drake Senior said.
As the missionary talked, the back of Nathan’s hand brushed against Susannah’s. To each, the other’s touch seemed as hot as the red-hot coals before them. Susannah was tempted to leave the back of her hand resting against his, but she reflexively withdrew it. She immediately regretted this as his touch had thrilled her so.
For his part, Nathan wanted to reach across and grab her hand, but he wasn’t sure how she’d react. The speed with which she’d removed her hand from his suggested she wasn’t receptive to his advances.
They glanced at each other fleetingly. Each hid their feelings from the other, but the emotions of each were in full flight. Susannah suddenly felt giddy. She knew she should walk away now, but lacked the will.
Unaware of the mini-drama occurring next to him, Drake Senior said, “They are the only people in all of Fiji who can do this. The common belief is a spirit god has given them a supernatural immunity to fire.”
Nathan and Susannah pretended to be interested in Drake Senior’s explanation, but their thoughts were elsewhere. Susannah was sure her face must be bright red and prayed her father wouldn’t notice.
Drake Senior didn’t notice, but Selaima did. Hidden in the crowd opposite, her eyes never left Susannah’s face. The jealous slave girl searched Susannah’s face for some outward sign of the curse she knew would soon befall her. Just how that curse would manifest itself, and when, she wasn’t sure. What she was sure of was the spirits would ensure that the missionary woman was placed beyond the reach of Nathan—for that is what her curse demanded and her curses always came about.
The firewalkers finally finished their ritual and dispersed to the cheers of the crowd.
Sensing something was up between the Nathan and Susannah, Drake Senior racked his brains for a solution to a problem he’d known had been brewing for some time. While he trusted his daughter and knew she’d eventually recognize the ungodly American adventurer was unworthy of her, he didn’t want to see her get hurt in the meantime.
What to do?
The answer came to him in a flash of intuition. Turning to Nathan, he said, “Mr. Johnson, perhaps you would like to join us for supper tomorrow evening?”
Nathan couldn’t believe his ears. Neither could Susannah. Nathan stammered, “Well, I—”
“Good,” Drake Senior said quickly. “That’s settled then.” The reverend then marched off, pulling Susannah with him.
Susannah looked back at Nathan. Her expression told him she was as mystified as he was as to why her father had invited him to supper. Needless to say, Nathan was secretly delighted—and so was Susannah.
Walking toward the mission station, Drake Senior prayed he’d done the right thing. Reviewing his rationale, he believed if Susannah spent long enough in the company of the American, talking to him and hearing his selfish viewpoints on life, she’d come to realize he was the egotistical, ungodly, unholy bastard the good reverend knew him to be. Familiarity breeds contempt, he reminded himself.
17
The following morning, villagers assembled on the beach to farewell their good friends, the Mamanucans, who at that moment were readying their drua for the return voyage to their island. Hosts and guests alike were highly satisfied with the outcome of the visit: the trading had been successful, old friendships had been strengthened, and new liaisons forged.
As the drua sailed away from the shore, the Mamanucans’ ratu, Lemeki, looked directly at Joeli, who was standing in the shallows. The two nodded gravely to each other. Despite their competitiveness, the respect each had for the other was obvious to all.
Nathan watched from the village as the Mamanucans sailed out of the bay, then turned his attention back to the village. He was hoping to see Susannah, but was disappointed to find she’d returned to the mission station. Nathan knew he’d be on tenterhooks until he saw her that nig
ht at the supper engagement her father had invited him to. He was looking forward to that, even if he wasn’t sure what Drake Senior was up to.
#
Later, as he wandered along the village outskirts, Nathan noticed Joeli approaching, or, more correctly, he saw his high, bright yellow hair approaching. “Bula,” he called out.
“Bula, Nathan Johnson,” Joeli responded. “You look well today, my brother.” The ratu stopped before Nathan. “Tomorrow, we collect trepang to complete our trade.”
Nathan smiled at the thought of taking delivery of his precious sea slugs. “How long do you expect that to take?”
“Few days. You have them before ship return,” he said, referring to the Rendezvous’s scheduled return.
The boom of a musket being discharged behind the village caused Nathan to jump. Joeli smiled as two more shots rang out. “My warriors practice killing.” He motioned to Nathan. “Come.”
Nathan followed Joeli to a valley behind the mission station. There, they found all the village’s able-bodied warriors assembled. Waisale was among them. As always, his pink hair set him apart from the others. The Qopa were practicing priming, firing, and reloading the muskets Nathan had supplied. Their technique had improved little since they’d fought off Rambuka’s outcasts. Muskets were going off in all directions, and the valley was already a haze of gunsmoke. No thought was being given to safety.
A warrior dropped to the ground when he saw a musket being aimed at his belly at point-blank range. Its owner was trying to load it, not aware it was already loaded. The musket suddenly discharged, its shot flying just over the head of the warrior who was now lying face-down in the dirt. The lucky warrior immediately jumped up and berated the man who had nearly killed him.
Joeli looked on with misplaced pride as he watched his warriors practice. Turning to Nathan, he was bemused to find the young American was rocking with laughter. Joeli scowled.
Realizing he risked offending Joeli, Nathan assumed a serious expression. “Their technique is wrong,” he said seriously. “They’re more likely to kill each other than their enemies if they keep doing what they’re doing.”