She sat daydreaming about Jonah’s embrace. The darkening colours formed large shapes about her. A whisper on the breeze sang a tune she knew: a faint whine that she remembered from her dreams. The sound grew till it became the same wailing noise that haunted her so many times as she woke. ‘Egirow, Egirow,’ it seemed to say. Why did the sea call out ‘angry’? And why had her birthmark begun to burn once more? She shivered and rubbed her arm, wondering if she was going crazy.
In the twilight the nearest pinnacle seemed to sway. It became the image of a woman in rags who shimmered before her, then was gone. Startled, she glanced about. The hairs on her arms and neck prickled and she could feel her heart thudding against her chest. Now she wasn’t only hearing things, she was seeing things too—another ghost. Was she really going crazy? Crazy like Riki. He could see ghosts. Surely it was only her eyes fooling her in the fading light.
Around her the dusk had vanished and she was suddenly aware of the darkness. Lily jumped up from the sand and walked back to the clearing, past the tennis courts, then down the steps that led to the hotel carpark. She hovered at the base of the steps for a moment, gauging how far off the next headlights were as they swung into the hotel driveway. Satisfied she could make it, she dashed into the garden at the side of the carpark. She sank into the protection of the greenery as the headlights flooded the garden around her. She dared not look but she could tell by the voices shouting above the engine that the car was full of drunken men. The engine was cut and the lights died. Car doors opened and slammed shut. There was a huge eruption of guffawing and a thud against the body of the car.
‘Stand up, ya bastard. I can’t carry you to the bar,’ someone said.
‘You go, I’ll be there soon,’ said another voice.
Lily heard the scuffing of the men’s thongs as they walked heavily towards the hotel. Then she heard another sound: the heavy breathing of a man approaching. She stiffened, trying not to breathe. He was so close she could smell his beer breath and sweat. Did he know she was there, hunched over in the bushes, too frightened even to look?
Lily heard the sprinkle on the leaves before she felt the warm wet spray hit her legs. She wanted to cry out in anger, but she just knelt there, huddled in the bushes, paralysed, and did nothing.
Always do nothing! What’s wrong with you girl? She felt the indignity of it all churn inside her but she did nothing except hold her breath and wait.
As soon as the drunk had staggered off towards the hotel Lily got to her feet and ran on through the garden, across the driveway and down over the embankment to the sea. She strode into the waves as they swept up the beach, hoping the salt water would wash away her disgust. Stupid arseholes, stupid bastards, she thought. They’ll get it one day.
Back at the house, she could tell from the darkness of the building, the muted sounds and the flickering light from the DVD player, that she had to be wary. And all those cars and bikes were in the driveway. The house was full of men.
She edged up to the side of the building, held her breath and peeked through the crack in the curtain. She could just make out the scene inside the darkened room where several boys lay on their stomachs with their eyes fixed on the screen. One was Cyrus, others were young kids from around Anbwido, some as young as five years old.
The movie flashed to a new camera angle. Every DVD seemed to show the same white sluts. Always heaps of white sluts, they must love it. One slut with two or three guys, pump, pump, pump. Lily felt the pit of her abdomen tickle with fascination. Repulsed by her reaction, she forced her eyes away to inspect the audience again.
It was hard to see the entire room through her spy hole. Rongo and Joachim were there sipping beers, and Mitchell, one of Decima’s older brothers, sat on the floor. ‘Give me a smoke,’ came Eldon’s voice, directly below Lily’s peeping hole.
She moved back with a start then tiptoed away from the house, just as laughter rang out from inside.
Dazed and miserable, Lily walked back to the beach. Where now? Where tonight? She stumbled onto the sand, kicking an empty corned beef can into the blackness of the reef. Its clatter was drowned out by the roll of the waves. Take it away, sea, take all the rubbish away. She wished it would take her rubbish family away.
