by Hill, David
Another few steps. ‘There are marchers in la Nouvelle-Zélande, too. I have heard.’
Were there? He’d never taken any notice. Then he remembered something his mother had said. ‘We sent a boat. To protest. It tried to go to Mururoa.’
The girl was nodding. ‘The French ships, they stop your boat. They put soldiers on it, and make the people prisoners.’
He didn’t know that, either. So she was an expert on his country, too, was she? Well, he’d tell her about Raoul from her country: see how she felt then. ‘There was this guy—’
But she was talking again. ‘Now there is a new test, on Sunday.’ She gazed across the perfect, blue-green sea. ‘Horrible!’ she went again. Her voice was louder.
Yeah, and we might see some of it if we’re really lucky, Darryl thought, but didn’t say aloud. ‘You’re on the same plane as us, back to Tahiti.’
Alicia shot him a look so sharp, so sudden, that Darryl felt startled. What had he said wrong now? Then she nodded again. ‘Your mother say there is good educating for me in la Nouvelle Zélande. I do not know yet. I must think, after Tahiti.’ She paused, then said, ‘I have not been on a plane. I am nervous.’
‘You’ll be fine. It’s OK.’ After all, Darryl thought as he spoke, I’ve been on three planes now. ‘It’s really easy.’
A couple more stops. I should take off my sandals, Darryl thought: be barefoot, like her.
‘How does it rain in la— the New Zealand?’ the girl asked.
Darryl felt surprised again. ‘Depends where you live. It rains mostly in the winter. Sometimes it rains for the whole day; makes everything cold and wet.’ What am I? he thought. A weather forecast?
Alicia was listening carefully. ‘Here, it rain in the summer. Warm rain. When I am little, we play games in it.’
‘Warm rain? Sounds cool!’ He saw the girl’s puzzled expression. ‘Sorry. Silly joke.’
‘You talk well.’ Darryl stared as she spoke. Was she trying to be smart? ‘When you talk to the school, about the kiwi bird. I understand you clear. If … all people can see the kiwi bird in la New Zealand?’
‘Yeah. Well, sometimes.’ He stopped as Alicia glanced at him again.
‘Lannya like – likes you. She say you her boyfriend.’ Darryl almost heard the clop! as his mouth dropped open; she laughed out loud. Hey, it’s true, he realised: dark-skinned people’s teeth do flash when they laugh.
He realised something else, too. She was teasing him. He was walking and talking with a real girl, and she was teasing him. Amazing.
There was someone else on the beach after all. That old lady again? Not this time. A figure stood about a hundred metres ahead, someone wearing shorts and a blue shirt, with their back to them, watching the sea. The boy from school, was it? Noah: the principal had mentioned how he went fishing. No, it wasn’t him. It—
‘The French, they say bomb tests are safe.’ Oh no, Alicia was back on that again, just when he was almost starting to enjoy talking to her. ‘They tell us the tests are here because we are … what is the word? … loyals to France in the war. Why you hurt people who are loyals to you?’
Hey, I’m just a visitor, Darryl wanted to say. Don’t ask me. Then he remembered Grandad Davis. He’d tell her—
But she was off again. ‘You know what your British do when they explode their bombs?’ My British? Darryl thought. ‘They put bomb under the sea. They have old ships there, many old ships. And they have creatures – animals on the ships. Tied-up pigs and mices and sheeps. They cut hair off some. Then they look afterwards to see how animals burn, how much they hurt and die from bomb. How can people do that?’
She’s talking about that TV programme, Darryl realised. The one he’d seen back home, the night his mother had announced they were coming here. The old warships scattered around; the colossal pillar of steam and fire; the tidal wave smashing down on the vessels. It had to be the same test. But he hadn’t known about the animals. That was sick. She must be making it up. Where did she hear stuff like that?
‘I didn’t—’ he began.
But she was gazing past him. Her expression had changed. ‘Pardon. Excuse me, please. I am— I must go.’
Suits me, Darryl thought. He turned away. He’d had enough of being talked at like the nuclear tests were his fault. Serve her right if she’s scared stiff on the plane when we fly back to Tahiti, he decided as he strode along, kicking small stones out of his way. Principal Kara was right: she’ll be a perfect politician, giving people lectures and telling them what to think.
