by Cowley, Joy
Jonasi smiled and put his finger on the car, that strange land canoe that moved without paddle or sail.
With a black pencil, Aesake wrote four letters across the bottom of the photograph – SEVU – and then he started from the beginning, using the butt of the pencil to scratch in the dust. He drew the government man’s launch, and three people at the bow, and in front of them an arrow pointing to the photograph. He looked at Jonasi.
Yes, yes, the boy understood. He stretched his arm over Aesake’s head towards the beach.
Aesake added four figures to the launch. Jonasi frowned.
‘That’s you.’ Aesake pointed to one figure and then to Jonasi. ‘That’s me. There’s Samu. And there’s Luisa.’
But the Silent One only stared at him, puzzled.
Aesake thought for a minute, then called into the bure, ‘Luisa, will you help us?’
‘What is it?’ The old woman came out.
‘Just stay there,’ said Aesake. ‘Now – ’ He underlined the four people on the launch, stood up, and made a wide sweep with his hand.
The cloud passed from Jonasi’s face, and his eyes widened. His open mouth trembled as he made rapid gestures – Aesake, Luisa, Samu, himself, the boat and the photograph.
‘Yes, yes, that’s it!’ Samu leaped to his feet and danced around the boy. ‘He knows! Look at him, he understands!’
‘Does he know we’re coming back without him?’ said Luisa.
Aesake glanced at the grinning Jonasi. ‘No,’ he said. ‘We can’t explain that.’ He reached for the other thing he’d brought from his trunk, a small reed mat folded and tied around a shirt he’d worn at the mission school. He untied the parcel, then shook out the contents. It was a white shirt, creased and mildew spotted, frayed at the collar, and with only one button left on it. But it was the best he had to offer. He gave it to Jonasi and helped him put it on.
Luisa smiled with pleasure. ‘Ah, you are kind, Aesake,’ she said. ‘How good that he has you for a friend.’
Jonasi was delighted with the gift. He paraded before them, turning in circles, flapping the long sleeves like wings. He’d never worn a shirt before.
Aesake whispered to Samu. ‘Stay beside him, will you? I’m going to see my father and the government man.’
Aesake’s concern for Jonasi was now confined to the few hours left before the boat removed the boy from danger. He expected to stay with Jonasi for the rest of the afternoon, but when he reached his father’s bure, he learnt that the Englishman was ready to leave at once.
‘I’ve finished here,’ he said.
‘What about the tide?’ said Aesake. ‘It’s only just turned, and with four extra people on board – ’
The Redbeard dismissed the warning with a flick of his hand. ‘My boys’ll see us over the reef, don’t worry about that. I want to get to Sevu before nightfall. No sense hanging around here, waiting for a full tide. Is your party ready?’
‘Yes.’ Aesake nodded.
‘Good. Get them down to the beach right away.’
‘Wait a minute,’ said Taruga Vueti. ‘Aesake, does the boy know where he’s going?’
‘He knows about Sevu, Father,’ said Aesake. ‘I think he imagines it’s a short trip to see the sights of the city.’
‘Now look here’ – the Englishman was rubbing his hand over his beard – ‘you’re not trying to put one across me, are you, Vueti? Why are you so anxious to get rid of the boy? Are you sure he hasn’t got leprosy or some infectious disease?’
‘I gave you my word,’ said Vueti. ‘The boy cannot hear or speak, and it’s no disease. He was born with silence.’
‘Then why is it these people won’t touch him with a barge pole?’
‘I have explained all that,’ said the chief. ‘It’s because he is different.’
‘All right, then, but you’d better be telling the truth. If I take a case of leprosy or typhoid into Sevu, there’ll be all hell to pay.’
Aesake glanced at his father’s face, saw the narrowed eyes, the tightened mouth, and said quickly, ‘Father, if I may leave now – I’ll tell them to wait on the beach.’
‘Yes, do that,’ said his father.
The Redbeard shifted his bag to the left hand and held out his right. ‘Goodbye for the present, Vueti. I’ll see you in a couple of weeks when the supplies are through. Don’t worry. I’ll attend to this village myself, and I give you my word, here and now, your people won’t starve.’
‘You’ll see the boy has a safe passage?’ said the chief.
