The Birthmark

by Beth Montgomery

  ‘It’s OK, Ibu will fix it,’ Hector whispered, although he had no idea how, and when he looked towards the trees his ibu had vanished.

  ‘Shit, where’s he gone?’ Christina said, switching on her torch and scanning the forest.

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Hector. Had his ibu deserted them? He struggled to control his thoughts. Of course he wouldn’t do such a thing, but Hector felt abandoned. He couldn’t bear looking at the trees where the skull lay, so he shone the torch at his feet instead. The three of them huddled together, the sword still gripped in Lily’s left hand. They were a tight knot in a small pool of light.

  Then Hector heard Riki cough somewhere nearby. Leaves rustled and branches snapped. The old man hobbled back into the clearing. Hector and Christina swung their torch beams on him.

  He looked enormous illuminated by both lights. He held two leafy branches and chewed something crunchy. Saliva dripped from his mouth. He dropped the branches at the base of the trees, then came over to Lily. He spat into his free hand. ‘Be still,’ he said, wiping the mush from his mouth down the length of her frozen arm. As he did so he chanted some strange words. Then he massaged her limb so roughly that Hector thought she would cry out, but Lily stood motionless.

  ‘Give me the sword,’ he commanded.

  Lily raised her hand, flexing her fingers. Moving with mechanical stiffness they slowly released their grip on the sword.

  Riki took it from her and placed it at the foot of the trees. Taking up the discarded branches he stood motionless for an instant then breathed deeply. Each exhalation was a loud rushing puff. He raised the branches above his head and shook them, chanting in a language Hector didn’t recognise.

  The old man shuddered and puffed as he sang, bringing down the branches in sharp brushing motions about the sword and the tree trunks, as if he were swatting at flies. Then suddenly his shoulders slumped and he placed the branches beside the sword. He turned to face Hector, Lily and Christina.

  ‘We are safe now,’ he said, ‘the anger is gone from this place. Bring the light close, boy, you must help me.’

  Hector couldn’t move. He’d never seen his ibu dance and chant like that. Was his ibu a witch? Was it true what everyone said, that his ibu was crazy? His head was spinning.

  It was Christina who nudged him forward. His feet jerked to life and carried him over to his grandfather who knelt at the base of the trees. Even though the anger had gone from this place, an unbearable cold remained that made him shake.

  ‘I…I think I can feel the air now, Ibu,’ he said.

  ‘Yes, he is here—yes, I see him,’ the old man said as he reached in through the trees. His big fingers shovelled under the skull and eased it from the ground. ‘Bring the bucket,’ he said.

  Hector retrieved the bucket, pulled out the bottle and placed them both beside the old man. He stood to move away but his ibu caught him by the arm.

  ‘Go in now, boy, go through the trees and dig around for more bones.’

  Hector froze. Not inside where the body lay—he didn’t want to do it.

  ‘Go now, you’re a small size.’

  ‘It’s OK,’ Christina said behind him, ‘Lily and I will shine the torches.’ One of the girls squeezed his shoulder, encouraging him.

  Hector took a deep breath then pushed through the screen of branches and knelt in the earth. It was damp and gritty against his legs. After five minutes and a lot of digging and prodding he found more bones, smaller ones, pieces of spine and ribs and arms. They were cold in his hands. He passed them out to his ibu who placed them all in the bucket.

  ‘No more. I think that’s all there is.’

  ‘It’s not very many,’ Christina said.

  ‘I think rats and crabs, and rain and wild pigs have been before us. That’s all there is,’ said Riki.

  ‘I want to come out now,’ Hector said.

  ‘No,’ Riki said, passing a torch through to him, ‘go into the pinnacles, bring back these things: the tin and the black stone.’

  Hector stared at his grandfather and shook his head. ‘We’ve got the bones, let’s go!’

  ‘It’s not finished yet, Hector...do as I say,’ Riki urged. Reluctantly Hector took the torch and crawled forward. There were pinnacles on either side of him and one far in front, which formed a small room of rock. He stood up and shone the torch around. The pinnacle directly opposite had a shelf carved into its surface. On it lay a metal tin covered with a smooth black stone. A tin and a stone—how did Ibu know? He picked them up and put them in his pocket. The stone was heavy and warm against his thigh.