The pillbox would be empty; she could go and wait there. Then she remembered the ghost and hesitated, looking back to the house. The boys would soon disperse, especially when they heard Lorelei arriving home after bingo. Still, the threat at home from Eldon was real and maybe the ghost wasn’t. Perhaps it was just a one-off thing that would disappear. Eldon wouldn’t fade. He never went away. She started walking to the pillbox.
She saw the concrete dome, pale in the night, as she rounded the bend of the beach. Bushes and tall grass screened it from the road.
Leaning against the pillbox she felt the radiant warmth of the concrete. She hauled herself up and perched on the roof, hugging her knees to her chest. Here there was peace. The smell of urine and rotting sea life was all around her, but it wasn’t foul enough to make her turn back. Nothing would make her go home now to drunken men and X-rated movies.
As she listened to her breath and the sound of the waves she lay back on the concrete and let the trapped warmth seep into her spine. She could hear the boom, boom, boom of old Landrovers passing on the road. Their lights caught the scrub beside her and voices screeched over the heavy thud of the bass.
The sky was indigo like the eye of a tuna and the stars were small white points. Lily gazed into the night, smiling to herself with the memory of Jonah’s kiss, the warmth of his hands, the taste of his lips.
A light blinked in the sky just where her eyes were focused; a plane must be coming in. The blinking alternated red and white, and the intensity grew. As Lily watched the lights, a gust chilled her skin. The cold chased away her warm memories. She shivered. A prickling fear grew in her gut. She sensed someone watching her. Startled, she turned and saw a figure standing beside the pillbox. It was the yani, the ghost of the marine.
‘Suh!’ she shouted and sprang up, terrified he would touch her. She scrambled to her feet and instantly felt the energy drain from her body.
‘Go away! Leave me!’ she screamed.
The yani came no closer. He stood and mouthed at her. Mouthed what Lily thought must have been orders. That’s what they did in the war, they shouted orders at people. That’s what Riki had said.
She sucked in her breath, felt the chilled air fill her lungs. She had to be brave, she had to do something. ‘What do you want?’ she shouted.
The yani motioned at her roughly with his right hand in a fist, holding it above his head as if he were punching the air in victory, but his face was grim and furious.
Lily inched away, aware that in some way he was threatening her, but as she moved the image faded and the breeze dropped. She was alone again on the pillbox and the roar of the descending jet overhead rumbled her bones.
She breathed deeply, feeling her heart thump. She clutched at her stained hand. It was burning again, a fierce tingling sensation. Why did it hurt each time she saw the ghost? Riki had said her birthmark was special, but right now she feared it and she feared what was happening to her. This must be how it is when you go crazy, she thought. And why was a ghost from World War Two haunting her? She had nothing to do with the war, except for finding the sword. That was it—she had a Japanese sword. It must have belonged to the yani and now he wanted it back. So he was haunting her. Well, it was hers now, and he could piss off. She wasn’t going to get rid of it.
Taking another deep breath, she tried to compose herself. The tension in her legs willed her to run away but she didn’t dare go back home. Instead she jumped down from the pillbox and crawled into the entrance. The stink of beer and urine was overpowering. Gingerly she felt about in the dark for a place to hide. She pushed aside a few rocks and lay with her head in the entrance, her body just inside. As she tried to sleep her mind filled with visions of ghosts and Eldon. She sniffed away her fears. T
he yani might come back, but at least Eldon would never find her here.
nineteen
Yamek District
18 April 1943
Tepu was troubled. Night had come and Tarema still hadn’t made it home. Should he look for him, or wait a bit longer?
Although she’d said nothing, there was foreboding in his mother’s eyes. She was so drained of vigour that anxiety was an emotion she no longer expressed. It took too much energy.
They’d just finished eating a meagre meal, a small rat Tarema had caught early in the day, when they heard footsteps.
‘You there, Tepu?’ called a young Gilbertese man from the path beside the lean-to.
Tepu rose and greeted him. It was another worker, a youth about the same age as Tepu.
‘I’m sorry, friend, to bring bad news. Come quickly, they’ve caught Tarema and another boy. You must help me bring them home.’