‘I guarantee it. And your son and the other two – ’
Aesake heard no more. He ran swiftly back and herded the startled Luisa, Samu, and Jonasi down to the dinghy.
Luisa fussed because she didn’t have time to finish her packing. ‘What about the presents for my daughter? I can’t go with empty hands? And what do we eat tonight, eh?’
There was no time for argument. The Englishman and his assistant were coming down the beach, followed by Taruga Vueti. Aesake stood by, ready to help drag the dinghy down to the water’s edge.
How quiet it all was, he thought. No one from the village had come out to bid them farewell, although he knew they’d been watched. The strip of coral sand was deserted. Ragged palms rested their heads against a grey sky, and the sea was so flat that the boat seemed anchored to its own reflection. There were no canoes. No child played at the edge of the water. The women who usually gathered shells at low tide were all in their bures.
But at least Jonasi was without care. He was too excited to stand still. He strutted about like a young rooster, his chest so far out that the single button on his shirt threatened to come off.
It’s just an old shirt, Aesake thought. If I’d known he’d be so pleased, I’d have given it to him ages ago.
‘Come on,’ said the Redbeard, sitting in the bow of the dinghy. ‘Room for two of you, and we’ll come back for the others.’
Aesake looked at his father.
‘You and the boy first,’ said Taruga Vueti.
‘I won’t fail, Father,’ Aesake said.
‘I know that,’ said Vueti.
‘He’ll like it at the school. He’ll learn to speak.’
The chief put his hand on Aesake’s shoulder. ‘If they can’t take him, leave him in Sevu,’ he said in a low voice.
‘Are you coming, or aren’t you?’ shouted the Redbeard.
‘Goodbye, Father,’ said Aesake.
He took Jonasi’s arm, gently. Suddenly, the boy no longer seemed eager to depart. He looked around anxiously for Luisa. Aesake tried to make him understand that she would follow, but he sat stiffly in the stern, looking back at the water’s edge where the old woman waited fearfully. Taruga Vueti was already walking back to the village.
Samu, standing by Luisa’s side, waved to them. Aesake waved back. Jonasi sat unmoving, his eyes fixed on Luisa. Only when the two boys had boarded the launch and Jonasi saw the dinghy go back, did he smile again, fingering the buttonholes of his white shirt.
If they can’t take him, leave him in Sevu. Those had been the last words of Taruga Vueti to his son. Only Aesake had heard them. Aesake looked towards the railing where the old woman was being half pushed, half pulled on to the boat, Samu behind her.
What else can we do? Aesake thought.
One of the men took Luisa to the cabin where she sat meekly, awed by the unfamiliar boat. She peered about her nervously, craning her neck this way and that. She held her bundle on her lap with both hands.
‘All right, all right,’ the Englishman called to his assistants. ‘Get that anchor up and let’s move out of here. Keep her dead slow until we’re in the channel, understand?’
Aesake and Samu left Jonasi at the stern and went up to see the engine started. Samu pointed to the beach where the people were now gathering, waiting, watchful.
Aesake shook his head. ‘Their lives are haunted by make-believe monsters. It’s not their fault. Tell me, Samu, how do you make such people open thei
r eyes and see the world as it really is?’
The engine coughed twice, and black smoke trailed across the water. Then it opened to a shuddering roar that settled to a rumble. They were moving very slowly towards the river mouth where the fresh water had made a deep channel in the reef.
One of the Islanders was doing something to the engine. The other stood out on the bow, watching the reef and signalling directions.
The beach became smaller, and the people on it were no more than ants.
Aesake was watching the shore and thinking of his father when Samu grabbed his arm. This time he was pointing to the stern of the launch. Jonasi leaned over the railing, his shirt flapping against his back.
‘What’s he looking at?’ Samu said.
Aesake said, ‘It can’t be. Not that.’
But they both knew it was the white turtle.
As soon as Jonasi sensed their attention, he turned away from the stern and walked aimlessly across the deck, pretending an interest in some coils of rope. Aesake wasn’t fooled. He went to the place where Jonasi had been standing, leaned over the side, and caught sight of the white turtle.
Jonasi rushed back. The Silent One leaped at Aesake, pushing him out of the way. Aesake spun around. He crouched, ready to defend himself. But Jonasi didn’t attack again. Instead, he jumped over the rail. If Aesake hadn’t grabbed his wrist, he’d have gone overboard.