  Hector crawled out from the bushes, pulled the objects from his pocket and gave them to his grandfather. Ibu sighed as he took the stone and let it roll across his palm before he gave it a squeeze. Then he handed it back to Hector. ‘You will need this magic now. Keep it safe,’ he said.

  Hector wondered what he meant about magic. He watched his ibu place the tin beside the sword and the bucket of bones. Then the old man picked up the bottle and took a few steps back. ‘Off the light,’ he said.

  Hector and Lily turned off the torches. The black of the forest surrounded them. ‘Shit!’ Hector jumped as Lily’s hand pawed at his shoulder. Christina stifled a nervous laugh.

  ‘Quiet!’ the old man barked. ‘Be still, he must talk.’

  They stood in silence, waiting for something to happen. Lily clutched Hector’s arm and her breath warmed his ear. Apart from her closeness and the heat of the stone in his pocket, Hector felt chilled to his bones. If it weren’t for his heart thumping in his chest he might have been snap cooled like a fish in a freezer. As Hector’s eyes adjusted to the night he heard a soft droning, a humming that must have been Ibu blowing over the neck of the bottle.

  Then a drifting haze of light formed above the place where the sword was lying. Hector gasped as he felt Lily’s fingernails dig into his arm. Behind them Christina swore softly and huddled closer. The figure of a man stood in front of them, faded and yellowy-green. He wore a small peaked cap, sandy uniform and high black boots, and he rested his hand on a long sword at his side. The handle was decorated with a row of diamond shapes. Slowly he raised the sword in front of his face and held it steady.

  Hector wanted to run, but his feet were leaden. Except for the warmth against his thigh the cold seemed to claw about him; even the girls’ radiant heat had leached away.

  ‘Where will you lie, yani egirow?’ Riki asked.

  Hector heard the word ‘Baringa’ howl about him but it was unlike any spoken voice he knew and the shrill tone lingered like the ringing of a bell.

  ‘Be at peace,’ Ibu said and at once the image bowed forward and disappeared.

  Hector tried to lift his trembling legs. ‘Can I shine the torch now?’ he said, but his voice came out as a squeak.

  ‘Yes, we go now,’ Riki said, ‘we go to Baringa to say goodbye.’

  thirty

  Anbwido Leper Colony

  12 July 1943

  Tepu had been selected to join a group of men for a task on the outskirts of Anbwido. It had surprised him, since he didn’t feel fit. He’d taken five days to recover from Egirow’s beating the week before.

  Now the marines ordered them to round up all the people at the leper colony and help carry their possessions to the reef. There would be a boat perhaps, like the ship that took their relatives away. If only Tepu could go with them, be with Edouwe and escape this torture together.

  He saw her walking in the middle of the group, holding two woven mats and a basket, no doubt the only belongings she and her grandparents had. She smiled when she saw him and found her way over to the edge of the group. She walked just in front of him with her head down.

  ‘Where are they taking us? I don’t want to leave you,’ she said, talking to her feet.

  ‘I don’t know what’s going on. Be brave,’ he whispered. The marines shouted at them to move faster and keep quiet. So they walked in silence to Baringa Bay and Tepu was filled with dread.


  Baringa Bay Channel

  Saturday 3 July 2004

  Lorelei drove home from the hospital where she’d left Eldon and Rongo. The moonlight shone over Baringa Bay making it look like a professional photograph. She yawned, then peered into the distance. There was someone at the channel. She had seen the pale yellow light, but now there was nothing. Stupid arseholes, what were people doing on the reef before dawn? Must be keen fishermen, she thought. She slowed the Landrover, cut the lights and engine and rolled to a stop in the grey predawn light. Out on the reef four figures waded a few metres out, carrying what looked like fishing tackle. But wait—she knew that walk, that silhouette—one of them was Lily.

  Lorelei rolled out of the vehicle and stomped to the channel’s edge. ‘Where do you think you’re going?’ she bellowed.

  The figures paused and turned; the one that was Lily almost ran but the bigger one grabbed her, spoke to her, then pushed her forward. She walked back through the shallows dragging something along behind her.

  ‘You’re in trouble girl, better come home now,’ Lorelei called.

