by Mike Resnick
“Howdy, Brother,” I greeted him. “The Right Reverend Lucifer Jones at your service. What’s the quickest route back to civilization?”
He jabbered something I couldn’t understand, and kept looking back the way he had come, so I figured he was telling me he’d just been to the big city and hadn’t found it all that congenial to a guy who was inclined to wander around stark naked and had a tendency to shrink the local citizenry’s heads. I thanked him for pointing it out to me and started marching off, but he grabbed my arm and began jabbering again, more urgently this time.
“I can appreciate your distaste for the vices of city life,” I said. “But if I’m going to save folks from the wages of sin, I got to go to where all the sinning gets itself done.”
He began screaming and pointing to where he’d been and pulling me in the direction he was going.
“I’m touched by your concern, Brother,” I told him. “But there ain’t no need for you to worry. The Lord is my shepherd. Him and me’ll get along fine, once we get out of this here jungle.”
He just stared at me for a minute, and then took off like a bat out of hell, and it belatedly occurred to me that probably he and one of the local young ladies and maybe her parents had totally different notions of what constituted a bonafide proposal of marriage.
I started walking, dead certain that I’d be stumbling across a city any minute, but not much happened except that I finally caught sight of the Amazon, or at least one of its tributaries. I tried to remember if sharks hung out in rivers, but in the end I was so thirsty I didn’t much care, so I wandered over to the water’s edge, knelt down, and took a long swallow, and except for some waterbugs and a couple of tadpoles and a minnow or two it didn’t taste all that bad.
Then I looked up, and strike me dead if I didn’t see a city after all. It wasn’t much of a city, just ten or twelve buildings on an island in the middle of the river about half a mile downstream, but after all that time in the bush it was city enough for me, and I moseyed over until I was standing on the bank just opposite it. I was about to swim across to it when I saw an alligator with a lean and hungry look cruising the surface between me and the island, and decided to just keep on walking until I came to a city, or even a suburb, on my side of the river, but then I saw an old beat-up boat tied on the shore, so I borrowed it and rowed across to the island.
As I was pulling the boat out of the water I heard a noise behind me, and when I turned to see what had caused it I found a great big dog watching me curiously. He looked friendly enough, so I reached out to pet him.
“You touch me, Gringo, and I’ll bite your hand off,” he said.
I jumped back real sudden-like.
“What are you staring at?” he continued. “Haven’t you ever seen a dog before?”
“Man and boy, I seen a lot of dogs,” I told him, “but up until this minute I ain’t never had a conversation with one.” I looked around. “Are there a lot of you?”
The dog kind of frowned. “How many of me do you see?”
“I mean, are there a lot of talking dogs in these here parts?”
“I hardly see that that’s any of your business,” said the dog. “What are you doing on this island?”
“Right at the moment I’m wondering what my chances are of getting back off it real quick,” I said truthfully. “I don’t want to upset you none, but I find that talking dogs put me off my feed.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” said the dog. “I think I’d better take you to the doctor.”
“I don’t need no doctor,” I said. “I feel as fit as a bull moose.”
“I resent that,” said a low voice behind me, and when I turned to see who’d said it, sure enough I was facing a moose with beady little eyes and a huge spread of antlers. “Now go along with Ramon before I lose my temper.”
“You’re Ramon?” I asked the dog.
“Have you got a problem with that?” said the dog, baring his teeth.
“Not a bit,” I said quickly. “Ramon is my very favorite name.”
“Come along with us, Miguel,” said Ramon to the moose. “Just in case he tries to escape.”
“Miguel is my favorite name too,” I said as the moose joined us.
“What do you think of Felicity?” said a feminine voice that seemed to have a little more timber to it than most.
I looked off to my left and found myself facing about five tons worth of elephant.
“You’re Felicity?” I asked.
“I am,” replied the elephant.
“I think it’s a name of rare gossamer gaiety,” I said. “I’ve fallen eternally in love with maybe thirty women in my life, and five or six of ’em was named Felicity.” Then a thought occurred to me, and I said, “Just what kind of animal is this here doctor you’re taking me to?”
“He’s a man, the same as you,” said Felicity.
“He’s a man, anyway,” muttered Ramon.
“Before we go any farther,” said Felicity, “you must promise not to harm him.”
“He must be a nice man to have such loving, devoted pets,” I remarked.
“He is a fiend!” growled Ramon.
“A monster!” said Felicity.
“And we are not his pets,” added Miguel bitterly.
“Well, he must at least be one hell of an animal trainer,” I said. “After all, he taught you to speak.”
“He most certainly did not!” said Felicity.
“You all just learned spontaneously?” I asked.
“I’m sure the doctor will explain it to you,” said Miguel.
“Just keep out of his laboratory,” said Felicity.
“I take it he don’t like visitors messing with his equipment?” I said.
“I have no idea,” said Felicity. “Just keep out of it — and don’t accept any food or drink from him unless he partakes of it first.”
“And remember,” said Miguel, “he is not to be harmed.”