‘Help me!’ Aesake shouted at Samu.
Jonasi kicked and struggled with a man’s strength. He was half over the rail, pushing against Aesake’s grip, trying to get to the water. Samu grabbed his other arm, and he and Aesake pulled Jonasi on to the deck where he thrashed about like a hooked shark.
It took the two of them to pin Jonasi down. He fought as though they were strangers. He was panting with a strange sobbing noise that bubbled in his throat and was almost a sound. Aesake had never before heard a noise from the mouth of the Silent One.
‘We’re not going to harm your turtle,’ Aesake kept saying. ‘We’re not going to do anything.’
‘The others will see it,’ said Samu.
‘Maybe not,’ said Aesake.
‘But it shines like a fire.’
‘They’re too busy watching the reef up front. In a while we’ll reach the channel and deep water. Then they’ll go fast. We’ll leave it behind.’
Jonasi must have understood that Aesake meant the turtle no harm, for he stopped struggling and lay limp on the deck. Samu and Aesake helped him to his feet but didn’t let go of him. One at each arm, they kept him in a firm hold. The Silent One leaned forward to watch the turtle. He didn’t try to break away again, but simply stood there staring at the creature. His throat bubbled, his chest heaved, and he breathed like someone in great pain.
The boat creaked slowly over the calm grey water. Beside it swam the turtle, its shell half out of the water, its head held high. The eyes were dark and all-knowing, and its sharp, bird-like mouth seemed to hold a world of unspoken wisdom. Aesake could see every line of its shell, the pale colours that blended to no colour at all, and beneath it, the flippers turning easily, keeping it always ahead of the launch’s wake.
‘It must be tired by now,’ said Samu. ‘Why doesn’t it lose speed?’
‘Keep your voice down,’ warned Aesake.
He looked over his shoulder and saw the men still occupied up forward, the Redbeard at the wheel, staring ahead. Inside the cabin, Luisa was asleep.
‘Why doesn’t it go away?’ insisted Samu.
‘It will, it will,’ said Aesake.
‘No, it won’t. You’re wrong, Aesake. I always knew you were wrong. That thing is no turtle.’
‘You’re afraid,’ sneered Aesake.
‘Look at him.’ Samu nodded sideways at Jonasi. ‘It’s cast a spell on him. It’s calling him, that’s what it’s doing. He understands its demon language – ’
He could say no more. One of the Islanders had screamed like a knifed pig. Now he stood on the bow, waving his arms in the air and shouting, ‘The white demon! Look!’
At once everyone was moving. Jonasi writhed desperately and fell to the deck, Aesake and Samu on top of him. The Redbeard’s two assistants rushed to the stern, pointing and yelling. Luisa, wakened by the noise, stood shrieking in the cabin doorway.
The engine stopped, and the Englishman came to the stern. ‘What do you think you’re doing – ’ His eyes and mouth opened wide. ‘A white turtle! A snow-white turtle! I don’t believe it!’
‘They told the truth,’ stammered one of his men. ‘There is an evil turtle spirit. Look, look, it follows the boat.’
The Redbeard laughed. ‘That shell must be worth a fortune.’ He turned to his men. ‘Don’t just stand there. You – get up forward, the anchor, quickly! And you – well go on, over you go. What are you waiting for?’
The man backed away, shaking his head. ‘No – no sir, it’s evil.’
‘Rubbish! Do as you’re told and hurry!’
The man took a couple of steps back. ‘That’s not a turtle, sir. That’s a demon. I tell you, we catch that and we all die.’
‘I said – get it!’
‘Not me, sir.’
The Englishman’s face was as red as his beard. He looked about to hit the man, but at that moment the other Islander came back. ‘You! Get that turtle,’ shouted the Englishman.
But this man’s eyes were also full of fear. He shook his head.
Luisa rushed across the deck, trying to reach Jonasi. The Redbeard roughly pushed her back into the cabin and closed the door on her. He said to Aesake, ‘You boy, dive overboard, will you? Turn it on its back until I can get a rope around it.’
‘I can’t,’ said Aesake.