He reached the path, where it curved up from the beach towards the lodge. As he entered the trees, he glanced back. What incredibly important thing was Prime Minister Alicia doing, anyway, that made her so busy all of a sudden?
Stopping, he looked harder. The girl was walking towards the far end of the beach. The blue-shirted figure standing there had turned, and stood as if waiting for her.
Darryl shaded his eyes and squinted into the lowering sun. Was it? Yes, it was. The same figure he’d glimpsed in the protest march in Tahiti, the one he’d talked to on the flight to Mangareva, just twenty-four hours ago. Raoul.
FOURTEEN
Maybe he’s her boyfriend? Darryl thought as he approached the lodge. He felt sorry for the poor guy. Then he remembered – hey, Raoul’s against the bomb, too. They can have lots of stupid talks about it together.
But as he walked, he couldn’t forget those animals on the ships. Putting them in cages, to be killed or burned, or get radiation sickness: that was— But if it helped scientists learn how to protect people from any nuclear war, didn’t that make it OK? ‘Nuclear weapons are scary, son,’ his father had said. ‘But not having them, with those commie countries ready to invade – that’s scarier.’ Yeah, his dad was right. He—
‘’Allo, Monsieur Dah-reel.’ It was Napoleon. In one hand he held a long, wicked-looking machete; sunlight glinted on its blade. He saw the expression on Darryl’s face, and laughed.
‘Do not feel worry. We use machete for coconuts, not for visitors. Tonight you eat coconut for dinner. We use it for eating, for medicine, for sore teeth. Very useful.’ He smiled again at Darryl. ‘My wife say you are climbed the mountain?’
‘Yeah. Yeah, it was brilliant.’ Darryl hesitated. ‘You were up there when one of the bombs went off?’
Napoleon’s face went grave. ‘Yes. When I see it, the world changes. There is … like lightning, but red. Then a noise comes, like a great tree falling. And a wind, a wind from fire. Some people say there is a wave – not a wave like others: one that comes fast, rushes up the land a little way, then goes.’
He fell silent, gazing out to sea, then to Darryl’s surprise, he chuckled. ‘You can talk to Alicia about the bomb. She says angry things. You talk to her.’
No thanks, thought Darryl. I’ve already had the lecture.
‘Mangareva is lucky,’ Napoleon said. ‘Some islands, all the people have to leave. All the trees are cut down.’ He shook his head. ‘But here is still good to live. You must go to the reef; it is most beautiful. All special people must see.’
I’m a special people – person? Darryl grinned to himself. ‘Thanks. Cool,’ he added. And it will be cool, he decided. Forget about Alicia, and her useless bomb stuff, and Raoul.
Except he couldn’t forget them. Not her, anyway. Because his mother was back from talking to the principal, and, after she’d asked him if he’d been careful on the non-mountain, and if he’d put sunblock on, and after he’d snapped at her for nagging him, and they’d both gone quiet for a bit, she started saying how Principal Kara hoped Alicia would change her mind about coming to New Zealand, and how she – Mrs Davis – was going to talk to Alicia on the flight to Tahiti, and tell her what a perfect choice she would be. Darryl said nothing.
Dinner was early once again. More fish: it felt strange to be eating hardly any red meat, but he didn’t mind.
His mother smiled at Alicia, who was bringing bread to their table. The girl’s eyes wer
e down and she didn’t look at them. ‘Bonjour, Alicia. No – bonsoir. Good evening. Thank you. Merci bien.’ The girl murmured something, but still didn’t look up. Hey, don’t be rude, Darryl thought.
It was the same when she brought the dessert. (Yes, it’s coconut, all right, Darryl noticed. Coconut chopped up into little cubes, mixed with fresh fruit, and served in the coconut shell. Great!) She didn’t look at them; didn’t say anything.
A few minutes later, he glimpsed her through the open doorway to the kitchen. Lily was talking to her, quietly but fast. Alicia … was she? … yes, she was crying. Trouble about her boyfriend maybe?
Yet when he was sliding off to sleep later, half-listening to the soft hiss of waves on the beach, the distant grunt of a pig somewhere, he thought of Alicia again. The way they’d talked on the beach. The way she’d laughed when she teased him. And now she was all miserable. Girls were weird.