“I’m a little confused here,” I admitted. “You say this doctor is a fiend and a monster and I shouldn’t eat or drink nothing he offers, and at the same time you seem dead set against anyone hurting him.”
“That’s right,” said Ramon.
“And you don’t see no inconsistency in that position?” I asked.
“After you talk to him everything will become clear.”
We walked for a few minutes and began approaching one of the buildings. A couple of chimpanzees wandered over and introduced themselves, and overhead a bald eagle swooped down and told me that if I so much as touched the doctor he’d peck my eyes out, and then one of the chimps warned me not to drink anything, and I began thinking that if the next thing I saw was a white rabbit checking his watch I’d feel mighty relieved and start trying to wake up, but I didn’t see no more animals and pretty soon we were at the door. One of the chimps knocked on it, and then they all stood back and waited for it to open, and when it did I found myself facing a small, pudgy man with thinning white hair, steel-rimmed spectacles, and three or four chins, depending on which way he held his head.
He looked me up and down and finally kind of grimaced.
“You’re not at all what I was expecting,” he said at last.
“I hear that a lot, though usually from disgruntled women,” I said.
“You simply don’t look like the killer of twenty-eight men, women and children,” he continued, staring at me. “Still, appearances can be deceiving, which is our guiding motto here.”
“I don’t want to put a damper on your enthusiasm,” I said, “but I ain’t never killed anyone.”
“You’re not Juan Pedro Vasquez?” he said.
“I’m the Right Reverend Honorable Doctor Lucifer Jones,” I told him.
“What are you doing on my island?”
“Well, for the past hour or so I’ve mostly been concentrating on being lost,” I admitted.
“Then you shall be an honored visitor,” he said. “Come right in.”
He kind
of pulled me in by the arm and shut the door behind me before I could decide whether or not to make a dash for the river.
“May I offer you a drink?” he asked, leading me to the living room, which had a dozen diplomas on the wall instead of the usual animal heads and tasteful paintings of naked ladies striking friendly poses.
“That’s right generous of you,” I said, “but I ain’t thirsty just now.”
“You’ve been listening to the animals,” he said knowingly. “Don’t worry, Doctor Jones. The drink is perfectly safe. You must not pay attention to a bunch of felons.”
“I ain’t been talking to no felons, present company possibly excepted,” I said. “Just a bunch of the strangest animals I’ve ever run into.”
He walked to a cabinet, pulled out a bottle, and poured two glasses. He took a swallow from one and then handed it to me.
“Will that assuage your fears?” he said.
“Well, under these circumstances, I suppose I can overcome my natural aversion to liquid,” I allowed, downing the rest of the glass and holding it out for a refill. As he poured it, I asked him if he had any serious intention of telling me just what felons he thought I’d been talking to.
“Ramon and Felicity and the others,” he said.
“I don’t want to seem to ignorant,” I said, “but just what kind of felony can an elephant commit on an island in the middle of the jungle?”
“I shall be happy to explain it all to you, Doctor Jones,” he said, sitting down on a big leather chair. “Let me begin by asking if you are acquainted with the work of Doctor Septimus Mirbeau, who is unquestionably the world’s most brilliant doctor and scientist?”
“Sounds like an interesting guy,” I said. “I’d sure like to run into him someday.”
“You’re talking to him,” he said. “Can it be that you’ve really never heard of me?”
“Not unless you played third base for the St. Louis Browns about fifteen years ago,” I replied.
His face fell. “That’s the price of genius. I have to work in obscurity until I can announce my findings to the world.”
“Well, you can’t get much more obscure than a nameless island in the middle of the Amazon,” I said.
“It has a name,” replied Doctor Mirbeau. “I call it the Island of Lost Souls.”
“As far as I can tell, the only soul what’s lost around here is me,” I said.
“The name is a poetic metaphor,” he said, lighting up a big cigar. “If I was being literal, I would call it the Island of Lost Bodies.”
“It strikes me as a pretty small island to misplace a whole graveyard,” I said.
He smiled. I’m sure he meant it to be a tolerant, fatherly smile, but it came across as something out of one of them movies what got people called Bela and Boris and a lot of other names beginning with a B acting in ’em.
“The bodies are still here, Doctor Jones,” he assured me.
“You just forgot where?”
“You have just been in their company.”
“That’s funny,” I said. “I didn’t notice nothing except a bunch of animals with an unlikely way of expressing themselves.”
“That was them.”
“I know the vertical rays of the tropical sun can have a funny effect on some folk,” I allowed, “but I’m pretty sure those were animals and not men.”
“They are animals who used to be men!” he said triumphantly.
“Now why in the world would a normal woman want to turn into a lady elephant?” I said. “Unless of course you’re the only man on the island, and there are a mess of good-looking male elephants out there that I ain’t encountered yet.”
“I have learned how to surgically transform men and women into animals,” he said. “Didn’t you think it was peculiar that a moose and an elephant could converse with you?”
“Not as peculiar as a doctor who claims they used to be a man and a woman called Miguel and Felicity,” I said.