  Lily marched slowly up the channel ramp and stopped a few metres short of her mother. ‘I’m not going home. I’m not going anywhere with you,’ she said.

  Lorelei felt a familiar rage build inside her. She strode towards her, ‘Come home now!’ she ordered.

  ‘You deaf? I said I’m not coming home. I’ve got something I have to do.’ She lifted the sword up in front of her eyes and held it still.

  Lorelei stopped, transfixed by the sword. So this was Lily’s weapon. She looked from Lily to the others on the reef. Had the weird old Gilbert man made her daughter crazy too?

  ‘Come on, girl. Don’t you go around with crazy people,’ she whispered, edging closer.

  ‘They’re good people, they’re my friends.’

  ‘Lily, the old man’s mad, you know that…’ ‘Don’t come any closer,’ Lily hissed, pointing the sword at Lorelei’s neck. The metal gleamed in the half-light and Lorelei saw that it didn’t shake; Lily’s grip was firm.

  Lorelei paused, wondering how to distract her daughter or calm her down. ‘Eh, what you doing? Put it down, Lil. Don’t be stupid,’ she said, backing off.

  ‘I’m not stupid. You touch me and I’ll cut you.’

  Lorelei struggled for the right words. How was she to convince the stupid bitch to come home? How was she going to get her to put down that sword? ‘Lily, you’re already in trouble, what you did to Eldon and having that boy at the house. Don’t make it worse.’

  ‘It already is worse. What you did to me, what he did to me.’

  ‘What about what you’ve done to Eldon? I’ve just left the hospital. He’s lost three fingers, you bitch,’ Lorelei screamed at her.

  Lily pushed forward, her eyes wild and bulging. She pressed the sword up against Lorelei’s throat and leered into her mother’s face.

  ‘Good, then he won’t touch me again!’ she said.

  The words echoed in Lorelei’s head. ‘What do you mean, girl?’

  ‘I mean, what happens in that house. Don’t you know?’

  Lorelei opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

  ‘No—no you don’t because you’re never home. You’re never there to protect me. So I do it myself now—see. And no bastard uncle’s going to push his way in and force me ever again.’

  ‘What are you saying?’ Lorelei asked, her voice trembling as she inched backwards. Did she mean Eldon? No, it wasn’t possible. Lorelei thudded against the Landrover. One of her elbows banged against the door. She winced from the pain and looked about. There was no escape. The sword, cold against her neck, pinned her to the vehicle. She looked into her daughter’s face, searching for sympathy or pity but in the pale light saw only a curled top lip—just like her own. As she realised their sameness something burst in her mind, and a knot of doubt and mistrust about her younger brother unravelled. Her confidence shrivelled. She cowered as Lily, furious and strong, loomed over her.

  ‘Eldon?’ Lorelei whispered.

  ‘Arsehole Eldon,’ Lily said, spitting the words out.

  Lorelei sniffed and her eyes began to twitch. How could he, her own brother. ‘No, what are you saying? Stop lying!’

  Lily jerked forward, pressing the sword deeper against her mother’s throat. ‘I’m not lying, you stupid witch, it’s true! You don’t care about what happens to me, do you?’

  ‘No!’ Lorelei gasped. Her head throbbed with panic as she tried to find soothing words. ‘I worry when you’re out at night. It’s not safe.’

  ‘Safe! It’s not safe in my own house. I’m not safe with you or Eldon,’ Lily said, snarling. ‘How do you think it feels, to be forced?’

  Lorelei swallowed hard against the pressing blade. Memories flooded her brain: the fear, the shame, the self-loathing, the hatred and the honey-skinned baby born with a guilty smear. ‘Don’t tell me,’ she whispered, ‘I already know it. How do you think you were conceived?’

  thirty-one

  Baringa Bay

  12 July 1943

  The lepers and their carers placed all their belongings in a pile on the beach and lined up on the reef as the marines instructed. Then the marines told Tepu and the other men to line up behind them.

  Egirow pointed out to sea. Just off the reef a small boat rocked in the waves. Tepu knew at once what was about to happen. The Japs would send them all away, off in a small leaky boat that had no hope of floating much longer than a few days. They would reach nowhere. They would all die of starvation or exposure, or they’d drown and be the ready meal for dozens of sharks.