The pigs were grunting again. No, not grunting. Squealing. Shrieking with fear. As he spun around to look, the sky split open, and white flame poured out. Darryl flung himself on the ground as the animals exploded in fire. Howling in agony, they rushed past where he grovelled, trying to claw his way into the earth.
His body contorted, and he lurched awake, panting, sweating, staring into the night. The terror of the nightmare, mixed with Alicia’s story of those caged animals on the ships, slowly slid away.
For a moment, he thought he heard the girl’s voice, murmuring somewhere near, and a second voice he half-recognised replying. They stopped, almost as though they had heard him move in his bed. Darryl lay listening. Nothing. His imagination. He turned over and got comfortable. This time, there were no bad dreams.
‘May I walk with you?’ Lily asked at breakfast. ‘When you talk to our church group?’
Mrs Davis smiled. ‘That would be lovely.’
The other woman picked up their plates, then paused. ‘I ask your help? Alicia, she studies English. Have you any English books she can read? While you are here?’
Darryl’s mum pulled a face. ‘I’m afraid not – just work stuff.’ She turned to Darryl. ‘How about that library book of yours, Da?’
Oh no, Darryl went to himself, thinking of Deadly Cloud. She’ll be even more boring if she reads that. But he shrugged. ‘OK.’
He waited outside, under the trees, while his mother did her hair and checked her notes. Twenty metres away, the blue and green Pacific crept up the beach in tiny ripples. He tried to imagine the wave Napoleon had described, as it slid into the trees; remembered the gigantic one on television. They had to see something when they flew back to Tahiti.
A movement outside one of the buildings. His mother – no, Alicia, coming to borrow his library book.
But the girl was moving away, into the trees. She hadn’t seen Darryl. Her head was down, like before. She looked tired, like she hadn’t slept. As she went, he saw her slipping something into a brown cloth bag. Next minute, she’d disappeared among the tall brown and grey trunks.
She’s hiding something, Darryl thought. A present from her boyfriend – if that’s what Raoul is. He waited a few seconds, but the girl didn’t reappear.
Darryl and his mother and Lily set off up the path, past more houses with white-washed walls, between more tall palms and big-leafed trees. Insects murmured; seabirds called above. ‘We are glad you will fly with Alicia when you leave,’ Lily said. ‘She is strong girl, but so sad for her father. Your man, your husband, he is in la Nouvelle-Zélande?’
Mrs Davis glanced at her son, then lowered her voice as she replied. Darryl pretended not to hear, gazed at the trees as they moved on.
More people were on the path. Women, quite a few men, children. All smiled and said hello. Around a corner, and the tall white building with its towers edged in red and blue was in front of them, a cross shining against the sky. Wide steps led up to a front porch, with a big curved doorway behind. More people stood outside, talking and laughing.
‘Dah-reel! Dah-reel!’ Oh, man, it was that little kid again. Lannya. He gave her a small wave. She gave him a huge wave; next minute she was gabbling away to about six other little kids, pointing to her hair, then to him.
Two men stood by the doorway, smiling at them as they approached. Principal Kara and a man in priest’s clothes. ‘Bonjour, Madame et Monsieur Day-vees,’ went the principal. ‘I introduce to you Father Pierre.’
The other man smiled widely and shook their hands. ‘Pardon, I have not best English. Welcome, welcome.’
Wow! thought Darryl as they all moved inside. A high, curved plaster ceiling of white-blue stretched away towards the far end of the church. Tall pillars of orange-painted wood stood on either side. The priest led them down the aisle towards the front pews, and the altar.
What an altar! A cross in the middle. Glowing flowers and crowns on either side, made out of shells, and – it couldn’t be – yes, pearls. Creamy white pearls that shone in the sunlight pouring through high windows. Darryl sat and stared while the speeches murmured around him.
The congregation burst into song, jerking Darryl back to what was happening. It was an amazing song, proud and powerful. Men’s and women’s voices, and kids piping among them.
The meeting ended, and Lannya and another small girl trotted forward with necklaces of cream, ivory and golden shells. Darryl braced himself for the sticky kiss on both cheeks. Instead, he got two sticky kisses on both cheeks, one from each little kid. More clapping.