“But they were!” he insisted. “This has been my life’s work! I am only a few years from going public with it. There won’t be enough Nobel Prizes to honor me. They’ll have to create a newer, more prestigious award.”
“Just how private can it be even now?” I said. “Some hospital or college must know about your work, or you couldn’t have gotten funding for all this.”
“My funding comes from my patients, who pay me to transform them,” said Doctor Mirbeau.
“I don’t want to seem unduly skeptical,” I said, “buy why in tarnation would a bunch of perfectly normal human beings pay good money to be turned into animals?”
“Because every last one of them is a wanted criminal,” he answered. “What better way to avoid detection than to become an animal?”
Well, I could think of a lot of better ways, or at least less painful ones, but I didn’t want to argue with my host, especially since I had a feeling anyone who lost an argument with him was likely to be turned into a koala bear or an iguana or some such thing.
“That’s mighty interesting, Brother Mirbeau,” I said at last, “and I sure wish you the best of luck with all your Nobel Prizes, but now that we’ve had a friendly visit and I’ve drunk my fill, I think it’s time I was on my way, if you’ll just point me toward the nearest city.”
“I’m afraid I can’t let you leave the island, Doctor Jones,” he said.
“Why not?” I said.
“You might reveal what I’m doing here before I’m ready to tell the world.”
“I give you my solemn word as a man of the cloth who ain’t never told a lie in his whole blameless life that I wouldn’t even think of doing such a thing,” I said. “Besides, if I did, they’d probably just lock me up in the drunk tank.”
“I can’t take the chance,” he said. “You may have free run of the island until I’m ready.”
“Ready for what?” I asked.
“You’ll find out,” he said with a strange smile.
Suddenly it started raining, which it does a lot of in the rain forest, and pretty soon we could hardly hear ourselves over the thunder.
“You ain’t going to make a fellow white man sleep outside in this weather, are you?” I said, looking out the window.
“That was never my intention,” said Doctor Mirbeau. “I’ll have a bed prepared for you next door in the House of Agony.”
“The House of Agony?”
“That’s right,” he said.
“You know, I think the rain’s lightening up already,” I said quickly as it continued to pour. “Maybe I’ll just spend the night on the beach.”
“I won’t hear of it,” he said. “You can’t be too careful with your health.”
Those were my sentiments exactly, but no matter how much I protested, he insisted that I accept his hospitality. Finally he got up, put an arm around my shoulders, and walked me over to the front door.
“Your boat has been moved to a safe place,” he said. “You really don’t want to leave the island without it, as the water is infested with alligators.”
I couldn’t see that a river being infested with alligators was all that much worse than an island being infested with a mad scientist, but I kept my opinion to myself.
“Dinner is at eight o’clock,” he said as he opened the door for me. “Promptness is appreciated.” He stared at me. “I don’t suppose you brought a dinner jacket?”
“I could go back to San Palmero right now and get one,” I suggested hopefully.
“No,” he said. “We’ll simply have to rough it.”
“What’s on the menu?” I asked as I remembered that I hadn’t had nothing to eat all day and decided that I might as well make the best of my situation.
“Raoul,” he said.
Suddenly a handful of nuts and berries started looking mighty good to me. I walked out the door, and found Ramon, Miguel and Felicity waiting for me out there in the rain.
“I’m surprised to see you,” said Felicity. “Most men who enter the doctor’s house
never come out.”
“At least, not as men,” added Ramon.
“Do you guys mind if we walk while we’re talking?” I said, heading off into the jungle.
“What’s your rush?” asked Miguel. “It’s raining at the far end of the island too.”
“Yeah, but that’s a lot farther from the House of Agony than we are now,” I pointed out.
“True,” he agreed. “On the other hand, it’s a lot closer to the House of Pain.”
I came to a stop. “Has Doctor Mirbeau got any other houses I should know about?”
“No,” said Felicity. “But he has five others you probably shouldn’t know about.”
“If I ever get off this here island,” I vowed to nobody in particular, “the very first thing I’m going to do is never think about it again.”
“You will never leave the island,” said Ramon. “I am surprised he didn’t tell you that.”
“Well, he did kind of hint at it,” I allowed. “But I was hoping he said it with a kindly twinkle in his eye.”
“That was a cataract, and there’s nothing kindly about it,” said Miguel. “You’re stuck here.”
“I’ve run through thirty-four countries looking for the right spot to build the Tabernacle of Saint Luke,” I said. “Who’d have thunk I’d wind up having to build it here, with nothing in my flock except a bunch of godless animals?”
“I resent that!” said Felicity.
“The godless part or the animal part?” I asked.
“Both!”
“Then I apologize,” I said. “I sure don’t want no god-fearing five-ton lady mad at me.”
“Leave my weight out of this!” she snapped.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, ma’am,” I told her. “I ain’t never seen a ten-thousand-pounder, human or otherwise, what was so feminine and delicate-looking and light on her feet.”
She made a sound that was a cross between a tuba hitting M over high C and a trolly car skidding downhill on some rusty tracks.
“Now see what you’ve done?” said Miguel. “She’s crying!”