Anbwido
Thursday 1 July 2004
The black ribbon of bitumen ran beneath her wheels. Lorelei had to concentrate hard to keep the scooter from wobbling, especially once she’d geared down. She bumped her way over the kerb into the driveway filled with motorbikes and cars, all belonging to Rongo’s friends. If it was a party, they weren’t making much noise and the house was dark except for the kitchen light at the back. They probably had a porno showing again. The dumb bastards thought she was at bingo and wouldn’t be home until midnight, but she’d been at the casino instead and had run out of money early. It was only ten-thirty. She looked forward to the shock they’d get.
She cut the engine and propped the scooter, nearly tipping sideways herself as she moved towards the house as quietly as possible. They were so stupid if they thought they could hide it from her. She’d show ’em.
As she reached the corner of the building the house suddenly came alive with activity. The light in the lounge flicked on, Joachim called for players for a hand of Chinese poker and someone opened the fridge door. Shit, she wasn’t quick enough.
She peered in through the fly-screen door and saw Rongo with an armful of beer cans.
‘Where is it?’ she hissed at him, trying to keep her voice down.
‘What, Mum?’
‘Where’s the movie you’ve been watching?’
‘Why, you want to watch it? It’s just that footy one Dad had.’
She pushed the screen door open and it hit against the wall with a clack. ‘You lie, I know what you’ve been watching, you shit.’ She narrowed her eyes at him and her top lip curled in anger.
Rongo shrugged his shoulders. He looked hurt and wide-eyed, just like he had when he was a little boy, and she knew then that he was lying, but he was too big for her to hit now.
‘True, Mum, you go ask the boys.’
She barged in and snatched herself a beer.
‘Hey Lorelei, where you been?’ Joachim called from the table in the lounge room. ‘Come and play, we need one more.’
She snorted, but strode over to the spare chair anyway, cracked open her beer and fell into the chair. Who cared about the movie? Now she had a chance to win something, unlike with the poker machines.
‘Where’s Lil?’ she asked Rongo.
‘I think she’s sleeping,’ he said, nodding towards his sister’s room.
Joachim’s small fat hands shuffled the cards in a blur and he slammed the pack down in front of Lorelei for her to cut.
She cut as she drank from her beer and eyed the dozen boys sitting idly on the floor. ‘Put some music on, boys,’ she shouted at them, spraying half a mouthful of beer.
They moved instantly. Some disappeared out the kitchen door while Cyrus and three others busied themselves about the tape recorder on the floor.
Lorelei smiled. Even though Rongo, and now Lily, weren’t frightened of her, she could still make the smaller ones quake. As Joachim dealt the cards she wiped the spittle from her chin, then picked up her cards and sorted them according to suit.
The boys on the floor got the music going: a country and western tune with a tortured American twang rang clear into the night.
‘My D – I – V – O – R – C – E becomes final today…’ ‘Stop stuffing with the volume, you kids. I like this one, turn it up!’ She looked at her hand of cards and her competitive instinct was triggered. The night became a drift of clubs and diamonds, straights and full houses, while the stench of beer and cigarette smoke filled the house and every pore of her body.
It was after four in the morning by the time Rongo’s friends left, all except Joachim who had fallen asleep on the lounge room mat.
Lorelei staggered past Lily’s room and saw the door was ajar. She leant in the doorway and turned on the light. No one was there. The mattress hadn’t even been put down and her mat was still rolled in the corner. Where was she, the bitch? There was no Decima to stay with now. Where the hell was she? Out screwing half the boys on the island, no doubt. Out screwing that runty little busted-faced Gilbertese thief. Shit! A rage built inside her as she imagined the worst.
‘Trut!’ she screamed and shoved the propped mattress in her fury. It wobbled and flopped to the ground revealing a rectangular shape against the wall.