They came out into the dazzling sunshine. People surrounded Mrs Davis, smiling and shaking her hand. Many of them shook Darryl’s as well, while he mumbled ‘Yeah, mercy, yeah’. Then he realised both of his hands were being held. When he glanced down, there was Lannya and her friend, little brown fingers slipped into his. At first he felt relieved that his friends couldn’t see him, then he realised he didn’t really care all that much. In fact, he felt good.
Back at the lodge, Lily went off to prepare lunch. His mother went off to change. Darryl put on shorts, looked down at his fairly brown (at last!) legs, shook his head, and wandered outside, across the few metres to the beach.
Alicia was standing there, gazing out towards the horizon. Darryl began to turn away, but as he was still feeling so good he called out ‘Hi’.
The girl whirled around. Her long black hair swung sideways, and her eyes stared. The tiny scar above her eyebrow stood out white. She looked so frightened that Darryl stumbled half a step backwards in alarm.
Alicia began to reach a hand towards him, but snatched it back and gasped ‘Non!’ Then she seemed to recognise who he was. She dragged in a deep breath; Darryl could see her struggling to get control of herself.
‘Pardon,’ she said at last. ‘I am— pardon, I am learning the words. The English.’
No, she wasn’t. She was lying. Frightened and lying. Darryl’s brain seemed to have gone on strike: he couldn’t think what to say. The girl opened her mouth again, then closed it and looked away.
‘Have you been reading the book?’ Darryl heard himself say. Hell, what a feeble thing to ask!
‘I – oui – yes, the book … What— what is “domesteek”?’
Darryl blinked, than realised. ‘“Domestic”. It means homes and houses and stuff. Why?’
Her voice was firmer now. She was trying hard to sound normal. ‘The book tells if a little nuclear bomb explode, domesteek buildings eight kilometres away will destroy – be destroy. Eight kilometres is almost our whole island.’ She paused. ‘What is “char-red”? It say people’s skin is char-red.’
He remembered this one; he’d read the same pages. ‘Burned. It means sort of burned black. Like meat.’ Aw, yuk! he heard his mind go.
Alicia was silent. Her eyes flicked to the sea, to the waves along the beach, as though she was expecting something to happen. Darryl stood uncertainly. Was she all right? She—
Then she spoke. Quietly, as if to herself. She didn’t look at him. Words in French, then, still quietly: ‘Someone must stop.’
Darryl watched. Lily had mentioned something about Alicia saying this. ‘You—’
Then his mother’s voice came: ‘Darryl? Lunch!’
The girl didn’t seem to hear. She was gazing at the sea again, the gentle stretch of green and blue, with small clouds still sailing along the horizon. Then she said it again: ‘Someone must stop.’
FIFTEEN
What’s she on about now? Darryl wondered, as he and his mum ate lunch. The shutters were open, the dining room filled with quiet light. Is she planning a protest march here on Mangareva? Is that why she was talking to that Raoul guy? How come she knows him, anyway?
More likely she was just behaving like that to feel important. Anyway, he grinned to himself, it would be hard to have a protest march in a place where you’ve got hardly any roads.
As they left the dining room, Napoleon called after them. ‘Madame Day-vees! Monsieur Dah-reel! You like to visit the reef? Very beautiful; very many fish.’
Great, Darryl thought; he’d been hoping Napoleon would take them there. His mother nodded. ‘Merci bien. Thank you. I’ll come for a while, then I need to start writing my report. You want to go, don’t you, son?’ Darryl nodded. Too right he did.
Napoleon looked pleased. ‘You meet Alicia here … Oh, one hour.’
Alicia! Aw, no. ‘I help friend with his pearl farm, so I am busy,’ Napoleon went on. He held something out to Darryl. ‘You book is here. Alicia say to thank you.’
Mum can talk to her, Darryl decided, as he took Deadly Cloud. I’ll keep clear.
‘There is a visitor for dinner,’ Napoleon was saying now. ‘I must catch more fish after I help my friend. Au revoir.’ He moved off. A visitor, thought Darryl. Someone from the church, probably. Mum can talk to them, too.
Darryl sat in the shade of a tall shrub with red flowers while he waited for his mother and Alicia.
‘Dah-reel?’ He jerked as the girl spoke. She was wearing a blue and red dress with no sleeves. She smiled, and her teeth did that flashing thing again. ‘You will visit the reef?’