  So this is our end, Tepu thought. Behind him was instant death: a line of Japanese with rifles pointed and bayonets fixed. Out to sea was slow death in the ocean.

  Baringa Bay Channel

  Saturday 3 July 2004

  There was a lull between the crashing waves. For a moment Lily stared into her mother’s eyes. Tears washed the brown pupils. Red spider webs of veins within the white were more vivid than she’d ever seen them. In those eyes she saw years of suffering, self-hatred and coldness. As the surf broke against the reef once more, Lily’s sympathy vanished.

  ‘Who was it?’ she rasped.

  ‘A white man, an Australian—like your friend,’ she gestured towards the reef where Christina stood.

  ‘That’s why you don’t like her…and that’s why you hate me,’ she whispered. Then the enormity of it hit her.

  ‘Shit!’ she screamed, shoving her mother aside. The blow knocked Lorelei over onto the road. She sprawled on the bitumen, her fat legs kicking in the air.

  Lily plunged the sword into the bushes beside the Landrover. She wailed and bellowed, hacking at the greenery, sending clumps of vegetation flying. The momentum of her swings echoed the heaving of her chest. ‘Ngaitirre! Arseholes!’ she screamed her anger into the dawn. Scream it, shout it, bash it, cut it—but don’t cry girl, you mustn’t cry girl, she told herself. But she couldn’t stop the flow of tears.

  Gradually her shouts became moans and the wild hacking slowed. Her shoulders ached from the spent tension. Her throat burnt. She looked around self-consciously.

  Lorelei struggled to stand. She didn’t seem so threatening now with her shirt all bunched up and her hair falling untidily from her bun. She waddled to the Landrover, sniffed and wiped at her face as she pulled herself in behind the wheel, staring at her daughter. ‘Come home when you’re ready,’ she said shakily.

  Lily couldn’t answer. Her throat was too dry and she didn’t know the words to say. She turned to the reef where Hector, Christina and Riki waited. The sky beyond them was a soft grey and the tide was going out. She strode down the ramp towards them. She had done what the old man told her. ‘Don’t run away,’ he’d said to her. ‘Use the courage you have—not the sword. Don’t let it poison you again.’ Even though Lorelei’s words left her feeling empty and cheated, as if some huge wedge of her life had been cut away, she now understood the brokenness of her moth
er. She no longer feared her.

  ‘Quick, Lil, the sun’s nearly up,’ Hector called from the shallows.

  She waded through the puddles on the reef and felt the warm water wash over her feet.

  ‘You must hurry, girl. Take the sword to the edge of the reef before the sun clears the water. Then do what your heart tells you,’ Riki said.

  Lily didn’t understand what he meant, but the old man was calm and his eyes reassured her.

  ‘We will follow behind,’ he said.

  She waded deeper into the water, careful not to stumble in the cracks and rockpools of the reef. When she reckoned she was only a metre or so from the edge she stopped and braced herself against the waves as they crashed through at knee height.

  Out to sea the sun emerged and cast a white glow on the waves. The glare stung her eyes and she blinked, struggling to focus. Only twenty metres out, she saw an old wooden boat materialise on the water. It rocked and lolled on the black sea, rocking and lolling her memory back.

  It was the same boat—the same boat she strove to swim to and never reached. The same boat she was desperate to escape to, away from Eldon, away from herself. Her memory told her to jump into the water, but she knew she would sink. Her heart told her to run, run away from her fear. She tried to shout but her voice was only a croak. She shuddered and a chill crept over her.

  Terrified, she turned to her friends. They were only a few paces behind her, but as she looked at them their features blurred. Hector and Christina became indistinct like shimmers of sunlight on sea spray, but Riki stood straighter and his age fell away.

  His skin was tight and gleamed with oil. He had transformed before her eyes into a tall Gilbertese youth. As she looked at him with both fear and recognition she realised he was not alone. About a dozen ghostly ragged men formed a line along the reef cutting off her retreat back to the beach. Beyond them were pairs of Japanese marines, advancing slowly with rifles pointed in her direction, and with them stood the yani in his black boots with his sword raised, shouting orders.