Lorelei caught her breath and teetered at the door, her eyes struggling to focus. Then it was clear, it was a DVD— probably the one she’d been searching for. She reached in and picked it up. There was no label. She was certain it was the porno. And with a pang of guilt she was certain of something else too: she knew why her daughter hadn’t wanted to come home to sleep.
twenty
Baringa Bay
18 April 1943
The youth led Tepu south through the forest. Not far from the path leading up to the Baringa Bay bunker two coconut trees stood in a clearing. Tepu saw a dark shape huddled at the base of each one.
‘He’s over there,’ the youth said, pointing to the furthest tree.
Tepu ran and whispered to the slumped figure of his brother. ‘I’m here now, I’ll take you home.’ But no answer came except the soft gurgle and rattle of Tarema’s breath. He shook him gently, but still there was no response. Tepu took a deep breath to quell his rage. The smell of blood and urine filled his senses, forcing bile into his mouth. He fought back the urge to vomit.
‘Hurry, Tepu!’ the youth called from the other side of the clearing, ‘the patrols will come again soon.’
Tepu fumbled in the dark and felt the ropes that bound Tarema to the tree. He sawed at them with his knife until they broke. Tarema pitched forward into the sand. Tepu lifted him over his shoulder then staggered to his feet. The marines would pay for this, he swore. There would be blood for blood.
Anbwido
Friday 2 July 2004
Hector made his way up the Witch Track behind Lotus Restaurant. An idea had been troubling him for days, growing in his mind until it was all he thought about. If the sword was half buried in the bush where they’d caught the chicken, what else was up there? Would there be other treasures, other things from the war?
Hector tipped the last drops of a soft drink into his mouth, then tossed his can away into the bushes. He was prepared this time. He’d brought with him one of his longer whittled sticks, sturdy enough to use as a walking stick or to dig with if needed.
Maybe he’d find another bottle. Ibu had liked the bottle, even though it wasn’t a weapon. He said it could whisper a story to him if he listened hard enough. That’s because bottles had mouths, the old man reasoned, and the drinkers were telling a few stories at the time they drank.
Hector laughed. Imagine if it were true—what would they say, all the crushed VB cans that covered the surface of the island? Or even the can he’d just tossed.
After about five minutes walk he reached the site where they’d found the sword. Dead leaves had already covered the disturbed ground and Hector realised that if he’d left it for another week he would have had trouble finding it again.
He cleared away the leaves with his stick, then dug deeply in the black soil.
Small black hopping bugs and tiny crawling insects writhed in the wet humus, desperate for the cover of rotting leaves. He pushed them aside with his free hand and continued to dig around with the stick, exposing white coral shards amongst the black soil and then the grey sand of the deeper layers.
There was nothing but the earth and Hector felt cheated. He was so sure he would find something else. ‘Bastard!’ he shouted, getting to his feet and flinging his stick into the air. It flew into the scrub behind him and lodged high in the tangle of tree hibiscus that formed a kind of hedge.
Ngaitirre! That was a good stick, he cursed. He shook each of the hibiscus trunks in turn, trying to shift it. Finally it dropped down, but fell on the other side of the hedge. He forced his way between two trunks and bent down to grab it. But in that moment he saw the rounded shape of an eye socket and a smooth skull. Although dark grey and partly buried, it was definitely human.
‘Ey!’ he shouted, leaping back from the hedge. His breath stuck in his throat. He looked about in terror, expecting a skeleton to jump out from the trees around him, but the forest was still in the dappled light. He gulped back his fear and pushed into the hedge once more. This time he saw that the skull lay at the foot of two pinnacles, completely hidden by the hedge of tree hibiscus. The soil about it had been disturbed by the busy claws of wild chickens and Hector noted that, even though only a small section of the upper jaw was visible, a few teeth remained.
He picked up his stick and backed away, unable to take his gaze from the gaping eye. He stumbled over the earth he’d disturbed. It had only been a few steps, so close that Hector realised it was probably the sword’s owner he’d found.
He shuddered, thinking of the sword and how Lily had been haunted. Would the ghost come after him now? His chest burst with adrenaline and before he even realised it, he was racing through the forest back to the Witch Track.
The Birthmark Page 13