‘Don’t you dare tell me you can’t!’ Then his voice changed and he said coaxingly, ‘Forget their mumbo jumbo. It’s no more a demon than I am.’
‘No,’ said Aesake.
‘You then – ’
And Samu looked away.
The Redbeard pointed at Jonasi. ‘What about him?’
‘It’s his pet,’ said Aesake. ‘He tamed it. That’s why it’s following us.’
‘Pet! Demon! If only I could swim!’ The Redbeard looked as though he were going to cry. Then he opened the cabin door, pushed past Luisa, and went inside, shouting, ‘I’ll get the thing myself!’ He came out again carrying a gun.
‘No!’ yelled Aesake.
But the Redbeard had raised the rifle and was sighting it down the side of the boat.
Aesake flung himself at the man.
It was impossible to hurt or even move such a mountain of flesh, but the Redbeard was surprised enough to hold his fire. He shifted the rifle, swung his left hand and hit Aesake on the head.
Aesake went down on the deck. Light and dark burst against his eyes. His ears were full of thunder. He didn’t see Jonasi dive overboard. As he sat up, shaking his head, he heard Samu’s cry, then a high-pitched wail from Luisa. After that, there was a silence.
The Englishman had lowered his rifle, and a great smile cracked his beard. ‘That’s it, boy!’ he called towards the water. ‘Hold on, hold on. Now quick, turn it over. Boy? I said, turn it over!’
Still giddy from the blow, Aesake stumbled the few steps to the side of the boat and saw Jonasi with the turtle. The Silent One was clinging to its back, gripping its shell with both hands. His head was bent towards the turtle’s and his shirt, almost transparent in the water, billowed around him. The boy was steering the turtle away from the launch.
‘Engine!’ the Redbeard yelled. ‘Move, you idiots! I said, power! It’s getting away on him.’
As the terrified men ran to obey, the Redbeard turned to Samu and Aesake. ‘Get over the side and give him a hand. Quick! Go on.’
Samu ducked and ran to Luisa.
Aesake stood still. ‘He isn’t catching it!’ he shouted at the man. ‘He’s saving it!’
The Redbeard spun round, his face slack with surprise, then he realised what was happening. Jonasi was
making no attempt either to turn the turtle over or to return to the launch. If anything, the white turtle had increased its speed. Now it was too far away for its head to be visible. All that could be seen was Jonasi’s head and shoulders raised high out of the water, and a small fan of ripples behind him.
Not once had the boy looked back.
The engine started. The Redbeard ran to take the wheel. Luisa came out, crying, clinging to Samu.
‘Where’s he going?’ Samu said.
Aesake shook his head and watched the widening gap between the boat and the Silent One.
Then the boy and the turtle dived.
It happened without warning. One moment they were there, in the next they’d disappeared, leaving hardly a ripple behind them.
Once more the engines were cut. The two men on the bow stared down at the water as though their own blood had been spilled in it.
One said, ‘They won’t come up!’
‘Of course he’ll come up!’ said Aesake to Samu, as he searched the sea for some sign, a dark head, a patch of white, a shirt –
‘The demon took him down!’ said the man.
The Redbeard came back to the stern, shading his eyes. ‘He’ll be here somewhere. Maybe in a different spot. Maybe he’ll surface farther back – ’ He wasn’t shouting now. He sounded anxious.
They watched and waited, but there was no trace of the Silent One or the white turtle.
‘He’s been taken to the spirit world at the bottom of the ocean,’ said one of the men.
‘Will you stop that rubbish?’ snapped the Redbeard. ‘Look how shallow it is. One, two – three fathoms at the most. They can’t disappear!’
He was right. The sea was calm and patched with the different colours of coral – green, brown and red, blue in the deeper pools, pale grey in the sandy shallows. The turtle couldn’t have reached the channel, and there was nowhere for it to hide. Its shell was so conspicuous that, even at three fathoms, it would be seen from the surface.
‘You did say the boy could swim,’ said the Redbeard.
‘Better than any of us,’ said Aesake.
Again there was a long quiet of waiting.
The Redbeard turned to Aesake. ‘What did that idiot boy think he was doing, anyway?’ he asked. ‘I didn’t tell him to dive over. He couldn’t hear me if I did. He was up and over the side of his own free will.’